November 21st, 2004 – Fuyuki Memorial Park

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting long shadows that somehow managed to make Fuyuki Park look even more creepy than it had before. With his back to the monument and Saber at his side, Shirou Emiya looked upon the child who had introduced herself as Illyasviel von Einzbern, and the Servant who stood with her.

With a flicker of will, he poured prana into his eyes, and looked at the other Servant/Master pair. The third Artoria – her appearance and power proclaimed her identity – shone with a power that was kin to that of Saber and Rider, if unmistakably different. But it was Illyasviel von Einzbern that captured Shirou's attention.

The young girl, who was older than she appeared – older than him, unless he missed his guess – wasn't entirely human. There was something artificial to the way her insides were arranged, but it was the sheer number and potency of her Magical Circuits that betrayed her origins. The Einzbern were famous for their unmatched mastery of homunculi creation, something that had never stopped making Shirou feel uncomfortable at the idea of hundreds of living, thinking beings created and used as slaves. But Illyasviel hadn't been created : she was partly human, he could see as much. A hybrid, then, born of the union between a homunculus and a Magus.

She was also dying. That much was immediately obvious to Shirou's sight, though even after months of Rin's teaching, Shirou didn't have the words to properly explain what had been done to Illyasviel. It reminded him of what Zouken had done to Sakura in some ways. The similarities were definitely here, with a connection established between the girl and a greater thaumaturgic construct, but the malevolent corruption that had festered inside his lover was absent in Illyasviel. Her fate was still grim, however. There was too much power contained within her small body : it was burning her from the inside, slowly eroding her very self.

Time seemed to slow to Shirou as he considered the situation before him. Clearly there was more going on here than the Master for the Einzbern in the Fifth Grail War taking the chance to attack him while he was in a relatively isolated location, with only his Servant for company.

Fact one : the girl in front of him was called Illyasviel von Einzbern. She was a Master and connected to the Grail in a way that was swiftly killing her. She was also a homunculus-human hybrid.

Fact two : his father had fought in the Fourth Grail War as the Master for the Einzbern family.

Fact three : when he had faced Zouken, the old worm had mentioned 'the Einzbern girl' – his exact words had been 'I can tell you about the Einzbern, and the girl he left behind' – as if he had expected Shirou to recognize who he was referring to. Shirou hadn't, it had been the first time he had heard the name, but the fact that Zouken had thought he would know it reinforced the connection to Kiritsugu.

Fact four : judging by the fury he saw in her eyes even as the rest of her face kept to the aspect of a smiling angel, the girl held a deep-seated resentment against him, despite them having never met, and him not remembering ever doing anything to earn the Einzbern's enmity (apart from asking Rin to investigate them, but while someone paranoid could have interpreted that as hostile intent, it wasn't enough to explain the intensity of the girl's emotions).

Fact five : Saber had reacted to the girl's appearance before she had introduced herself. His Servant knew her, despite only remembering her time in the Fourth War – a War that had occurred ten years ago, and despite Illyasviel barely looking that old, Shirou's sight told him that she would have been around eight years old at the time.

Fact six : before his death, his father had made several trips to Germany, trips that lasted weeks and always ended up with him coming back looking very sad and in poor health.

Fact seven : the girl had called him 'Onii-san', a term that could mean 'Mister' as well as 'Brother'.

Conclusion …

Oh.

Oh.

Understanding dawned, and so great was the shock of it that the words left Shirou's mouth before he could stop them :

"You are Dad's daughter, aren't you ?"

Today had been the first day Illya had ever been free in her entire life.

The plane the Einzbern had charted for her trip to Japan had landed a few hours before dawn, and Lancer had driven the limo that had waited for the four of them (Illya, Lancer, and the two homunculus maids accompanying them) across the island and to Fuyuki. Leaving the maids behind to prepare the castle for her stay there, Illya had gone to see Fuyuki, partly to get the lay of the land where the Grail War would be fought, but mostly because the idea of staying inside a castle when she could choose not to was abhorrent to her.

She had left the castle after convincing her maids that she would be safe, not that they could have stopped her anyway. Lancer had accompanied Illya across town in manifested form, adjusting her longer stride to Illya's pace. Even in the modern clothes the Einzbern had provided for her, the Servant had drawn attention, of course. A foreign woman of her beauty couldn't help but be noticed in such a dreary little town.

Not that Illya had ever been in a city before. But her grandfather had assured her that Fuyuki City was an insignificant town in the Far East, worth noting only because of the Heaven's Feel that took place there.

Still, preserving the secrecy of Magecraft was required even there, so Illya had used a few spells to ensure that even those who were struck by her Servant's beauty didn't think of recording it or mentioning it later. It was a minor suggestion, one helped by the subtle wards woven in Lancer's clothes, but it would be enough, so long as they didn't engage in outrageous activities in public sight.

She could have guarded Illya just as well in Spirit Form, of course. But Illya's prana reserves were so huge that the additional drain hardly mattered, and the half-homunculus liked Lancer's presence. She found it … reassuring. And even if she hadn't voiced it, she was pretty sure Lancer had understood that after she had spent half the flight from Germany sleeping with her head in King Arthur's lap.

She had intended to spend the day visiting, then go to the local church in order to introduce herself to the Overseer of the Grail War. Even though she had little interest in the Heaven's Feel beyond the chance at revenge it offered her, the rules of the Grail War had to be observed. Then, once she had gotten the lay of the land and gotten the formalities out of the way, she would begin her hunt for her brother.

At least that had been her plan, and Lancer had approved of it, even if her Servant was … leery of her objective. Artoria hadn't said so out loud, but Illya could feel her discomfort with her desire for vengeance through their bond. Given the history of the Round Table and the circumstances of Lancer's own death, Illya could understand her wariness for even adopted siblings fighting to the death. It hadn't dissuaded her, of course. Vengeance against Shirou Emiya was pretty much the only thing she had left to dedicate her remaining lifespan to.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, she had found her steps taking her toward the place where it had all gone wrong – where that man had destroyed the Grail born of her mother's sacrifice. Illya hadn't known why she was going there, except perhaps for a morbid desire to remind herself of just why Shirou Emiya had to die.

She had not expected to find him here, with a Servant at his side. Killing him before introducing herself to the Overseer wasn't technically against the rules of the Grail War – and even if it had been, she hardly cared. Besides, she wasn't going to kill him now. His sins were much too great for him to atone for them so easily.

Then he spoke words that were at once a confession of his guilt, and yet one more crime against her to add to the list, for Shirou Emiya had no right to call that man 'Dad'.

"Yes, Onii-san," she replied sweetly, keeping her boiling anger from showing on her face. "I am the girl Kiritsugu abandoned before adopting you as a replacement. Did he tell you about me ?"

"No, he didn't," he told her, unfazed. "Until just now, I hadn't any idea Dad had another child. I only just … put the pieces together."

Illya hesitated. Was he lying ? If he was, it wouldn't help him escape her wrath. She had considered the possibility that he might not know about her existence long ago, and come to the conclusion that ignorance of his sins didn't excuse them. He was still the child Kiritsugu had raised after abandoning her. He was the one Kiritsugu had deemed worthy of his attention, of being raised into the successor of the Magus Killer. He was the one who had plotted and schemed against the three Families, pursuing a goal she didn't yet know.

He was the one who had replaced her, the one who was … looking at her in silence, with glowing golden eyes and a strange expression on his face. He was … angry ? But not at her. Illya was intimately, bitterly familiar with what someone angry at her looked like, felt like, and this wasn't it.

So far, this confrontation wasn't going the way she had thought it would – and she had imagined facing her brother many, many times. It had been one of the few things that had granted her the strength to endure her 'training'. She had imagined fear, anger, contempt, or even the cold, emotionless stare of the killer Kiritsugu had been according to her Grandfather (though never when he was with her, a small, weak and treacherous part of her whispered that she forcefully ignored with practiced ease).

"Who did this to you ?" Her brother asked instead, and while his tone was soft there was steel beneath the words.

Illya blinked. "What do you mean ?" she replied warily.

"You are dying", he told her bluntly, and she hid a wince. "Your body is falling apart on the cellular level, burning from the inside under the strain of far too much power. You have months left to live, at best. And it was deliberate, not a result of your origins."

He knew what she was. How ? His eyes, she realized. Those must be what had let him learn that. He had to have some sort of perception-related Mystic Eyes, and judging by the level of insight he was displaying, they must be quite high-graded too.

Part of her felt repelled by the idea that he could pierce her body's secrets, the secrets of the Einzbern family, with only a glance. Another part of her, bitter and spiteful, wanted him see, to know all that had been done to her, to realize the depths of his crimes against her.

After all, it was her to duty to inform him, wasn't it ? The judge must tell the condemned why they are being punished. Yes, that made sense. There was no other reason to share that truth with him.

"It was the Einzbern who did this to me, condemning me to an early death so that I could win for them the Grail that Kiritsugu threw away," she told him, and the lightness of her tone against the bleakness of her words made them even more biting. "Why do you ask ?"

"So I know who to punish for it," he answered without pause or hesitation. "The Einzbern, huh ? … I see. So that's why Dad never told me about you. He didn't want me to get killed trying to rescue you."

… What ?

What had he just said !?

"Rescue me ? Rescue me ?! Don't you dare pretend to care about me !" she screamed, emotions suddenly pouring out of her barely-held control. "You are Kiritsugu's heir. The one he chose over me ! The one he stayed with after abandoning me !"

"I don't think he abandoned you. I don't know for certain," he admitted, "but Dad made several trips to Europe in the years before his death, even though his health got worse every time. And by the look on his face when he came back, he didn't get what he wanted each and every time, but he kept trying until his condition got so bad he wouldn't have survived the trip. I think … he was trying to get you away from the Einzbern, but kept failing." At his side, his hands tightened into fists. "And the fact that he survived the failures makes me think the Einzbern let him escape alive, just to hurt him more."

"You're lying. You're lying !" Illya was ranting now, but she couldn't stop. "He never came for me. He abandoned me ! Just like he abandoned Mom ! He killed her and he threw her away, and he left me all alone in that cold castle while he took in another child to replace me !"

He was lying. He had to be. He had to ! Otherwise …

The first crack appeared on the armor of frost that coated the young girl's heart, noticed only by the tall woman at her side, through the bond they shared.

"Illyasviel," urged Lancer, laying one hand on her shoulder in warning while keeping her gaze on the opposition. "Calm yourself."

She startled at the touch, and forced herself to take deep breaths. She couldn't lose her temper, she reminded herself. That would be a mistake, one that could lead to her death when faced with an enemy Servant, and she couldn't die, not yet.

"Don't take me for a fool, Shirou Emiya" she said, forcing her voice to be as cold as the snow she so hated. "I know you have been studying my family. Looking to finish what you started with the Matou, are you ? You will find me a stronger opponent than Zouken Matou, and less easy to deceive than the Tohsaka Head."

"I never lied to Rin, and I didn't kill Zouken to destroy the Matou," he replied. "I killed him because he was a monster who needed to die in order to rescue my friend. And I only researched the Einzbern because of his last words. I think he knew about you, and tried to bargain with that knowledge." She saw his fists tighten at his side, and his face became pained. "Looking at you now, I wish I had strung him along for more information before I ended him."

"Please, Illyasviel," he went on. "We don't have to fight. I am not your enemy, and there is more to the Grail War than you know. Dad had a good reason for what he did during the Fourth -"

"A 'good reason' ?" Illya repeated softly, and Shirou stopped talking at once. "A 'good reason' for sacrificing my mother !? A 'good reason' to spit on her death !? A 'good reason' to destroy the Grail !?"

"Yes," said the pale-faced, yellow-eyed Servant at her brother's side. She was almost identical to the Saber Kiritsugu had summoned during the Fourth Grail War, though the colors of her hair, skin and eyes were different. "I was there at the end of the War, Illyasviel. It was my hands that destroyed the Grail, though it was Kiritsugu's Command Seals that gave me the strength to do it. And I tell you this, on my honor : your father chose to destroy the Grail because it would have drowned this city in madness and ruin otherwise."

A lie, that, and a poor one. Servants couldn't remember what had happened during their previous summonings, it was one of the safeguards the three Founding Families had implemented in the Greater Grail. And if the Grail was faulty, then her family, with its connections to the Greater Grail system reaching all the way from Germany – the same connections that had let them know in advance that this War would occur decades early – would have found out for sure.

She turned her gaze back to Shirou with a sneer painted on her face, to see if he truly thought she would be taken in by such an obvious ploy, and let slip his real intent once it was clear it hadn't worked.

"It's true," he said instead. "The Grail is corrupted, though we don't know how yet. Dad suspected it might destroy the entire World if left unchecked, and so he made the only choice he could, even if it meant he had to turn his back on his dream, even if he thought it would kill him."

There was no anger in his eyes, no fear or hate or disappointment at the failure of his attempt to deceive her. Only frustration that she wouldn't listen, and something that she didn't consciously recognize, something that felt like a dagger to her guts.

A part of Illya did recognize it, the part of her that the Einzbern had done everything in their power to bury. She had seen that expression before, in the eyes of her parents, and more recently in those of her Servant, though she hadn't recognized it then either.

It was worry. It was care. For all that he had never met her before, Shirou Emiya cared for his long-lost, newly-discovered adopted sister.

But Illya had spent too long in the hands of a family that saw her as a tool at best and despised her as a reminder of their failure at worst. Her softer emotions had been frozen, a result of both her survival instincts and the desires of her tormentors. She had armored herself with contempt and spite, sharpening her hatred of those who had wronged her, sharpening that blade with every injury, every insult thrown her way.

But her brother stood in front of her and his face looked so earnest and there was actual sorrow in his eyes as he looked at her and …

She didn't understand, and she hated it, hated it, HATED IT !

"Illyasviel," Shirou pressed on, "please listen to me. You must realize that there is something wrong with the Grail. Your Servant and mine are both versions of King Arthur – look at them, surely you can see the resemblance ? And this place," he gestured to the park around them, "even now the curse of the Grail lingers here, the same curse that crippled Dad, that kept him from rescuing you and eventually killed him. It's growing stronger, too, as the Greater Grail gathers power into itself."

Resemblance ? She supposed so. Shirou's Servant was like the Saber Kiritsugu had summoned in the last Grail War, and that Saber had been King Arthur – the same King who she had summoned as a Lancer. Obviously the similarities were here, though her Servant was taller and more mature – a woman at the peak of her beauty rather than a girl frozen in perpetual adolescence by the gifts of the Fae.

And the curse … she could feel it, certainly. The entire park was suffused with it, to the point that she wondered why the Second Owner hadn't done anything about it. Even mundane people would be able to tell there was something wrong with the place.

For a moment, all was silent, before Lancer said to Illya : "There might be worth in listening to them, Master. There is more going than what we were told at the castle. If you aren't satisfied with what they have to say, then we can proceed with the War afterwards."

Listening ? What was there to listen to ? It was ten years too late for the words that might have fixed this, and the boy in front of her wasn't the Emiya she wanted to hear them from. All she had wanted to hear from him were screams and supplications.

She hated him, she told herself. She wanted him to suffer, to feel every bit of the pain she had gone through before she let him die. He owed her this, for the crime of existing, for stealing her father from her. Only when he laid before her, broken and begging, would she be satisfied. Only then would the hollowness inside her be filled. Only then would she be able to die fulfilling her purpose for the Einzbern family without regrets.

… Wouldn't she ?

"Please," Shirou asked. "Listen to your Servant. Let me tell you what we have found out. Both Sakura Matou and Rin Tohsaka believe as I do, Illyasviel. This War is a trap, and by fighting it we risk repeating the tragedy of ten years ago. But we can prevent it."

It's too late for that, she thought. She was doomed to suffer her mother's fate. That particular bit of the tale was already written in stone. But she wouldn't be tossed away again, like the two of them had been. She wouldn't she wouldn't she wouldn't -

Her brother's hands tightened into fists, and when he spoke again, the steel in his voice was no longer hidden beneath the surface :

"I can't let that happen again, Illyasviel. I won't. You said Dad killed your mother ? Looking at you, I can guess how that happened, and I know that it broke his heart. I promise you, I won't let that happen to you. What has been done to you can be undone, even if it won't be easy." A weak smile briefly flickered on his face. "You might say that I have a habit of doing the impossible."

He reached out toward Illya, palm held up.

"Please, Nee-san," and this time he wasn't asking : he was begging. "Let me save you."

If Illya had been reasonable, she would have been able to think clearly about what Shirou was saying. She would have seen that she had been lied to, that her father hadn't abandoned her, that his only fault had been to fail in rescuing her from the Einzbern Castle. After all, what reason did she have to trust the words of a family that had given her only contempt and pain ?

She might not have believed in his promise of salvation, even then, for the certainty of her death was deeply ingrained, and separate from the lies the Einzbern had woven around her. But she would have accepted Shirou's and Saber's sincerity regarding the Grail's status, and sought more information before making a decision.

But the truth was, despite the calm facade she had learned to project at all times, despite the iron-clad discipline that had been instilled into her one agonizing 'lesson' at a time, Illya's mind wasn't that strong. She had never had a chance to grow up before both her parents had been taken from her, leaving her in the hands of a cold-hearted old man who only saw her as a tool to fulfill his family's ambition.

For ten years, she had suffered physical and psychological torture, all aimed at making her the weapon that would deliver the Einzbern victory in the Heaven's Feel. She had been surrounded by sneering Magi who despised her and homunculi that ignored her, told that one of the two only people to ever love her had betrayed and abandoned her.

The most affection she had ever received in the last decade had come from Lancer. The Servant, at least, was on her side. It had been Lancer who had convinced Acht to let Illya leave Germany for Japan earlier than had been planned, arguing that more time to scout the area before the Grail War would be more tactically valuable than any advantage gained by last-minute 'training'. And while Lancer hadn't been lying, since Acht would have seen through it easily, Illya knew that the real reason had been that her Servant didn't want her to suffer anymore.

She loved Lancer for that, but the Servant's affection and loyalty weren't enough to repair the cracks in her mind. How could they be ? Her psyche was a jumbled mess of anger, grief and the simple, childish desire to be loved, shaped by Jubstacheit von Einzbern's careful ministrations.

She had been hurt, again and again, never able to fight back. Until Sella and Leysritt had been created, she had no allies, and her Magecraft was far too weak to defy the will of her Head of House.

Now Shirou's and Saber's words were challenging her perception of the cruel reality she inhabited. Her brother's kindness and offer were shaking the foundations of the fragile edifice of her sanity, and she didn't know what to believe anymore. Old wounds that had never truly healed had been torn open, and oh but how it hurt to feel again.

But for the first time in her life, she had the means to lash out at the source of her emotional turmoil.

"No," she whispered softly, eyes cast down.

"Illyasviel ?" asked Shirou.

"I don't believe you. You are lying, just like Kiritsugu lied. You're trying to deceive me so that you can use me and throw me away, just like he did with Mom."

"Illyasviel -"

"LANCER!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, loud enough to drown out his voice with the sound of her fury. "KILL HIM !"

Illya only realized that she had used a Command Seal when she felt the burning sensation across her body as the second of her unstoppable orders was spent. She wasn't too lost to grief and pain to know that this was a singularly poor use of a finite resource – a waste, plain and simple. She simply didn't care.

Lancer briefly struggled, before the command overwhelmed her and she leapt forward, drawing her rapier in one fluid motion and aiming it at Shirou's throat.

There was a flash of black light, and the sound of metal scraping against metal as the other Servant summoned a sword that burned with black flames and blocked the attack. The same flames engulfed Saber, fading away to reveal the Servant of the Sword covered by a heavy suit of black plate armor.

Shirou hadn't flinched, Illya noticed. He was still looking at her with that same look of understanding and grief on his face.

And like that, the first battle of the Fifth Holy Grail War began.

Illya had been trained to be able to follow the high-speed fight between Servants.

She wasn't a Magus, not really, for all the Mysteries she knew and the potency of her Magical Circuits. She was a tool, a weapon shaped and honed to win the Holy Grail War for the Einzbern. Every aspect of her training had been aimed in that direction. She had been taught fighting Mysteries, usually disdained by the older Magi bloodlines, and through the use specially designed homunculi, her battle perceptions had been sharpened. She had been made to watch beings that looked so much like her fight and die, moving at speeds that tore their flesh apart, before being told to describe the exchanges of blow in detail.

Every mistake had been punished with pain, to increase her tolerance along with her perception. Like so many things in the Einzbern Castle, it had been unnecessarily cruel, while hiding under the pretence of efficiency. But thanks to that training, she could follow the duel between Lancer and Saber, even though the Servants moved far beyond the speed of even the fastest modern-born human.

And it was a breathtaking sight.

With Lancer's first blow parried, her Servant leapt over Shirou and Saber, gracefully flying and landing on her feet twenty meters away. She kicked the ground, sending bits of earth flying at the impact, and launched herself toward her prey's exposed back.

It wasn't a manoeuvre Lancer would have used normally, since by placing their enemies between them it left Illya exposed. But the compulsion of the Command Seal was overriding the King of Knights' tactical acumen, forcing her to focus her every effort on the elimination of her brother.

Again, Saber was there, blocking the attack with her black blade. Merely seeing the weapon was making Illya feel uneasy. While her senses were not as unnaturally sharp as those Shirou had displayed, the half-homunculus still had enhanced mystical perceptions. She could feel what could only be described as raw, primal evil emanating from the sword. If nothing else, it confirmed that Saber had been lying when she had spun that ridiculous tale of having been Kiritsugu's Servant : how could anyone be foolish enough to think this was the legendary King Arthur's Excalibur ?

The entire exchange, from the moment Illya had given her order to the second parried blow, had lasted less than three heartbeats. Only now was Shirou turning to look at the Servant that had come so close to ending his life. As Lancer and Saber stared at each other, looking for the slightest hint of weakness in the other's guard, Illya's mind raced, piecing together what she had just witnessed.

Lancer was faster than Saber, she was certain of that. Her Servant's Agility stat was ranked A, and with that heavy armor Saber couldn't match her. But each time, the black-clad Servant had started to move before Lancer, somehow knowing what her Servant would do before she started doing it, and that had been enough.

A single heartbeat, and then Lancer went back on the offensive. Rhongomyniad shifted in her hands, going from a rapier to a riding lance, and she charged, still compelled to target Shirou above the actual threat she faced.

Every blow from Rhongomyniad was met by that black blade, or turned aside by a plate for armor. Not that the battle was going entirely Saber's way : while she managed to block all of Lancer's attacks, she had yet to land a single blow of her own in response. Lancer was just too fast.

Of course, speed was a relative thing. Saber was slower than Lancer, but even weighed down by her black armor the Servant of the Sword moved almost too fast for the human eye to see. The two Servants moved around their Masters as they clashed, Lancer trying to get an angle of attack on Shirou while Saber sought to deny her. Deep gouges were carved into the earth by the impact of missed blows or just the air pressure released by the Servants' onslaught.

If Lancer had been free to fight as she willed, then the half-homunculus believed that the fight would be going very differently, but as it was, Saber could … bait, for lack of a better word, her opponent into making certain moves, and though it was a dangerous tactic to use – she was essentially gambling her Master's life with every such trick she attempted – it was enough to keep Lancer at bay.

The duel rested on a knife's edge, with the speed and skill of Lancer matched against Saber's instincts. Neither of them were using their Noble Phantasms yet, keeping their trump cards in reserve. The fight would be decided by the first mistake one of the Servants made, of that Illya was certain.

Illya spared a glance for her brother, and found him watching the fight with eyes blazing darkly gold. Like her, his senses could follow the exchange of blows.

Her earlier fury had gone cold, forced so by training the moment this had become a battle of the Grail War, but it hadn't disappeared. She could attack him directly; summon her familiars, woven from the thread of her own hair, and attack him while he was distracted. This was what battles in the Grail War were supposed to be : Servants fighting Servants, Masters fighting Masters.

Then Shirou Emiya's presence shifted, and all thoughts of attacking him herself faded. The radiance of his eyes darkened, and black lines ran across his skin, while great wings made of shadow stretched from his back. In his hands was a sword he had pulled out from nothingness, taller than Illya was and likely weighing much, much more than she did.

"Enough," he said, in a deep voice that echoed in the open park. He marched, leaving burned footprints in the sickly grass, and before Illya's wide eyes, he joined his Servant in battle. There was a moment, come and gone so quickly Illya barely caught it, where Saber hesitated, frozen by her Master's seemingly suicidal decision, before she fell in at his side, the two of them moving in near-perfect unison.

He batted aside a blow from Rhongomyniad that would have carved his torso open, creating an opening for Saber to strike at Lancer's left flank. Illya's Servant dodged the attack, but was forced to give ground in order to disengage and bring her weapon back up to bear.

Now faced with two opponents, Lancer shifted her weapon again, turning Rhongomyniad into a great scythe of white and gold, whose blade sang as it cut the air. Lancer leapt, twirling in mid-air before striking at her prey.

Scythe met sword, and the shockwave stripped the closest trees of their remaining leaves and forced Illya a step back while sending her hat flying. She blinked to clear her sight from the blast, and her eyes widened.

Shirou was still standing, holding Lancer at bay, pitting his strength against her Servant's B-ranked stat. It took Illya a second to realize what it was that was even more disturbing – more so than the fact a mortal had matched the might of a Servant – about this scene : despite the strength of the impact from above, his feet hadn't dug into the earth.

"Rhongomyniad," said Shirou, and Illya shivered as she heard the name of Lancer's Noble Phantasm spoken in that unnaturally echoing voice of his. "There is power in that weapon that could kill me, should it be unleashed. But this battle isn't fought for the World, is it, Lancer ?"

Before Lancer could answer, Saber struck at her from below, forcing Illya's Servant to roll out of the way, releasing Rhongomyniad from Shirou's sword with a twist. She immediately went back on the offensive, but Shirou blocked her attack again – and again, and again, and again …

It was impossible for a human to match a Servant, but Shirou didn't look human right now. Illya was no swordswoman, but the simple fact that Shirou was still alive after a few seconds spoke to an incredible level of skill with that oversized sword. Simple strength and speed wouldn't have been enough against a Heroic Spirit, yet he was holding his ground, weathering Lancer's onslaught without a trace of fear on his infuriatingly calm face.

He was not striking back, she noted, though he had several occasions to do so. None that Lancer couldn't have evaded, of course, but they would have helped turn the flow of the duel back in his favor at least. Instead, he was purely focused on the defensive, keeping himself and his Servant safe.

With a sickening feeling, Illya realized that she couldn't win this fight. She wouldn't lose, because Lancer was the most powerful Servant to ever be summoned and she was the strongest Master to ever take part in the Grail War, but she couldn't win either.

Impossible.

Impossible !

... Was this it ? Was this why her father had abandoned her ? Because whatever inhuman bloodline Shirou was descended from, whatever transformation he had gone through, made him better suited for the Magus Killer's posthumous schemes ?

She -

"Now, Archer."

- saw a pink light at the edge of her sight, rushing toward her. It was, she realized with the kind of clarity that came far too late to do anything about it, aimed directly at her head. With her mind in the self-hypnotic trance required to follow the Servants' fight, she had time to consider that she was going to die right now, before she had any chance to get her revenge on her brother.

No. Not yet -

- then the shadow-wrought wings of Shirou Emiya beat once, and suddenly he stood between Illya and the attack, back turned to her. And he was tall, taller than she had realized when they had been talking. She barely reached the upper half of his chest.

There was a pause, less than a single breath, and then her brother shook. A pink arrowhead burst from his chest, stopped with its point aimed right between Illya's eyes.

He didn't fall, she thought, not knowing where the thought was coming from. Even with his chest transfixed, he didn't fall. He stayed standing in front of Illya, guarding her with his own body even as his huge sword slipped from his fingers and smashed apart into motes of light.

The crack that had formed in her frozen heart spread, and the battered armor of contempt, that mask that was also a shield, fell apart. Through her bond to Lancer, she felt the weight of the order she had given fade, its absolute imperative vanishing like mist.

Blood splattered on Illya's face, and she tasted copper and power on her tongue. For a moment, she saw a fire that wasn't there, heard the roar of the inferno, felt a keening, all-consuming sense of loss -

In the time it took her to blink the vision away, along with the red fluid that had gotten into her eyes, Saber and Lancer were there. Two Servants that had been fighting a moment ago acted as one, Saber supporting Shirou with one arm around his shoulders, while Lancer stood guard over the three of them. Her Servant's suit was gone, replaced in a flash of light by the armor she had worn when first summoned onto the world. In her hands, Rhongomyniad had shifted to the form of a great scythe she held before her, ready to knock out any new attacks.

None came. Illya looked in the direction the attack had come from – nothing. Not even a group of trees that the attackers could have used as cover, only the same patches of dead grass all the way to the edge of the Park. She thought back to the angle of the arrow : it had come from ground level, aimed at her head in a straight line parallel to the ground.

"Well, well, well," said a male voice dripping with dark amusement that echoed across the Park, coming from all around them, carried over the air by Magecraft. "That was … unexpected. Not the intended target, but … that will do. That will do very well indeed."

"Coward !" shouted Lancer, her gaze darting around while she held Rhongomyniad in a defensive stance. "Show yourself, honorless cur !"

"No", chuckled the unseen Master, "I don't think I will. I am more than satisfied with the result of this engagement. Withdraw, Archer. Your job here is done. Goodbye, Saber. I advise you to enjoy what time you have left in this world before your prana runs out. And as for you, Miss Einzbern, I will see you again shortly."

The voice fell silent. They waited tensely for a few moments, but it didn't speak again.

"They are gone," said Saber eventually, releasing her sword and letting it dissipate into formless aether.

"How do you know ?" There was no doubt in Lancer's tone, only the need for clarification before she let down her guard. Saber looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"So you don't have the Intuition Skill," she murmured. "That explains why it fell to my Master to save yours. Let's just say that there is no more danger around us and leave it at that."

It was only then that, finally, Illya's brother fell, caught in the arms of his Servants, ragged breaths leaving his lips. Saber gently laid him low before tearing off his shirt, a fierce scowl on her face as she took in his exposed wound. The arrow vanished, falling apart in a shower of pink shards that faded away to nothingness, leaving only the damage it had inflicted behind.

Shirou should already be dead, Illya realized as she got a better look at the injury. Archer's arrow (even if the other Master had lied to try and mislead them, the manner of the attack betrayed the Servant of the Bow as the culprit) had hit him right under the heart, tearing through his left lung and missing his spinal column by a hair's breadth. Worse than that, she could still feel the power of the arrow, a curse that lingered in the wound. Purple tendrils spread under the skin from where the arrow had hit, burning through Magical Circuits and blood vessels alike.

And yet, her brother still clung to life, though judging by his face he wasn't enjoying the experience.

He tried to speak, but could only get out a wet gurgle. Abandoning that course of action, he locked eyes with Saber, and Illya sensed the silent communion before the two, ending when Shirou's head fell back down. For a terrifying moment, she thought he had finally perished, but he still twitched, and his chest still rose and fell, blood spurting from the wound with every tortured breath.

He saved me, thought Illya. He took that attack for me.

Why ?

Why ?! He was going to die from this, and he had to have known a Servant's attack would be lethal, even to … whatever it was he actually was. So why had he sacrificed himself for her ? He didn't know her ! She was no one to him ! Just the girl his father had abandoned, little better than a complete stranger ! Why would he do that ? Why, why, why ?!

How was she supposed to feel now ? What was she supposed to do ?

Before Illya could decide, the day hit her with yet another shock. After wordlessly glaring in Illya's direction, Saber slammed her lips against Shirou's, kissing Illya's brother right in front of her.

Illya's knowledge of romance could best be described as 'non-existent', limited to a handful of fairy tales her mother had told her before her death – those books had all been burned after Kiritsugu's failure in the Fourth Grail War. And the most she had seen of it had been a chaste kiss exchanged between Kiritsugu and Irisviel before putting Illya to bed.

This … wasn't the same kind of kiss. Even with one of the participants unconscious and on the verge of death, it was much more passionate. It also went on and on, lasting well over a minute, during which Illya and Lancer stood by awkwardly, neither knowing how to react or able to look away.

Saber finally pulled her lips off Shirou's, her pale face flushed and frowning.

"It isn't enough," she murmured, before looking at Lancer, and then at Illya. For a few seconds, she considered something, before nodding to herself, having made some unseen decision.

"You," she told Lancer. "Kiss him."

"What ?!"

Lancer's face had been just as flushed as Illya's from witnessing the kiss, but now Illya's Servant looked like she might faint from sheer embarrassment at Saber's unexpected command.

"Avalon's inside of him," Saber explained, impatience plain on her face as she casually revealed something that would have sent most Clocktower Magi into a frenzy. "After years of having our scabbard dissolved throughout his body, Shirou can use his own prana to activate it, but the attack scrambled his Circuits and he can't properly feed it power. As Avalon's true owner, my own prana can activate the scabbard's healing properties, but I have almost emptied my reserves."

It was only then that Illya realized that, while she was watching her brother being kissed by his Servant, Shirou's wound had begun to close. The gaping hole in his chest was smaller than it had been, and the tendrils of purple energy were retracting instead of spreading further. His od was still a complete mess, but his breathing had gotten steadier.

"You, however, still have plenty of prana to spare," continued Saber, "and you are also King Arthur, the true owner of Avalon. And he got that wound protecting your Master. So hurry up and kiss him so that he can heal !"

Flustered, Lancer looked at Illya beseechingly, asking for instructions. The expression felt strange to see on the face of her proud, beautiful and confident Servant, though Illya couldn't help to think that Lancer still looked very pretty even then.

"Please, Lancer," the half-homunculus said at last. "I don't … He saved my life. And if Saber can activate Avalon, then that means that what they told us about the Grail not working as intended has something to it. I owe him that much at the very least."

Lancer gave her a betrayed look, before giving up and kneeling at Shirou's side. Saber stood up, keeping an eye on their surroundings and leaving her Master completely at the mercy of the Servant who had tried to kill him mere minutes before. Illya wasn't sure what to think of that – on the one hand, Lancer wouldn't strike at Shirou on her own in such circumstances, and she wasn't going to ask her to, but still … part of her felt somewhat vexed that the Servant of the Sword had so accurately judged her so quickly.

The kiss between Lancer and Shirou was nowhere near as heated as the one Saber had given to her Master, which was strange considering the two Servants' apparent age. Over the centuries, Magi had found a multitude of ways to exchange prana, though one of the most convenient, drinking blood, was frowned upon due to its association with Dead Apostles. Without the creation of a contract, the exchange of fluids remained the quickest way to do it, though it was far from being even remotely efficient.

As Lancer clumsily shoved her tongue inside Shirou's mouth, Illya felt the prana flow between her Servant and her brother, and the former's surprise at how easily it was being absorbed piercing through the embarrassment. Then came recognition, and awe : this was indeed Avalon inside the young man, the Noble Phantasm dispersed throughout his body and struggling to keep him alive and heal the wound he had received.

A lot of prana passed from Master to Servant to Master, the amount increased by the inefficiency of the process. It would have left an ordinary Magus on their last rope, but with Illya's artificially increased reserves it was barely enough to leave her winded.

When Lancer finally stopped, Shirou looked much better. He was still unconscious, and the wound on his chest still looked raw, but his breathing was stable, and there was no visible trace of the curse.

He was alive. He was going to survive. Her brother wasn't going to die because of her, after all.

"That will do," said Saber with a nod of thanks once she was done inspecting her Master. "He'll survive until I can get him home and get the other girls to look at his wound."

A feeling Illya didn't recognize formed in her chest at the Servant's words.

"The other girls ?" repeated the half-homunculus. Saber looked at her silently for a moment, expression indecipherable, before answering :

"As my Master tried to tell you, he's allied with the Matou and Tohsaka Masters. They're both aware of the Grail's corruption, and have joined his efforts to prevent the War from aggravating the situation and destroy the taint."

"And that alliance," asked Illya slowly, "involves them staying in the holdings of the Emiya family ?"

Saber shrugged. "Yes. Rin Tohsaka moved in for the duration of the War, but Sakura Matou already lived there."

"I see," said Illya, looking down at her unconscious brother. "I see," she repeated, frowning at the still-present feeling in her chest.

"It's to be expected," continued Saber casually, face turned back toward her Master so that Illya couldn't see the small smile on her face. "After all, the three of them are very close."

Illya's face twitched, and the hatred she had felt for so long briefly reared its ugly head as she understood what the Servant was implying. While she had been suffering in the Einzbern Castle, her brother had been … No. She forced herself to calm down, to turn away from the fury. She hadn't forgiven her brother, even now, but he had risked her life to save her own – had, for all that knew, given his life to save her, even if he had hoped Avalon would let him survive. He deserved to be heard, once he had recovered. If she liked his explanation, she might even give him a chance to pay back his debt to her in a way that didn't involve his death.

Saber stood up, carrying Shirou in his arms with an ease belying her petite stature, and looked down at Illya.

"This meeting didn't go quite as any of us would have wanted, I think, but at least we are all still alive. What are you going to do now, Illyasviel ?"

"I want … I want to know more about what you told us. About the Grail, and about Kiritsugu."

Saber nodded. "Come with me, then. There is much my Master wanted to share with you, and with Archer still out there, I don't think it safe for us to separate right now. We can regroup at the Emiya residence and start talking while we wait for my Master to fully recover."

At Illya's side, Lancer tensed. Saber was, after all, suggesting that her Master walk into the lair of another Master, where two other Masters and their Servants waited.

"You will be safe," told Saber, sensing her counterpart's doubts. "I will explain the situation to Rin and Sakura. It was always our plan to make allies of the other Masters, so they will welcome you."

Illya looked upon her slumbering brother, whose face was still twisted in pain, and made her decision.

"It took a lot of prana to heal him," she said. "If he dies in an ambush on the way home, it will all be wasted. I suppose me and Lancer can help you get home, and make sure that he recovers."

Illya smiled, and though the expression wasn't as bloodthirsty as it had been before, it would still have made Shirou very, very worried if he had seen it – though not nearly as much as her next words :

"Of course, my dear Onii-san will have to repay me for the effort."

AN : And the first step toward rectifying another of Fate's most grievous tragedies is taken. Not going to lie, Illya's canon backstory is almost as heartbreaking that Sakura's ... though Shirou would argue that it isn't a competition, and I agree with him.

Sorry for the two months waiting. Writing dialogue continues to be difficult. Would you believe that this chapter actually ended up being finished earlier than I thought it would ? That's because, during the latest event on FGO, I made a promise that if I managed to roll Kama (the latest 5-star Servant made available during the event), I would focus on writing this story exclusively for three weeks.

By this point, I probably should make my peace with the fact that when it comes to FGO's Gacha system, I am a superstitious fool.

It took 450 Saint Quartzs, my entire reserve accumulated over months of free play, but I got her on the last pull. So ... time to pay my dues. This chapter wasn't the only thing I got done since then, of course : I have ironed out the details of the next few chapters and developed some of the background that will get revealed later on in the story.

I have also searched for a picture I could use as a cover for this fic on ffnet, but haven't found anything that clicked, for lack of a better word. If any of you have an idea, please contact me, either in a review or through PM.

Another thing I am considering for this story going forward, inspired by From Fake Dreams by Third Fang (an excellent story that I recommend to every fan of Fate), is to add Omakes to the chapters, exploring alternate possibilities (such as different Servants being summoned, different crossovers with the Roboutian Heresy ... anything, really). Please tell me if you think this is a good idea, and tell me any suggestions you might have.

Thank you all for your support, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As an additional threat, below are the profiles of the two Servants involved in this chapter's fight. These are based on the FGO profiles, adjusted according to the events of the story. For instance, Saber has a E-ranked Luck, on account of, you know, being trapped in the Black Grail for ten years after being summoned by Kiritsugu Emiya and forced to destroy the Grail she was hoping to claim.

I am hoping to get the next chapter finished faster, but I make no promises. It is, after all, going to be almost exclusively dialogue. Still, I am hoping it will be shorter than this one - I did start this story with the intent of writing shorter, but more frequently published, chapters.

Zahariel out.

Artoria Pendragon (Alter)

Class : Saber

Strength : A
Endurance : A
Agility : D
Mana : A++
Luck : E

Noble Phantasm : Excalibur Morgan
Rank : A++
Type : Anti-Fortress

Skills :
Mana Burst A
Magic Resistance B
Intuition A
Charisma E
Riding B

Artoria Pendragon, Wielder of the Holy Spear

Class : Lancer

Strength : B
Endurance : A
Agility : A
Mana : A
Luck : C

Noble Phantasm : Rhongomyniad
Rank : A++
Type : Anti-Fortress

Skills :
Mana Burst A
Magic Resistance B
Riding A
Charisma B
Protection of World's End EX