Shirou was debating once again how the hell he got himself into these situations, but realized that the point would be moot. He glared at the vultures gathering around him, he wasn't dead damn it! And don't look so disappointed! He shooed them away with a small shout.

He had been lucky, that he was able to grab onto a floating piece of debris when the tower was destroyed, and even luckier when he drifted into a beach. However, he had done his part, he had saved them. Only his promise to join Fairy Tail was left, and he still needed to make sure they reached the guild safely, but how could he do that when he didn't even know where he was.

Once again, he was thankful that Rob was there. He knew the exact location of Fairy Tail so the others wouldn't have to spend the time searching or gathering information. Still, Rob wasn't in any shape to fend off any attackers, not that he was any better.

His shoulder stung from the injury he had sustained at sea, a chipped and sharp plank of drift wood embedded deep within his skin. His blood bled profusely, explaining his light headedness and why he was talking to animals. Breathing in, he closed his eyes and created a sword of smoldering heat with the magical energy he had left.

He clenched his teeth before pulling the drift wood out, and promptly laid the flat of the fiery red blade against his skin. He choked back a gasp as he burned his wound closed, adding to the numerous scars that ran across his body. He really did miss the perks of having Avalon, the healing and defensive sheath of King Arthur, inside him. Only remnants of its power still lingered within him, healing him of more trivial wounds, and keeping him alive from the more severe.

If he had it however, not a single scar would have been left on his body.

It was unfortunate that he couldn't create a copy in the tower, otherwise, he would have used it on the others. He really hated how it took him so long to understand how to utilize his mage craft.

He pulled the blade away and winced as he attempted to move his arm, but he paid more attention to his surroundings: A cold and desolate wasteland piled high with thick snow. His breath came out in cold wisps of fog, his lips purpling from the combination of icy water and chilling coastal winds.

Staggering onto his feet, he decided that before anything, he needed to find shelter, or at least somewhere warm.

Slowly, he began walking, the snow sinking up to his thighs and growing deeper the farther inland he went. With nothing but the rags he was supplied from the Tower of Heaven, he was left ill prepared to combat the freezing temperatures. Reinforcement could only go so far before giving out to the cold.

Frost was beginning to form over his eyelashes, his hair hopelessly matted with snow that continued to melt the closer it fell towards his scalp. At least he didn't have to worry about anymore pain, it wasn't like he could feel it anyway.

A snow rabbit appeared in his sights, hopping atop the snow. His stomach growled, and he entertained the notion of hunting and cooking the thing, but decided it would take to much energy. Even still, without shelter how could he start a fire without it getting snuffed out?

He crossed his arms to conserve warmth as the ground continued to crunch beneath him. The snow was up to his waist now, and still there were no signs of any sort of unlikely settlement. It wasn't as if he expected to find one out in the harsh tundra he was in, but he believed in mankind's ability to adapt.

His eyes glazed over, his vision blurring.

Damn it.

"Hey,"

A voice called. He blinked his eyes, and was just barely able to mutter a response before he collapsed, covered in the snow.

Was that really her brother?

Lisanna shivered behind Mirajane's back, and Elfman was no better.

A storm raged in the sky, clouds obscuring the sun and creating looming shadows that stood in contrast to flickering flames.

Lisanna clasped her hands together and peered at her brother. He had grown, his shirt ripped to shreds by the steel of sharp blades that stemmed from his arms and legs. His face and torso were bare except for the sheen of polished metal, his eyes narrowed and bloodshot; his hair seemingly composed of steel mesh and wire.

He didn't speak. No one did. Not when the malefic aura of sheer pestilence that stemmed from her brother encroached the entire area. She was scared, frightened even. She couldn't understand, no couldn't comprehend how this could possible be her brother.

Mirajane felt Elfman and Lisanna behind her tense, but she could hardly blame them. "S-Shirou?" She called. No answer. All that she could hear was the steady rasp of his breath, the grating of steel mechanisms.

She swallowed, legs carrying her forward, yet she stopped as swords hovered in the air, forming from nothing.

It was then that her brother began to move, eyes darting from villager to villager before settling onto the torch bearer and-

She covered Lisanna's eyes and shoved Elfman's head down as the man fell over screaming, the torch in his hand snuffed out by his very own blood. The blow had been quick, something that she couldn't even see, but it was blunt and forceful enough to drive the man careening into the stiff necked-crowd, his torch arm bent at an odd angle. Her gaze lowered to his legs, but she quickly turned away, denying all that she had just seen.

"M-Mira-nee?" Elfman called. He hadn't seen what had happened, yet he could clearly hear it.

"Just don't look up Elfman, please," she replied.

He wasn't dead, was he? She didn't want to look again, but it was enough for her that she could still hear his pained groans. The bruise on her left arm stung, Lisanna trying to pry her hand away from her face. "Stop!" She snapped at Lisanna. This was for her own good.

Lisanna froze, Mira-nee had never yelled at her before, and never so insistently. She could hear the screaming, the groans just out of sight. Why wasn't she allowed to see? She wanted to see; she needed to see if her big brother was alright. She struggled futilely, her actions drawing a restrained hiss from her older sister.

"Lisanna!" Mirajane yelled. Why couldn't she be more like Elfman and listen to her in this situation? She shivered as she stared at Shirou.

There was no malice, nor purpose in his gaze. It was just a simple detached look, neither good nor evil, neutral if anything. Like a sword whose purpose was decided by its wielder. He strode forward, one step then two.

The swords that hovered around him spun horizontally on an internal axis, forming drills that pointed specifically at each individual villager. Even from where she was standing, she could hear the buzz of displaced air in wake of the sword's angular velocity. She had no doubts about their intended purpose.

Don't, don't do it, she pleaded. Regardless if she felt they deserved it, life shouldn't be taken lightly.

Their eyes met, and for a fraction of a second she had seen his hesitance, but that was it. With a single swing of his arm, the hovering swords launched at their intended targets.

The crowd screamed, cowering back as the swords bore holes adjacent to their legs. Mirajane could only sigh in relief before she realized she had taken her eyes off of Shirou. And that was all it took.

One moment he was there, the next a wave of flying bodies. He had jumped into the crowd, she realized, and then begun to swing, bat, and charge at anyone who carried a weapon. Mr. Marcy who lashed Elfman with his whip, Mrs. Conaly who beat them with rocks, and even Sarah Conrad who lashed out at Lisanna for standing out for her, all of them were defeated as easily as cracking an egg.

O God. She brought a hand over her mouth, and quickly realized her error.

Elfman still had his gaze obediently down, but Lisanna?

It was too late. To her horror, Lisanna was staring pale-faced at the carnage around her: The injured, the weeping, and the cruelty.

At the center, Shirou held a villager, Thomas Malthus, the instigator of the whole mess, by the neck with one hand. He had already hated the Strauss family after a grudge with the deceased father, and had jumped at the chance to ruin his family. Fist after fist beat down relentlessly over him, blood spilling over the ground after each sickening thud.

"S-Sto-"

Thomas's voice went unheard. He already found it hard to breath, his nose broken, and face beginning to swell as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Although horror stricken, Mirajane didn't move.

They deserved it. Her eyes lingered on the bruises and small welts that covered Lisanna's arms and legs. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it looked like beneath her dress. But still…

As for Lisanna, everything was simply a nightmare.

She didn't know what to do. She had been so excited about just getting to eat meat again after four weeks of whatever Shirou-nii could scrounge. And then everything happened so quickly from there. Someone had thrown a stone through their window again, but she was used to that. It was the fact that there had been a crowd outside that had scared her. It had never happened before. She couldn't even begin to explain how she felt when a torch set her home ablaze. Mirajane's panicked yells and Elfman's denials did little to set her worries aside.

Despite it all, Mirajane had saved them from burning within the house, but things just didn't end. As soon as Mirajane had stepped out of the house, and as soon as the people saw her arm, chaos had ensued. They had dragged Elfman and her away from Mirajane before proceeding to beat her with sticks and stones. She and Elfman had charged in after the torch bearer attempted to burn Mirajane, but they did little more than earn their own beatings.

Shirou-nii, where was he?! They would never do something like this if he was here.

The villagers didn't speak of it, but they were always wary of the eldest Strauss. He had been the one to kill the monster in the church by himself and he was able to hunt alone. It would normally take four or five men just to kill a simple deer, and keep it from running away. But the eldest Strauss was able to hunt consistently by himself which spoke of his skill.

And then, and then Shirou-nii had arrived, a deer hung loosely over his shoulder. All hell broke loose from there, which led to the present.

Lisanna staggered forward, eyes drawn to the form of her brother. What had he become? And what had happened to the brother she knew? She couldn't stare at the numerous bodies that lay scattered around her, not when she knew it was the fault of her brother.

She was trembling, her legs about to collapse beneath her, but it was watching her brother loom over Sarah Conrad after tossing Thomas away that broke her out of her shell.

She couldn't breath.

"N-No!" Lisanna pushed forward, blocking Archer's path. "Shirou-nii isn't like this!" She cried, eyes closed. "H-He's kind, he's smart, he's caring," tears were dripping down from her eyes; each word she uttered reducing the number of blades that covered Archer's arms and legs.

The red began to leave Archer's vision. What had he been doing? His gaze glanced at the forms of the fallen, realization dawning.

Retribution.

But at what cost? He was the eldest, the one his siblings looked up to. What image had he painted with his actions?

A horrid one based on how hard Lisanna was crying.

"He plays with me, smiles at me, gives me toys," she continued, cheeks growing puffy, and her head bowed low. "H-He looks for work, he feeds us, d-does our laundry," she hiccupped. "A-And he's my big brother who-"

A pair of arms wrapped around Lisanna. "I'm sorry," Archer spoke, his form back to normal. He cupped the back of Lisanna's head and pressed her face into his shoulder. "I, I…"

Lisanna wrapped her arms around her brother, wrapping herself in his warmth. This was her big brother, her stupid selfless brother. The one who would come home dirty and clothes torn, but with the biggest smile on his face as he picked her up before moving on to ruffle Mirajane's hair and fist bump Elfman. The one who would go deep into the dark forest to go hunting when food was low, and even then, hardly ate any of it. Her grip tightened, she didn't want to let him go.

Mirajane and a Elfman tentatively stepped forward before losing to their own urges.

Four orphans, four siblings, stood huddled, arms drawing each other close.

Archer pulled his siblings in, his eyes glaring at the villagers that remained, daring them to try anything. His glare alone was enough to send them thoroughly running, the terror coursing through their veins sending chills down their spines. He could kill them now, save his family the trouble. He shook his head to remove such tempting thoughts and instead focused on his family.

At this point, there was only one thing on his mind. He glanced down at his siblings and tried to lift their spirits by smiling gently, but even he could feel that it was strained.

He stared up at the ashes of his home, and clenched his fists. All those years of hard work, and tedious labour, all for nothing. The Strauss siblings were now homeless.

It didn't matter anymore if they were ready, or if they were not. Patting them on their shoulders, he slowly began leading them away towards the distant hills, to the far-off town of Magnolia.

Elfman looked back and forth from the village to the road ahead, his brows furrowed in worry, and Archer answered his unasked question.

"We're getting out of this village."

Thanks for reading and Merry Christmas!

Next Update: Fate In-Time

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