It is the tenth century of the current age of the World. Since the fall of the Western Roman Empire, most of what will one day be called Europe has been locked in a dark age of strife and ignorance, petty warlords locked in perpetual feuds while monsters lurk in the shadows.
In the east of that suffering continent, there lies a mountain whose entrails have been dug up by generations of miners, who make a living trading the ore to other settlements. By the standards of the era, it is a prosperous and peaceful place, well-defended from brigands and beasts alike.
Until the day they find something in the mountain, that was buried there in another age.
Within days, the town is empty, its inhabitants taken by the slaves of that which sleeps and remade into more slaves to its slumbering will. Then comes the Magus. His name is Darius, a wanderer who has studied the philosophies of the Far East and is returning to his homeland carrying wisdom few of his contemporaries would have the wit to accept. He arrives and finds the empty town, and seeks the truth of what happened. He is strong, stronger than the villagers who were taken, and defends himself against the slaves of the horror beneath. He goes into the mountain to confront the source of this evil.
He finds it. His mind burns, aflame with terrifying implications, but Darius is no fool, and he isn't weak. He doesn't succumb to its corruption as the villagers did : instead, he sets its slaves free the only way he can. But he cannot kill it. He leaves, scarred and horrified by what he saw, and collapses the mountain atop it to keep others from being afflicted by its corruption. It is the greatest feat of Magecraft he has ever performed, and it almost kills him, but he knows such will not be enough to kill it.
He calls it Pandora, but it isn't its name. He just calls it that because it seems to fit : the source of all evil, keeping hope locked away. For months, he is haunted by visions of it, tormented by the knowledge of its existence. He thinks of revealing its existence to others, to gather an army with which to confront and destroy it, but he dreads what the ambition of other Magi might push them to do if they learn of it. He cannot trust anyone with this secret, for the threat of Pandora unleashed is too terrible to consider.
Eventually, he comes to a decision. If he can reach the Root, if he can join the ranks of the Magicians, he might just be able to kill Pandora and free both himself and the World from its presence. And so he dedicates himself to this goal with a fervor few Magi throughout the ages have ever matched.
But for all his talent, Darius Ainsworth is still just a man. He ages, he grows old, and eventually he must face death, his purpose still unfulfilled. Like many, he rejects this end; unlike most, he actually finds a way out.
He transports his essence, his self, away from his body and binds it into another. That first time, he uses a homunculus, purchased a great cost from a renowned family of alchemists. For the first two centuries of his existence, that is how he endures, but eventually, the process of his immortality starts to take its toll. The transference is not, cannot be perfect : always something is lost. A copy of a copy of a copy cannot be identical to the original.
Slowly, the moral imperatives that drove him to destroy Pandora are eroded. Why waste resources on homunculi, when he can make more vessels the old-fashioned way ? And so he founds the House of Ainsworth, finds someone to bear his children, and begins a thousand-years long cycle. He binds himself to his bloodline, forever usurping the lives of his descendants until he accomplishes his goal.
He tells himself his goal is worth the costs, that it will only last until he succeeds.
But to one who would be endless, the means bring their own consequences. When he is first reborn in this manner, when he steals the life of his own son, his knowledge of Pandora is lost. His knowledge of the purpose behind reaching the Root is lost. Without it, his mind must construct a new justification for his awful sin, because the human psyche cannot bear the weight of such a monstrous crime. He embraces the values of the Magi, the pursuit of knowledge and the Root at the expense of all else.
He becomes the monster that will plague his descendants for a thousand years.
And so it continues. Every rebirth, every copy, loses a bit more of what made Darius himself. Twenty-six generations later, all that remains is the all-consuming obsession with Akasha, and the tatters of a once-kind and noble soul twisted into something that would horrify the original Darius even more than Pandora itself.
Perhaps that is coincidence. Perhaps that is what it intended all along, the madness planted during that first confrontation finally blossoming. Who can tell ?
November 23rd, 2004 AD – Fuyuki City
"Ghost House"
Darius let out a deep breath as the Bounded Fields around the house slammed shut.
He had managed, barely, to close the trap around his foes. One second later, and that sword Emiya could conjure out of nothing would have ruined everything. But now, the space around them was locked in, and they wouldn't escape unless they found one of the keystones of the Bounded Fields. Of course, given how perceptive the enemy Master was, such was only a matter of time.
But Darius didn't intend to give them that time. They were in his territory, where he was stronger than anywhere else except the Ainsworth Castle.
"Our enemies have fallen into our trap," he announced to his Servants. "Prepare yourselves : neither of them will get out of here alive."
Neither Archer nor Assassin moved. They were staring at him.
"What's wrong ?" He suspected he already knew, and was soon proved right.
"She's our sister," hissed Assassin. She looked angry, which was the most expression she had shown since he had summoned her. "Hunting fool humans and Masters is one thing, but do you think we'll really fight her ?"
Darius had seen that coming. He had been in communication with Archer during the ambush by his Dolls – which had performed far more poorly than he had anticipated – and had sensed her shock when she had seen and recognized Berserker. With his Dolls being slaughtered and Archer's surprise attack failing to even harm Emiya this time, the Ainsworth Head had adapted his plan on the fly, ordering Archer to withdraw to the house while making sure Berserker followed her. He hadn't expected Emiya would come along, but he could work with it – so long as the fish he had caught with his bait didn't end up eating him alive.
"Didn't she kill you both ?" Darius pointed out. "Killed you and ate you, I might add. I admit my understanding of family is rather poor, but surely such a thing would strain any sisterly bond you might have shared ?"
"You are right : your understanding is poor." Somehow, Darius didn't think Assassin was referring just to his understanding of familial matters. "She's our sister, and nothing can change that."
"Regardless, you will fight her."
"No. We won't."
He looked at her, then at Archer. The other Servant was showing the same defiant resolve. He sighed. He didn't have time for this, which meant he would have to resort to extreme measures.
"By the power of my Command Seal," he said, smiling slightly as the two Servants tensed, "Archer, Assassin, I order you : you will follow my instructions and fight the Servant Berserker and the Master Emiya to the best of your abilities while they are within my domain."
He didn't like adding the qualification to the order, but studying the journal of the dead Master in his possession told him it was best not to use the Command Seals on absolute orders : those tended to be weaker as a result. And if the enemy Servant and Master made it out, then his odds of killing them dropped dramatically; by that point, it would be better to abandon the base and retreat to one of the rooms he had prepared as fall-back positions across the city.
He felt the burn on each of his hand as the Command Seals were spent, and saw Archer and Assassin writhe in discomfort as they tried to fight off the order before it settled into them, compelling them to obey. They glared at him, an expression that did nothing to diminish their beauty.
He now had one Command Seal left for Archer and two for Assassin. It was a great expense, but if he could kill Emiya, the most dangerous Master of the alliance he faced would be removed, and he could deal with the other Masters individually after. The young man's death was also likely to enrage the others, driving them to make mistakes he could take advantage of. His Servants' Classes were ideal for that sort of work.
"Now," he began. "Here is how we'll proceed …"
With her sister gone from her senses, Berserker's mind slowly cleared. The first thing she noticed was the voice of her Master in her head.
Berserker ? Sakura's mental voice was worried. Can you hear me ?
She nodded, distracted, before remembering her Master couldn't see her. Yes, Master. I can hear you.
Are you alright now ? Your thoughts were all over the place.
I – yes, Sakura. I am alright.
We are being watched, sent Shirou through the telepathic network binding all members of their strange alliance. Don't talk out loud.
She silently nodded.
We are trapped inside the house. There are a lot of Bounded Fields around us messing with space. We could probably break through them, but I don't know what would happen to the house if I do.
Master, sent Saber urgently. Call me to your side, now. We'll break free of this trap together and lay low this despicable foe.
No, Saber.
Why not ?!
If Berserker and I can't deal with this trap, then adding you to our group is unlikely to achieve anything except add to the casualties. We've to keep Illya's condition in mind.
You … What's the point of me being your Servant if I can't be at your side when fighting another Master ?!
There was genuine anguish in Saber's mental voice, which didn't surprise Berserker. The Servant of the Sword's attachment to her Master was obvious.
There might be more Dolls ready to ambush you, explained Shirou calmly. And you could also run into Assassin or Caster out there. We must keep at least one Servant with every Master.
Then Sakura can call Berserker to her side and -
Saber ! It was the first time Berserker had heard Shirou raise his voice to his Servant, which was weird, given none of them were speaking aloud. Berserker's sister is here. I won't ask that of her.
Saber went silent.
We'll try to delay confrontation for as long as possible, Shirou continued. I would like to see this place's Bounded Fields try to keep three versions of King Arthur out.
With that, the conversation was over, and they started to move, hoping to prevent the enemy Master from setting things up by not staying in one place. They moved through the building, passing from one room to the next. There weren't many rooms in the house, however, and soon they began to repeat as the entire house looped on itself. They passed through room after room full of pieces of broken furniture, covered in a thick layer of dust. Some of the walls were broken in or burned, though the doors they passed through had been replaced recently.
A battle was fought her, Berserker sent to Shirou. A long time ago.
Yes. I wonder – this house is old enough to have been here for the Third Grail War, and it's built in the Western style despite being in the Eastern side of the city.
Do you think … ?
It certainly seems plausible, doesn't it ? Perhaps one of the previous Masters had it built. We might need to investigate later -
He was interrupted by the first attack of the trap they had walked in because of her loss of control. An arrow suddenly appeared right in front of his face, heralded only by the slightest disturbance in the air as the Magecraft of the enemy Master displaced it. Thanks to his supernatural sight, Shirou barely managed to move out of the way, just in time to merely be cut on the cheek instead of shot in the eye.
Immediately, he drew upon his power, spreading his shadowy wings and Reinforcing his entire body even further than he already had been.
More attacks came, from all directions at once. They kept moving, rushing through the endlessly repeating rooms and corridors, dodging out of the way of her sister's projectiles. Euryale couldn't deploy her Noble Phantasm that often, of course, but she could use lesser attacks. Every time, Berserker felt the slightest hint of her sister's presence, before it was shut down, leaving only the attack behind. It was maddening.
After several minutes, however, Archer finally revealed herself. Berserker slammed open a door she and Shirou had already broken four times, and froze as she saw who awaited in the center of the next room. Shirou rushed to her side, stopping as well as he took notice of the other Servant.
"Will you kill me again, sister ?" said Euryale.
Euryale was being forced to say that. Medusa knew it. It was obvious, even to someone who didn't know her sister as well as she did. The words came out forced, and Euryale was grimacing as they left her mouth. She was under the effect of a Command Seal.
It still felt like a dagger had been thrust into Berserker's heart. She recoiled, her body spasming as suppressed memories tried to return to the surface. Teeth, claws, HUNGER, blood, the last moment of horror rending her sanity before she became the Monster forevermore …
Berserker ! shouted Sakura's voice in her head. Her Master's trying to make you lose control ! Don't fall for it !
She knew that. Of course she knew that ! But the memories were too strong. She could feel the Command Seal restraining them weakening.
Berserker couldn't move. Too many emotions were tearing her apart – guilt, anger, grief, self-hatred, horror …
It was then that another presence entered the room, and the shock of recognition was almost enough to shake off the paralysis that had seized her – almost, but not quite. The figure appeared to Euryale's side, almost undistinguishable from the other Servant, except for the missing bow and the wrist on which she wore her elaborate bracelet.
Rin, listen ! Shirou shouted over the link. There is another Servant here ! She looks just like Archer … it's Assassin ! She's Stheno, the other Gorgon -
Shirou's mental voice stopped as Stheno advanced toward him. She made no move to defend herself – but Shirou didn't attack. More to the point, he couldn't attack. His sword wavered, before he lowered it entirely, stabbing it into the floor. The wings that stretched from his back stopped moving, though it felt more to Berserker as if they were holding their breath.
Her eldest sister was a being of perfect, otherworldly beauty. The same beauty had driven so many men to seek to possess her, and made it necessary for Berserker to kill them in order to protect her siblings. But now, that beauty had been weaponized, turned into something she could use to protect herself. She sang as she walked, a beautiful and haunting melody – the kind of song that made sailors drive their boats on reefs.
Stheno reached out to touch Shirou's face with her small hands, and Berserker sensed the energy gathering within her sister, about to be unleashed. Like Euryale's bow, this wasn't something Stheno had been able to do in life : the Grail's summoning system had given her that ability by taking her legendary beauty and making it into something the Assassin Class could use. Stheno's beauty had charmed many of their would-be conquerors, reducing them to playthings the sisters had eventually discarded. Even now, Berserker felt no guilt over this : they had come to enslave or slay her and her sisters, so they deserved whatever fate they'd gotten.
Shirou was a man, and, though he wouldn't claim so, a hero according to the definition of the era. He was exactly the kind of target most vulnerable to Stheno's Noble Phantasm. She could see how it would unfold, how her eldest sister's smile would rip the life from him, or at the very least leave him stripped of his wits and vulnerable to Euryale's arrows.
Instead, before she could reach him, Shirou gently caught her wrists. His wings stretched, and the power inside him flared.
"That won't work, little goddess," he said gently. "My mind is my own, and I've already given away my heart."
Stheno stared at Shirou in complete shock. It was, Berserker realized, the first time any man had looked at her eldest sister and not be caught in the spell of her beauty, one way or another. Then her expression darkened, and she pulled her wrist free of Shirou's grasp before leaping backward. She ignored the Master in the room, focusing her gaze on Berserker, who froze again, feeling the eyes of her two sisters on her.
"Sister," they repeated, speaking in perfect unison. "Have you come to kill us again ?"
"Enough," said Shirou in a voice that was far too calm to belong in a battle. "Come here, Berserker."
He caught her arm and pulled her close. Then, suddenly, everything went silent, and the temperature dropped sharply. Shirou's wings had spread out, forming a sphere around the two of them through which Berserker couldn't sense anything. They were alone, with only darkness all around them.
"Huh," said Shirou as he took in what he had done. Here, in this strange darkness, his voice no longer echoed with inhuman power. "I wasn't sure that would work."
"What did you do ?"
"I have cut us off from the rest of the world. If I'm not mistaken, my own contract with Sakura is the only reason yours hasn't been blocked. They can't listen in on us, and the spatial Magecraft their Master is using cannot reach here. If it could, it would be a True Magic, and the War would already be over."
"Why -"
"Listen to me, Medusa," he cut her off. "We can save your sisters, but I need your help to make sure they aren't hurt. I'm not strong enough to defeat them without hurting them."
"I … I'll hurt them. I'll kill them. It's what I do, Shirou. I'm … I am the monster that kills its own siblings. That's what I -"
"You are not a monster !" said Shirou, freezing her in her tracks. "You are not, no matter what you think. I swear, you're just like Sakura used to be, blaming yourself for what others did to you. It wasn't your choices that made you turn into the Gorgon, Medusa. It was the choices of the Gods."
The Gods ? She remembered the Gods. Or did she ? Her mind was clouded, and not just by the Command Seal restraining her memories to keep her from going insane again. Those memories weren't blocked, merely absent. All she recalled was their disdain, their jealousy and pettiness, which had led to hers and her sisters' exile to the Shapeless Isle, and then, when they had made their own happiness there, sent hunter after hunter to kill or enslave them.
"I won't tell you to let go of your guilt, Medusa. But you shouldn't let it crush you either, and you especially shouldn't let someone else use it to hurt you and them. What happened to your family was a tragedy – but here and now, you've a chance to do better."
A chance to do better ?
Could she ? She was a kinslayer, a monster, it was written in her legend. She had thought she was doomed to repeat that fate, and cursed the Grail for putting her in that situation. But maybe – just maybe – if Shirou was right, then …
"It doesn't matter why the Grail summoned you and your sisters," continued Shirou. "It's possible it wants you to suffer, to force you down the same path you were made to thread before."
His grip on her arm tightened.
"But you know what ? Fuck what the Grail wants. The entire plan for this War is to against it, after all. Right here, right now, we have a chance to go against whatever plans the corruption inside it has made, and to reunite you with your siblings."
"Will you help me ?"
She wouldn't be forgiven. She didn't deserve to be. Even if they were forced to speak their accusations now, whenever her sisters looked at her, they would see the monster that had devoured them. The happy reunion Shirou was imagining was a delusion, because he didn't have any idea of what she had done.
Or did he ? She remembered what Sakura had told her about her beloved. The memories not his own that haunted him, of betrayal and murder on a scope far surpassing anything she had done. Perhaps, a cynical part of her whispered, the only reason he thought she could be saved was because he had to, lest he come to believe he was a monster as well.
In the end, it came down to a very simple fact. Her sisters were being hurt by their Master, forced to obey his will. And if that Master got his way, eventually they would be sacrificed to fuel the Grail, made to face the same horrors Saber had during her captivity – and that was the best case scenario.
Medusa would not allow this.
She nodded, and Shirou lowered his wings and released her arm. Her sisters were still standing where they had been, Euryale aiming her bow at them and letting loose an arrow the moment the barrier vanished. Shirou smashed it aside with a swipe of his word, moving to place himself between them and Medusa. It was an absurd scene : a Master protecting a Berserker-Class Servant from an Archer and Assassin. Even more absurd was that Medusa trusted him to guard her.
She focused. She had the means to end this fight, had it since it had started, but she hadn't dared to use it. It would hurt her sisters, but not too badly, as long as she could control herself.
You can do it, whispered Sakura's voice in her mind. Her Master had been listening on her conversation with Shirou, and she felt her approval and trust radiate through their bond. I believe in you.
Berserker roared. She put all of her grief, all her anger and sorrow into that scream, and it resonated in realms no mortal ears could hear. In such an enclosed space, her Skill didn't distinguish between allies and foes, but Shirou barely seemed affected at all. Her sisters, however, were struck with the full force of her scream, their small bodies locking in place.
Before her sisters could recover, Medusa moved. She seized them in her arms and held them close, stopping them from moving without hurting them. Her roar's mental interference would keep them from turning to Spirit Form (usually, an enemy Servant would have been prevented from doing so by the moment of vulnerability that preceded the transformation, which she could have used to crush them).
For a moment, she simply stood there, embracing her sisters, none of the four combatants saying a word, until the sound of clapping broke the tableau.
She hadn't noticed when someone else had entered the room, arriving through the same Magecraft technique her sisters had. It was a magus, but there was something off about him, something she couldn't identify but which was deeply unnerving to her senses.
"Darius Ainsworth," said Shirou, his voice not so gentle anymore.
"Shirou Emiya," replied the newcomer.
This was not, Darius reflected, an optimal situation. It could still be salvaged, though.
One advantage of immortality was that you could afford to take risks other Magi would write off as bad ideas. Not that facing off against Emiya without his Servants was a good idea, territory advantage or not; it was just that Darius could afford to take the losses failure would incur.
Emiya and Berserker were the two greatest threats among the alliance he faced. Emiya because he was a Master capable of fighting a Servant on equal grounds; Berserker because, due to her legend, she had a fundamental advantage against Archer and Assassin. Heroic Spirits were vulnerable to the things that had killed them in life, and he doubted that rule was different for Divine Spirits manifested as Servants.
His two Servants had been killed by the Medusa in life, which gave the other Servant a conceptual advantage against them. The fact she didn't want to kill them was irrelevant : she hadn't wanted to kill them last time either, and yet it had still happened. The very idea of Medusa turning into a monster and killing her sisters was inscribed into the sisters' legend, and it would cost him the Grail if it repeated itself. Right now, Medusa was able to control herself, merely keeping his Servants immobile, but he didn't believe for one second that would last forever. Still, Emiya's skill at managing the Berserker's madness was impressive.
He had to kill Emiya now, or he might as well slit his own throat and wait for his next rebirth. Anywhere but here, his chances would have been very slim, but the Bounded Fields he had layered on this house amplified his Magecraft to near-True Magic levels. It was still a risk, but one that he had to take. With Emiya dead, he could deal with Berserker, and then the other Masters that even now were rushing toward the house. Then only the Master of Caster would be left, and with Archer and Assassin, he was confident he could defeat them even with most of his resources spent.
"I'm surprised you recognize me," he said in a conversational tone. "I'm not exactly well-known outside of my House."
"I see you, Darius Ainsworth," replied Emiya. His every word made the Bounded Fields shiver. "And with that sight, I know you. I know your name, your nature and your sins. Out of concern for Berserker's sisters, I will give you this chance. Know that the Grail is corrupted, and any wish it grants will come at terrible cost to the World and the wisher alike. Surrender your Command Seals and your Servants, then leave this country and never return. If you do this, I'll overlook your many, many crimes and let you live."
The Grail, corrupted ? It would explain how he had been selected as a double Master – despite his bluster to Zachary, he hadn't been convinced his Magecraft had managed to trick the work of the Three Families. A glitch in the Greater Grail's programming certainly made more sense. And the fact four Masters were willing to work together lent further weight to Emiya's words.
But accepting the offer would cost him this chance to reach the Root. And he wanted it. He wanted it more than anything else, and he would not abandon this opportunity fate had handed to him. Even if Emiya was right, what did it matter ? If it meant he reached Akasha, then this entire forsaken island could burn in the backlash of the Grail granting his wish. What did he care ? All that mattered was becoming a Magician. It was the only thing that was important to him, because … because …
… because he was a Magus, and Akasha was the goal of all Magi. That was all. He didn't need another reason.
"A generous offer," he sneered, "but I am not interested."
"Then I shall destroy you as I destroyed the last Magus who sought the Grail for his own selfish ends, regardless of the cost to others." replied Emiya, his voice cold as the void. Despite everything, Darius found himself shivering.
How long had it been, he thought, since he had felt fear ?
"A bold claim," he replied, smiling viciously. "Let's see if you can live up to it."
Emiya didn't bother with further talk. His wings – and merely looking at them with his Magecraft caused him a headache : they seemed to exist in more dimensions than the rest of Emiya's body – beat once, propelling him forward in blatant defiance of the laws of physics. Luckily, Darius had his own methods of messing with the laws of the World.
With a flare of his Circuits, he moved himself out of the way of the sword and directly behind Emiya, before immediately moving again as the wings tried to engulf him. He reappeared at the other side of the room, blinking to dissipate the black spots that had formed in his vision with just that brief contact with the things.
This was more than he had expected. He had watched Emiya fight Lancer in the park, and had thought he had a grasp of his strength, but clearly he had underestimated the other Master.
He very much wanted to know what Emiya was, but he wanted him dead even more.
Emiya's wings beat again. Darius barely had time to displace himself out of the way, leaving the other Master's sword to rip another wall to pieces.
For several minutes, the two Masters fought. Darius tried every trick he had, and after a thousand years of fighting and killing other Magi semi-regularly, he had accumulated a great many of them. He tried to alter the light and sound coming from him to create duplicates of himself, but Emiya ignored them all, his burning eyes seeing right through the illusion. He tried to accelerate projectiles and hurl them at him, but Emiya always saw them coming and dodged out of the way. He tried to aim at where Berserker still held his Servants, only for Emiya's wings to stretch and knock away his attack.
Emiya was playing for time, he realized. His allies were on the way, and as long as he kept attacking Darius, he could force him to keep dodging and waste his time. And once his friends got there … Darius didn't fancy the chances of his Bounded Fields against that group.
Alright, then. He would have to resort to one of his most risky techniques. He moved out of the way of another attack, focused, and prepared. Again, Emiya moved with physics-defying acceleration – but this time, Darius didn't move out of the way.
Darius cast his spell the moment the sword plunged into his chest. One mistake, one slip, and he would die. The blade seemed to pierce right through his chest and into the wall behind him, but no blood poured out. Darius had warped the space of his own body, making it so that the sword passed through a section of his being where there was no flesh. It was agonizingly painful, but compared to the spells that kept the Dolls functioning, it was child's play.
Holding Emiya's sword in place with his own body, Darius reached up and placed his hands on the young man's shoulders. He could feel the power thrumming through the layers of clothes as well as the body underneath – more power than any Magus should be able to wield without assistance.
What Darius did next wasn't pretty. It was the thaumaturgic equivalent of taking a masterwork telescope and using it to brain someone to death. He had only used that technique once in a real battle after developing it, because it made such a mess and left nothing behind that he could use.
But it was very, very effective.
He spoke the aria, a single word in a dialect whose last speaker had died eight centuries ago and that roughly translated to 'unmaking'. He pulled his hands apart, expecting one half of Shirou Emiya to stay attached to each, which would kill even the Magus Killer's heir instantly.
The spell Darius was using required absolute concentration, which meant he felt the spell unravelling in his grasp with perfect clarity. Reality broke under his grasp.
Blood ran from his eyes, nose and mouth, and his Magical Circuits were throbbing with the backlash of the failed spell. The spell that kept the sword from wounding him collapsed, and the felt the new agony of his body being rent asunder by the magical weapon embedded in his chest.
His vision was swimming, but he forced himself to concentrate, ignoring the pain as he tried to figure out what had happened. Emiya was still stood before him, glaring at him with burning eyes, but there was something different about him, something Darius couldn't identify but which reminded him of … of something …
"I AM NOT SUCH A SIMPLE THING," said the thing that wore the shape of the Magus Killer's son, "THAT YOU COULD UNMAKE ME."
Darius cried out in renewed pain at the voice. The walls trembled, and several Bounded Fields collapsed entirely at its power.
"You … you aren't human," he gasped out, more in admiration than condemnation.
"I am more human than you, Darius Ainsworth." The voice was quieter, but still carried power and threat.
Darius tried to think of a way out of this … but no. There was nothing. He was going to die here, wasn't he ? He had lost.
"Ah … ah ah ah ah ah !" He laughed, despite the pain. "Well done ! Well done indeed, Emiya !" He coughed out a mouthful of blood and smiled, his teeth painted red. I suppose you weren't bluffing earlier. Your father … must be proud !"
"In this case, yes, I think he would be. But, Darius Ainsworth. Do you think it will be that easy ?"
Through the agony of the sword impaling him, Darius frowned. "What are you – ack – talking about ?"
"I told you : I see you, Darius Ainsworth. I see the truth of what you are. I see your hollow soul wrapped around the flesh of your own blood, stealing his life so that you can cling to existence as a grotesque parasite." Despite Darius being an adult, who had been especially tall for the era of his birth, Emiya seemed to loom over him.
"And you will not escape to steal another's. Berserker !"
The Servant let go of her sisters, called a scythe into existence and leapt toward the two Masters, her beautiful features marred by a grimace of hatred. The sight of the weapon triggered Darius' memory : this was Harpe, the blade with which Perseus had killed Medusa in the original myth. A weapon said to be imbued with the power to kill the unkillable.
His thoughts almost froze as he realized Harpe might very well be able to truly and permanently kill him, despite all his efforts to secure his existence until he reached Akasha. But he hadn't survived a thousand years by being a fool. Instead, he immediately realized the last chance for victory this represented – or, if not victory, then revenge and escape from annihilation. This body was a lost cause, and so was the Grail War, that much was clear, but if he escaped, he could start again, continue his research, and one day reach the Root.
If he could escape. If he could pull off one last trick with the burning Magical Circuits of his current incarnation.
As Harpe's edge reached past Emiya's throat and straight at his, Darius reached for the other Master's chest with his bloodied hand. In his state, it was all he could do to perform the simplest form of Displacement Magecraft : the exchange of positions between two roughly similar objects. He and Emiya were both men, both Masters : here, with the Bounded Fields still supporting him, it would be enough. Emiya had resisted the Unmaking spell, yes, but that was something entirely different : there would be no attack against his essence, merely a rearrangement of the space inside the house. Technically, Emiya wouldn't move at all – the rest of their surroundings would.
He didn't know if Emiya could survive Harpe cutting his throat, but he was willing to bet he wouldn't. His hand raised -
FOR MY CHILDREN !
- and froze in place. He couldn't move it. Another will, one he had thought extinguished, prevented him from doing so. He couldn't reach Emiya, he couldn't cast the spell.
He couldn't do anything, except listen to Zachary's laughter. His host had deceived him, Darius realized, pretending to have been completely erased, biding his time in the deepest recesses of their shared existence, refusing to rise to any of the provocations Darius had sent his way. Suddenly, Darius wondered whether his decision to stick to his plan of Archer drawing his foes to his lair after Emiya had followed had really been his own, or if his descendant had subtly influenced him into taking the more risked option, remembering Harpe's part in Medusa's legend and gambling everything on it.
Or perhaps Zachary had instead been jolted awake by the sword through their chest and the backlash to their Magical Circuits. Both were plausible, and now Darius would never have the opportunity to find out.
Harpe buried itself in his throat, driven by all the strength of Berserker. It tore through skin and muscle and into his spinal column, all but decapitating him. Yet the damage to his body was the last of Darius' concerns.
Pain. Pain such as the Ainsworth founder had never felt before. Everything that made him who he was, everything he had painstakingly preserved for a thousand years, was dissolving, the Magecraft that anchored his existence falling apart at the touch of the weapon from the Age of the Gods.
He couldn't leave Zachary's body behind. He couldn't escape, displace his existence through the Ainsworth Magecraft. He was stuck here, with that oversized sword in his chest, that ancient scythe in his throat, and Death towering over him, eyes burning darkly gold.
"I told you that I would destroy you," Death said, and poured power into his sword. The blade ignited, and everything that made up the being known as Darius Ainsworth was consumed, until all that was left was Zachary, bleeding out and breathing his last with a smile on his face.
He was finally free.
Shirou pulled his sword out, letting the corpse – which had turned into another man that resembled Darius Ainsworth but clearly wasn't him – slid to the ground while suppressing the energies he had called upon. He felt his wings fold in on themselves and disappear, and his thoughts returned to their usual patterns, no longer affected by the power of the Dark Angel.
Once again, the meaning behind the words he had spoken during battle faded away, just like the context of his visions of the Dark Angel. For a moment, when Darius had tried to rip him apart with his Magecraft, he had felt … something … from the Dark Angel, an echo of emotion that reminded him of when he had confronted the shikome and sensed his own disgust echoed by the entity with which he was fused.
Next to him, Berserker let Harpe dissolve into golden motes and stepped away from him. At the other side of the room, Assassin and Archer chuckled, which was a rather disturbing reaction to the sight of a corpse in someone so young-looking. At some point, the two Servants had broken free of the paralysis induced by Berserker's scream, though much faster than Shirou had expected. One of their Skills must grant them partial resistance to mental effects.
"Good riddance," said one of them – Stheno, he saw by the position of the bracelet on her wrist. "That man was quite the detestable fellow."
"That he was, me."
"Sisters," said Berserker in a hoarse voice. "I … I'm …"
The twins – and now that he had seen Darius Ainsworth, Shirou understood how the Magus had been able to summon them both as Servants, though he was certain the Grail's corruption was involved somehow – turned toward Berserker. The tall Servant looked torn between wanting to rush to hug them again and running away.
"You idiot," Archer gently mocked, as she and Assassin moved to their sister's side. "Listen well : we love you, Medusa. We have always loved you, and we always will. Nothing will ever change that."
Medusa fell to her knees, which still left her above her sisters, and the three of them embraced. From within the embrace, Stheno turned to look at Shirou :
"Earlier, you said you wanted him to give us up and leave. But supporting three Servants will suck you dry. The consumption of me and I is low, but Darius still needed to have us hunt for prana. Is that what you intend ?"
"No. In fact, I will ask you to not do that whilst I am your Master. But as you may have noticed, I'm not exactly a normal human," he said drily. "My od reserves are a lot larger than most Magi. My Servant needs to stay in corporeal form all the time, and the drain doesn't affect me at all."
Archer and Assassin looked at each other.
"What do you think, me ?"
"I think that sounds amusing, me. It certainly beats fading from lack of prana and being taken into the Grail."
"True. He doesn't seem to be lying about it being corrupted either."
"In which case going inside would be most unpleasant."
"Then we have made our choice."
"Indeed we have, me."
As one, they gently extracted themselves from Berserker's arms and walked to him. Shirou wondered if their eerie synchronization was the result of having been summoned by an anomalous Master, or if they had always been like this. As far as he could tell, the two were not twins, even if they looked identical : Assassin had been born before Archer, and the two of them were born before Medusa, despite their appearances. Of course, 'born' might not be the right word to apply to them.
"Heed my words," said Shirou, flooding his Circuits with prana yet again. "My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.
If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me.
I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.
That I shall defeat all evil in the world.
You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power,
Come forth from the circle of binding,
Guardians of the Scales !"
Each took one of his hands into theirs and lifted them to their mouths. He hadn't expected that : as far as he knew, simply touching should be enough to re-form the contract.
"I, Stheno, in the name of Assassin, accept this contract."
"I, Euryale, in the name of Archer, accept this contract."
With that, they bit his fingers, which he admittedly hadn't seen coming. He felt their fangs pierce the skin and a little of his blood pour into their mouths, before the exchange of prana completed the aria and the two of them registered as his Servants. As they pulled away, Avalon already closing the small cuts in his palms, he started to feel their presence like he could Saber's …
Oh. Right. He had almost forgotten.
Saber ? He sent out tentatively.
Master ! His Servant's mental voice sounded both half-panicked and relieved. Is the battle over ?
Yes. Don't worry, we won. Archer and Assassin are on our side now, and their former Master is dead. Where are you ?
We're coming almost at the house. There hasn't been any other attacks since you entered.
Alright. Wait outside, we'll join up with you and go home.
The punctures on his fingers had already closed by the time the exchange was over. Shirou looked at his new Servants :
"Thank you for trusting me like this. I promise -"
He couldn't finish his sentence, because Berserker was on him. Her arms wrapped around him, hugging him to her generous bosom as tears of joy ran from underneath her blindfold.
"Thank you," she whispered fervently, shaking as she held onto him. "Thank you, thank you !"
His two new Servants were looking at him, smiling like cats that had just seen a canary bathe itself in cream.
Somehow, Shirou had the impression he had gotten himself in a much more dangerous position than he had been while fighting Darius Ainsworth.
He was rescued from his predicament when the building around them trembled, and Berserker let him go, her head darting around as she searched for danger. The Bounded Fields that warped space were collapsing : Darius must have set them up to do so upon the death of his host body. It was unlikely to kill anyone capable of dispatching him, but it did make for a good final insult before he took over his next host.
Of course, now that the parasite Magus was no more, this was instead his last spiteful act.
"We need to get out of here," said Shirou. "Quickly."
He looked around, pouring prana into his eyes, and – there.
"Everyone get ready to jump," he warned, Tracing his sword again and aiming it at a specific spot on the wall.
Ten seconds later, the four of them jumped out of the newly-formed hole in the second floor of the house and landed on the ground in front of their allies. To Shirou's surprise, it was Archer who had the most trouble with the jump : now that Stheno and her were his Servants, he could see their stats as rendered by the Grail, and Euryale's was at a surprisingly low C for someone in the Archer Class. In fact, except for their Mana and Luck stats, both of Berserker's sisters were surprisingly low-ranked in their stats, which was probably another result of their doubly irregular summoning.
Still, if the Grail was going to summon more Divine Spirits, at least they weren't embodiments of pure evil this time.
Five seconds after they landed, the Bounded Fields collapsed and the house imploded, reduced to a pile of shattered bricks, wood, and bits of Magus corpse. Shirou looked at his friends, who looked back with various expressions of relief that he was fine. Sakura rushed to Berserker's side, while Saber marched toward him, frowning and glaring at him all the way.
"Hey. I didn't take a Noble Phantasm to the chest this time," said Shirou, rising his hands in defense before his first Servant could say anything.
"That is the only reason I haven't punched you out and dragged you home before tying you up to your bed, Master," replied Saber, looking him up and down for signs of injury.
"Ooh," said both Assassin and Archer from behind them. "How scandalous."
It took Shirou a few seconds to understand what the small Servants were implying. When Saber did as well and blushed slightly before glaring at the eldest Gorgon sisters, Shirou felt a weight form in his stomach, and a sense of dread and doom came over him.
His earlier presentiment had been right. In a way, he was in a lot more trouble now that he had been fighting the Ainsworth Master.
Omake : Those Who Are Saved
November 23rd, 2004 AD – Ainsworth Castle
Since his tenth birthday, Julian Ainsworth had always been afraid. That day had been when his father Zachary had taken him to his Workshop, sat him down, and told him the truth of the Ainsworth family. How their House had been founded a thousand years ago, and how they were all just meant to be vessels for the true Head of the Ainsworth, their lives doomed to be overwritten so that the ancient Magus could continue to exist. To his credit, Zachary hadn't tried to sugercoat the truth. The same day, Darius had taken over Zachary's body and forced Julian to swear the oaths of secrecy that kept him from spreading that secret to the rest of the Moonlit World, along with others to prevent him from killing himself.
From that day on, Julian had lived with the knowledge that at any moment, his father could die, and he would become the next host of Darius Ainsworth. That sword of Damocles had always hung above his head, for every waking moment of his life. Even when Zachary stayed at home, it was always possible he would end up killing himself experimenting on his Magecraft : all Magi walked with death, and a single mistake in the use of Displacement could be fatal.
When he had understood, truly understood, Julian had tried to kill his emotions. To stop feeling anything, because he thought feeling nothing was better than the constant, sickening fear. It hadn't worked, partly because Julian was a ten-years old child, and partly because of his childhood friend, Beatrice Flowerchild.
Beatrice was Julian's only friend outside of his family. She didn't know of the Moonlit World, and their meeting had been complete coincidence, but Julian had kept in touch with her even as the Ainsworth Castle moved to another region, even managing to meet her again a few times. She and Julian were in love, though neither had admitted it to the other – albeit for very different reasons. Knowing the doom that awaited him, Julian dared not pursue more than Beatrice's friendship, knowing that any dream of being with her were only bitter delusions. Even so, her friendship, and the love of his elder sister Angelica, were the only reasons Julian hadn't yet completely succumbed to the crushing depression that had afflicted most male members of the Ainsworth family throughout its history.
Since Darius had left the Castle (and it had been Darius, with no trace left of Zachary), Julian and Angelica had stayed together, brother and sister spending as much time in each other's company as they could. There were only two possible outcomes to Darius joining the Grail War : either he would win and reach the Root, fulfilling the Ainsworth Head's centuries-old ambition, or he would die, and Julian would inherit the family curse. Though they hadn't said it out loud, both of them considered the later outcome to be the likeliest : no one had ever won the Grail War, and very few Masters had survived it.
It was the middle of the afternoon when it happened. The two of them were reading in the library when they suddenly fell off their chairs, clutching at their chests as a terrible pain spread through their Magical Circuits.
All members of the Ainsworth bloodline were implanted with a tiny fragment of the Family Crest at birth in order to tie them to the spell that ensured Darius' counterfeit immortality. Where most Family Crests reinforced their hosts, these ones were parasites that, once activated, slowly turned the Magical Circuits of their host into an exact copy of Darius' (or, in the case of women, imposed a set of geases upon them that would ensure the birth of a male heir).
Now, these Crests were burning, the magic embedded inside them turning in on itself. Angelica recovered first, since her own Crest was much less deeply ingrained, and held her brother in her arms until he stopped thrashing, keeping him from injuring himself and casting healing spells to undo the damage his body was suffering as a side-effect of the Crest self-destructing.
The ten minutes it took for it to end were among the most painful of Julian's life, matched only by the first time he had failed to properly cast Displacement and nearly killed himself by accident. Eventually, however, the pain stopped, replaced by a growing sense of shocked realization.
The Ainsworth Magical Crest was gone from his and his sister's bodies. They were free of the curse that had plagued them since birth.
"Did … did he win ?" he croaked out.
It was the only thing he could think of. If Darius Ainsworth had won the Grail War and used the Grail to reach Akasha, then he would've become a Magician. Having accomplished his ambition, it made sense that he would abandon the family he had cultivated as back-up vessels for his essence.
Angelica shook her head. "No. Magicians are powerful, but they are still mortal, Julian." Everyone in the Moonlit World knew that nowadays. "Do you really think he would release us if he had any other choice ?"
She smiled. How long had it been since he had seen his sister smile, truly smile ?
"He's dead, Julian. Dead and gone. He must have run into a Heroic Spirit that could destroy him for good."
She embraced him.
"We are free, little brother. The nightmare is over."
It was … over ?
The enormity of it all finally hit him. Darius was gone, dead beyond the power of his Magecraft to return him. Julian wasn't going to be his next vessel, slowly losing his very existence so that the founder of his House could cling to life for another few decades.
In his sister's arms, Julian Ainsworth wept for hours, in relief, joy, and grief for the father he had never really known. And when he fell asleep, exhausted, he dreamt of the future – a future that, now, was more than just a fantasy.
He didn't know who had killed Darius or why, but he swore that, if he ever got the chance, he would repay them for giving him back his life.
Medusa Gorgon
Class : Berserker
Strength : A
Endurance : B
Agility : B
Mana : B
Luck : E
Noble Phantasm : Gorgon Breaker
Rank : B+
Type : Anti-Personel
Skills :
Madness Enhancement E (initially summoned with this skill at rank A+, it was lowered to its current level by Sakura's use of a Command Seal)
Petrification Gaze A++
Roar of Fear A++
Divinity C
Stheno, eldest sister of Gorgon
Class : Assassin
Strength : E
Endurance : E
Agility : B
Mana : EX
Luck : EX
Noble Phantasm : Smile of the Stheno
Rank : B+
Type : Anti-Unit
Skills :
Vampirism C
Siren Song A
Whim of the Goddess A
Magic Resistance A
Presence Concealment A+
Core of the Goddess EX
Euryale, middle sister of Gorgon
Class : Archer
Strength : E
Endurance : E
Agility : C
Mana : EX
Luck : EX
Noble Phantasm : Eye of the Euryale
Rank : B
Type : Anti-Unit
Skills :
Vampirism C
Siren Song A
Whim of the Goddess A
Magic Resistance A
Independant Action A+
Core of the Goddess EX
AN : And DONE ! Shorter chapter ? Who said anything about a shorter chapter this time around ?
Just to be clear, don't expect that kind of speed in the future. The only reason I could do it this time was because this chapter was already half-written when I published the last one.
This chapter's omake is canon to the main story, I just couldn't think of a way to fit it in, since I'm still not sure the two surviving Ainsworth will play any part in the story going forward, and I didn't want to set up a Chekov's Gunman I would never use.
My current writing plans are to write the next installment of the Roboutian Heresy in October (I intend to publish a short trailer for it on SB soon, so keep watch if you are interested) and finish Warband of the Forsaken Sons before the end of the year, but I'm going to be moving soon, so we'll see how that affects my schedule.
As always, please tell me what you thought of this chapter and what you would like to see in the future. We passed the bar of 2000 followers a while ago, which is still mind-boggling to me, but reviews and suggestions are one of the best ways to get the creative engine running.
Stay safe, everyone,
Zahariel out.