Chapter 6 - "Beneath The Banner Of The Flying Dragon"

Shiro slept in that next morning, if sleep it could be called. For while his body lay dozing, his mind was awake and alive to another century.

"It's not uncommon for Servants and their Masters to share dreams", Rin had explained to him during the last Grail War. "You may well see memories from Saber's past life."

For all of the miseries of the previous war, this was one of the few things that he had missed. When the war had ended, Saber had remained behind, stranded in this world. And while he was certainly glad to have her with him, something about their time together had felt a bit distant, and cut off. He hadn't been able to see her dreams in any of that time – or had any of his own. Now that a new war had begun, it filled him with dread, but he was happy for the chance to renew their bond.

But the dreams she was having at that moment were a little awkward. At the moment he was standing in her bedroom.

"So these are Saber's memories . . ."

Strangely enough, he found that he could get up and move around, as if he were a person inside of her dream, instead of seeing things through Saber's eyes. The effect was not unlike being inside a reality marble.

He found the thought of looking around her bedroom a little embarrassing, but the idea of exploring a real life medieval castle was too much to resist. The interior of the room was surprisingly bright and cheerful, the walls being washed with a white plaster that gave everything a very light, airy feeling.

The door was barred with wooden planks, very serious and study looking – but the window, being set in the wall of the castle keep, faced an inner courtyard, and so was left open, covered only by a sheer white curtain that billowed slightly in the breeze.

Saber herself lay slumbering on the bed. She was dressed in a gown of white linen, with her blonde hair splayed out all around her.

"She looks like an angel . . ." Shiro thought, suddenly embarrassed in his own mind.

"Man, this is nothing like what I imagine when I think of the Dark Ages!" he said, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from her.

It occurred to him that all of the pictures he had ever seen in books or on TV shows were of castles that were in ruin.

"So this is what it was actually like to live in this time . . ." he thought, picking up a shield that stood propped in the corner.

He found the degree of workmanship surprising – far from being a crude chunk of wood, it was composed of several planks, sanded smooth and then expertly joined together. The edge was rimmed with steel, while the front was faced with leather, painted gold, and decorated with an image of a rearing blue lion. Beside it was a second shield, decorated like the first one, only the colors were reversed, so that instead of a blue lion on a gold background, it was marked with a gold lion surrounded by a blue border.

"I wonder if it's anything like having a home jersey and an away jersey for a baseball team?" Shiro thought.

"Trace on",

He hadn't really expected his powers to work here – not inside of Saber's dream – but to his surprise, a series of green lines fanned out over the body of the shield, tracing its components and materials.

"I wonder if I could make something like this with the Blade Works?" he thought. "I mean, I mostly just make swords . . ."

The complexity of wood, with its pattern of rings from the tree's growth, was completely different than the texture of steel. He noted the position of each of the rivets, as well as the placement of the leather handle straps, then let his magic disperse. Glancing at the back wall, he saw it held a rack with an assortment of spears and lances, along with a collection of battle axes and maces.

Seeing them made Shiro chuckle. Only Saber would consider weapons of war appropriate bedroom furniture.

"I guess she's the same in any age", he thought.

"Still, I wonder if she'd like something like this?" he said to himself, as he placed the shield back in the corner. He'd never known Saber to use a shield, but apparently in life she'd owned at least two of them.

"I guess as the King, she technically owned the contents of the entire armory."

As if to answer him, Saber stirred.

He heard her murmur, then watched her stretch her arms over her head, then out to her sides. And then she sat up.

"Yikes!"

As the covers fell away, he could clearly see that she wasn't wearing any pants under her gown.

It didn't appear that she could see him, but he could certainly see a lot of her, so he turned to the side as she reached for a pair of tights. She pulled on the royal blue hose, and then, with her typical lack of modesty, stripped off her gown, and tossed it on the bed, before going to stand in front of the mirror.

Her breasts had not yet taken on that fulsome generosity of a mature woman, but rather pouted atop her chest with all the defiance of youth. Saber eyed them critically, standing with her hands on her hips as she turned this way, and then that, and then cupped one with her hand, as if to judge the size and weight.

They may not have been exceptionally large or heavy, but to Shiro's mind, all of the weight of the world might as well have been in Saber's hand at that moment.

"Wait", he thought, distracting himself from his own guilt at staring at her so openly (even though he continued to stare anyway), "Saber's never been this interested in her own appearance. Maybe she was different back then . . ?"

"Hmm – they are a bit bigger. But they should still fit nicely under my breast plate. Ah well, as long as I can still swing a sword and they fit into my armor, I guess it shouldn't be a problem."

Shiro buried his face in his hand.

"I take it back – she wasn't any different at all!"

Saber patted her breast appreciatively, giving it a small bounce, then put on a white tunic, which she belted at the waist. She was in the process of tying on her sword when there came a knock at the door.

"Not wearing the royal robes today I see?"

At this, Shiro turned to see a woman of exceptional beauty standing in the chamber door. Her hair was long and flowing, of auburn brown, and coming down in waves, its long tresses hanging all the way down her back to her hips, and the beginnings of her thighs. Her skin was a milky white, appearing like crème wherever it showed at the edges of her dress – the delicate line of her wrist where it emerged from her sleeve, the shape of her ankle where it showed at the hem of her gown, and the faint hint of her collarbone where it disappeared beneath the robe's square neck.

At the sight of her, Shiro's face flamed hot.

"What the hell is wrong with me!?" he thought, embarrassed by his own lust.

After all, he had just seen Saber naked only moments before – well not all at once, but in two halves, anyway, and besides, he thought that she was much more beautiful – so what was it about this strange woman that captivated him so?

"Ah, Guin! They're too much of a pain. Besides, I think they look better on the rack anyway. They don't really suit me . . ."

At the sight of her long face, Guinivere frowned.

"Well *I* for one think you look very HANDSOME."

Saber rolled her eyes.

"Thanks! I think . . ."

At this they both shared a laugh.

"Seriously", Guinivere said, laying her hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "You're a good King."

"I'm an imposter."

"Hmph! You're a better 'Fake King' than any of the real ones I've ever met", Guinivere said defiantly, putting her hands on her hips. "And I've met quite a few . . ."

Saber smiled.

"So what has you up so early?"

"Launcelot came to visit."

"Ah – Lance! Give him my regards. And tell the others that I'll be down shortly. I'm just finishing up here."

"Would you like me to bring you up some breakfast?"

"No, I'll just get something in the hall. I'll be down soon enough. But thank you."

"Very well", Guinivere said, curtseying with a practiced grace. "I shall see my Lord at Court."

And with that she took her leave.

After she had gone, Saber took up her brush, and combed out the locks of her golden hair. The front and sides were rather short, but the back was long and flowing. This she took up, and wove into a braid, which she then wound atop the back of her head, weaving it into a plaited crown that was more beautiful than any band of metal and jewels could ever be.

She was just adding the finishing touches, and setting a few pins to help keep it in place, when there came another knock at her chamber door.

"Merlin!" she cried. "You're up early!"

"A wizard is ALWAYS early, my dear – "

" – except when he sleeps late!" Saber finished, and together they laughed at their shared joke.

"Why this is two visitors already this morning. Clearly this is going to be a wonderful day – "

Merlin frowned.

"I saw Guinivere in the hall . . ."

"Ah, yes. She came to tell me that Launcelot was here."

Merlin scowled.

"It has been noticed that Launcelot pays visits to the Queen early in the morning – "

"Bah! What of it?"

"VERY EARLY in the morning – "

"What's that to me? The whole thing is a ruse anyway. It's not like I care –"

"Other people DO", Merlin said sternly.

Saber rolled her eyes again.

"I told you that woman was going to be trouble – "

"What was I supposed to do? A King needs a Queen. It's what the people expect – "

"Always giving the people what they expect is not a wise strategy."

Saber sighed, then huffed.

"I had no choice. People were beginning to get suspicious. Besides – who ever heard of a Virgin King, anyway? Why, I'd be the laughingstock of the whole nation –"

"You'd be surprised. There might actually be a market for that kind of thing. I think the people would be rather taken with it. It would be a breath of fresh air – especially after the many dalliances of your father –"

"I happen to BE one of those dalliances, you know!" Saber retorted, pretending to be offended. "But not to worry. I could never live up to HIS reputation", she laughed, and Merlin laughed along with her.

"Uther Pendragon was many things, but discrete was not one of them. All the great houses of Britannia fought under his banner at one time or another – or against it. Why, even I once stood under the pennant of the flying dragon, sword in hand –"

"Wizards don't fight with swords!"

"They do when they're desperate!"

"Bah! Merlin with a sword! Next I suppose you'll tell me that you've fallen in love – "

"I did once – "

"Ohh – now THAT'S a story I should like to hear! I'm sure it would be much better than anything currently making the rounds with the bards and minstrels."

"I fear it would be a boring tale. Certainly not as exciting as any of your Father's . . ."

Together they laughed again.

"Uther had this unique ability to unite people behind him – and sometimes against him. But he was a good King. And a good friend."

Saber clasped her hands behind her back.

"So – why DID you help him . . ?"

Merlin's face darkened.

"I'm not angry", Saber said. "It's just – I've always wanted to ask. Why did you help him – when it came to my mother – if you knew how badly it would all turn out?"

The old wizard took a deep breath.

"The . . . affair with Igraine still troubles me, to this day. I was – younger then – in love with the idea of what I could do, and less concerned with the question of whether or not I should do it. But even then, I had the beginnings of an idea that it was going to be trouble.

'I suppose the real answer lies in the nature of Uther himself. Your father was the sort of man that would stop at nothing once he had set his mind to it. I knew that he was going to fight Gorlois, and pursue Igraine, with or without my help. With my help, at least, I figured he could be persuaded to show a measure of discretion, however small it may be. At the time, that seemed the lesser of two evils. But I'll confess, the matter still sits uneasily with me, even now.

'But then again, I wouldn't say it turned out all that badly. After all, it gave us you."

Saber smiled.

"I – only met him a couple of times, you know. And even then, I didn't know he was my father. At the time, I thought he was my uncle . . ."

"I apologize for the deception. It was necessary to protect you both."

"Even so – I genuinely LIKED the man. He was so honest in everything that he did – the way he ate and drank and laughed and fought and loved – I remember thinking, 'Such a man OUGHT to be King . . .'"

Merlin smiled softly.

"He wanted to legitimate you, you know. But the people would not have it. They could stomach a bastard King. And they could bear a woman having rule. But the idea of a bastard Queen was a bit too much for them . . . Though you wouldn't have been a bastard in the end. Gorlois was dead at the time that you were conceived. And Uther married Igraine only a few days later – well before you were born. In the end, I should say you missed out on bastardy by a good hour at least."

"Lucky me!"

"Indeed. So, it appears you've decided to turn a blind eye to Guinivere and Launcelot. But where does that leave the Succession, then?"

"I've already decided."

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I shall leave everything to Mordred. As my "nephew", there can be no question as to the bloodline, so there should be no issues of legitimacy, when the time comes."

"I see. So Britain is to have two secret Queens, then. And you have no second thoughts about condemning poor Mordred to the same fate as yourself?"

Saber shook her head.

"Quite the opposite. When the time comes, I will have Mordred revealed as my niece. I'll explain that for reasons of succession, her identity was hidden until she had been formally acknowledged. She'll have to take a Prince Consort, of course – her husband won't be able to be King, but she'll be free to love, and free to marry, and her son can be King after her. I'll give her the chance to live the life that Father wasn't able to give me."

Merlin considered.

". . . I can tell that you've thought this through. But – where does that leave your own life? And what about your own love?"

Saber laughed.

"Bah! As if I have time for any of that!"

Merlin smiled gently again.

"Mmm, well, enough of this. Let us talk of something more immediate, rather than the far off future. What are her Lordship's plans for today?"

"Ah, yes", Saber answered, grateful for the change of subject. "For today, I thought that I would go out hunting."

Merlin stared at her incredulously.

"Arturia – "

"I've got a new falcon that I would like to try out –"

"Ahem. Your Majesty –"

"And there are reports that the White Stag has been seen –"

"But your Highness –"

"It's very rare. Maybe only once or twice a year is the White Stag seen – and some years it isn't seen at all. I thought it would be nice to get Sir Bohrs and Sir Bedivere together – and of course we'll invite Sir Ector and Sir Kay, and –"

"YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS ARTURIA PENDRAGON !"
"Wha – what is it?" Saber asked timidly.

"A Monarch's duty is to stay at home and keep Court with her people!"

"But – but why!? I mean – it's not like there's a war going on. There aren't any battles –"

Merlin squinted at her out of one eye.

"But my falcon – "

He leaned against the dresser and turned to squint at her out of the other eye.

"And the White Stag . . ."

Merlin was unmoved.

"Fine, I'll go . . ."

At this the old wizard sighed in relief.

"You know . . ." she said, pausing at the chamber door, "I could have left that stupid sword sticking out of that damned rock. I could have left it right where I found it . . ."

"Aye, you could have, Merlin said gently. "You certainly could have . . . But you didn't, did you?"

He smiled softly, and once again, she couldn't help but smile with him.

"No, I most certainly did not. Fine, off to Court I go . . ." she sighed again, and would have gone out the door.

"Oh, Arturia", Merlin called. "Surely you aren't planning to go downstairs dressed like THAT, are you?"

A short while later a very royal and most certainly regal – but decidedly uncomfortable looking Arturia Pendragon appeared in the Great Hall of the Castle Camelot.

Around her shoulders was a velvet robe, royal blue in color, its borders edged with tufted black and white ermine fur that came up to her chin.

"For years, Tyrian Purple was the standard color", Merlin had explained. "Going all the way back to the old Empire.

'But after the Empire fell apart, it was simply too difficult and too expensive to maintain. That, and it smelled awful! The whole thing was dyed with decomposing snails! A horrible process for such a lovely color, don't you think?"

"Ugh", Saber answered, making a face.

"A number of the old historians make mention of the stench of the Imperial robes. Why it was so bad, the Hebrews even had a law that a woman was permitted to divorce her husband if he took up the profession, after they were married. Perhaps I could inform Guinivere that you're contemplating a career change – there might be hope for you yet!"

"Very funny", Arturia grumbled.

"Afterwards, on the Continent, Imperial scarlet became the new standard, but Royal Blue is an excellent choice. It's very practical. And it suits you."

At the moment, Arturia did not feel like it suited her at all. She was so swaddled up in the royal robes that she could barely move. She glanced down at the ermine fur around her neck.

"Such a pity that so many of the little things had to die – and for what? To make up the border of a King's robe? To satisfy some stupid tradition?"

But then again, she thought, how many men gave their lives for matters of borders in a King's wars?

"His Majesty, the King of Britain, Arturius Pendragon!" the Herald shouted as she strode into the Great Hall, accompanied by a hasty blast from the buglers' coronets. The sound made her turn and stare angrily.

"Oh well, he's just doing his job", she said to herself. "But just once, it might be kind of nice to walk into a room without anyone noticing again", she thought, as she clutched the royal robes around her. They may not have been comfortable, but they were heavy and thick – thick enough to conceal the petite shape of her breasts that lay bound beneath them, along with her thoughts, and all the rest of her hopes and dreams.

The ermine fur felt soft between her fingers.

"Come little ones – we might both be equally doomed – but we shall go into battle together!"

At the Herald's call, all in the Hall dropped to one knee.

"Rise!" Arturia said, gesturing with her arms.

With the King's permission, the buzz of conversation resumed. Although it was still rather early, already the Great Hall was full of guests. There were Knights and their Squires, along with pageboys and attendants, noble Ladies and their ladies in waiting, and an assorted array of bards and minstrels, as well as a few merchants and tinkers who had been admitted based on the novelty of their wares. Together they made a throng that buzzed all around her. Beyond, Saber could see the curved edge of the Round Table.

"Are you sure about this?" Merlin had asked, when she first proposed the idea. "It can be dangerous for a King to share power."

"Yes. Of all the things that I'm uncertain about, this isn't one of them."

Merlin may have been a Wizard, but in the end it was Arturia who proved to have the gift of prophecy in this matter. In a short while, the fame of the Round Table had spread throughout all of Britannia, to the neighboring countries of Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, and even to the Continent across the sea. The greatest Knights and warriors of all the lands had come from near and far to be counted among its members – some of them Kings in their own right, but when they sat around it, all were alike, for the Round Table had neither head nor foot, nor sides nor corners. When they sat down at its borders, all of them were equal.

Arturia looked at the names written above each seat in gold letters. There was a place for Sir Bedivere and Sir Ector, who were among her most trusted companions, along with Sir Bohrs, and her adoptive brother, Sir Kay. Her own name was proudly scrolled above her own seat, and not far off were the seats of Sir Gawain, one of the fiercest of their company, and Sir Gareth, who had only recently been revealed to be Gawain's younger cousin, for he had hidden his identity in order to make a name for himself with his own deeds, rather than be admitted to their company based upon the name of his family.

There was the Siege Perilous, which made all men quake, for all who sat in it met with some misfortune, and nearby, the seat of the strongest Knight of them all.

"Launcelot!" Guinivere called as the famed Knight of the Lake made his way across the hall. Turning, Arturia caught sight of a young man with flowing black hair. His locks were dark, but his expression cheerful, so that just the sight of him brought joy to everyone in the hall – especially Guinivere.

Almost everyone.

"You're here early", Gawain said, regarding the young Knight with suspicion.

"Indeed", Launcelot answered, bowing deferentially.

"It's a long ride from Du Lac to Camelot to be here first thing in the morning", Gawain pressed.

"Indeed!" Guinivere retorted. "My Lord must have ridden very hard and very fast to be here so early!"

Gawain looked like he was about to choke upon his own rage.

"Launcelot!" Arturia called, eager to break things up.

"My Liege", Launcelot answered cordially, and his voice continued to be cheerful. But his eyes would not meet hers. And when she looked at him, a dark shadow passed over his face.

As Shiro watched, another shadow descended. The sky grew gray, and his vision dark. For a moment he did not know where he was.

Gradually, he became aware of a sense of motion. He could tell that he was lying on his back, and the whole world seemed to be swaying all around him.

Outside there was murmuring – was it weeping?

He heard a gentle splash, and then a rippling, followed by the sound of falling water – and then a splash again.

It was the sound of an oar moving in the water.

"A boat . . ." Shiro said, suddenly making sense of the way the world was moving all around him.

Opening his eyes, he could see Saber lying propped against one of the bulwarks. A grievous wound was in her chest, while black blood streamed from the corner of her mouth.

"Saber!" he shouted, taking hold of her hand, but it was no use. She could neither see nor hear him.

It was as if he were a ghost.

Outside, Merlin was berating someone.

"You FOOL ! Why didn't you act sooner!? Her wound is already growing cold . . ."

Looking out from behind a white curtain, Shiro could see the shore as it moved away from them, slowly getting lost in a white haze.

On the other side was an island, its terraced slopes verdant and green. A tall tower rose from its midst.

With each stroke of the oars, the tower grew steadily closer and closer.

"Hahnn . . ."

Saber called, making Shiro run to her side again.

"Guin . . . Guin . . . I'm – so sorry, Guin . . ."

Shiro took hold of her hand, and pressed it.

"I'm here Saber – I'm here", he said, though he doubted she could hear him.

"And Lance – my old friend . . . what's wrong with me? I can't feel anything – I can't feel anything at all. Even back then, I could never feel anything . . . The only one I've ever felt anything for – anything at all – was him . . ."

With those words, the whole vision dissolved like a spell, disappearing into a black and white swirl that then resolved into the grey light of morning.

Shiro was in his room, in his futon, his hand outstretched, still able to feel Saber's fingers between his own.

"Hrmm . . ." he sighed, sitting up in his bed. "Such a strange dream . . . But still . . . I wonder who it was that Saber was in love with?

When Shiro emerged from his room, he was greeted by a pleasant smell, along with a sizzling sound that filled the hallway. By the time he got to the kitchen, he could see that Sakura already had breakfast well underway.

"Oh! Sakura! You didn't have to –"

"It's fine, Sempai. I don't mind – "

"I know that, but –"

"Really, it's fine. You're always taking care of everyone else. And Tohsaka-sempai works so hard devising such clever plans. And Illya is still recovering. This is about the only thing that I can do, so please, let me do what I can."

Put that way, he felt like he had no other choice, and so Shiro rather sheepishly took a seat at his own table.

Saber had already come down.

"Of course she'd be early when food is involved", he thought to himself. He wondered if Saber had had the same dream. If she did, it clearly had no effect on her appetite. She'd already finished off one bowl of miso soup and was working on a second, along with a steaming bowl of rice.

No doubt if she was asked she would have had some very practical reason for why she had started early, without waiting for the main course, or anyone else.

"In battle one can be attacked at any moment, and so we must eat whenever we can – procrastination is the enemy", she would have said, or something like it – but Shiro knew that the real reason was that she just liked to eat, and wasn't about to miss an opportunity.

Still, seeing her sitting there, piling it away as usual, he couldn't help but smile.

"At least SOME things are still normal around here . . ."

Rin was also present. She was already fully dressed, and had tied up her hair, which as the host made him feel very self-conscious about his own pajamas.

Illya sat opposite her. The large bandage on her left arm was gone, replaced by two passes of lightly wrapped gauze that loosely covered the back of her hand, with its Command Seals. Seeing it, Rin scowled.

"Though still, I guess this is progress", she thought, as Sakura set down three more bowls of miso soup and steamed rice, then momentarily excused herself.

All in all, it was a rather gloomy morning, and they had slept so late that already it was threatening to become afternoon. But the rice was soft and the soup was warm, so that in the end, Shiro could not help but be cheered by it.

Returning to the kitchen, Sakura took up the blue apron that Shiro usually wore, and draped it over her neck. Seeing her hands upon the strings, he suddenly remembered.

"Sakura, wait!" Shiro shouted, jumping up with a suddenness that made them all start as he went dashing off to his room.

He returned again holding a plastic bag with a small package.

"I – I'm sorry – I got this before everything started, but with all that's been going on, until now I totally forgot", he said, handing the bag to Sakura, who took it questioningly.

"I probably should have wrapped it . . ."

Sakura looked at the bag while Saber, Rin, and Illya all leaned in close, straining to see.

Inside was a new apron.

"Such a pretty shade of purple – " Illya said sharply.

Sakura recoiled.

"But Sempai – I – I like this one just fine, so –" she said, clinging to the blue apron defensively.

"But you're over here so much, and I'm sure the last thing a girl would want is to wear some guy's sweaty apron.

Sakura blushed as Rin, Illya, and Saber all stared daggers at her.

"Consider it a present. To celebrate your graduation."

"My – graduation?"

"Yes – from the Shiro Emiya school of cooking. Really, you've gotten so good, I don't think there's anything more I can teach you –"

"Sempai – I – "

"I'll be the judge of that!" Saber shouted, banging her hand on the table, making them all laugh.

And so, for the moment, all out war was averted.

The other girls' murderous glares aside, the breakfast – or was it lunch? At this hour, it was hard to tell – that Sakura set before them truly was impressive. Along with the steamed rice and hot miso soup that served as a kind of appetizer (though there was still plenty left for seconds – or in Saber's case, even thirds) – there was also bacon, rolled egg omelets, salad, and grilled fish.

Just the sight of it, not to mention the smell, was enough to lift Shiro's spirits. Thankfully it seemed to have the same effect on the rest of the group as well.

"For all that's happened, we still don't have any idea who the other Masters are – much less their Servants", Rin lamented, gesturing with her chopsticks in a moment of uncharacteristic impoliteness. Such rude table manners were unlike her, but it made Shiro glad to see her so animated, and once again taking an interest in their plans.

"At least we've seen Assassin", Illya offered helpfully, hoping her brief deception would no longer be remembered. The gambit worked.

"That's true", Rin agreed, reaching for a piece of the rolled omelet. "He's clearly a Hasan, but then that's to be expected – oh wow! These really are good!"

Sakura bowed deferentially.

"Why is that to be expected?" Shiro asked, taking advantage of the momentary pause while Rin finished chewing and updating her mental notes to treat Sakura as a more formidable opponent.

"The last Grail War with Sasaki Kojirou was something of an anomaly", Rin explained once she'd finished taking a sip of her juice. "Normally the Assassin is almost always one of the Hasans. Their order, the Hashashin, is where the term assassin originated, and their clan ran for generations, so it's practically guaranteed that they will participate."

"I see . . ." Shiro said thoughtfully. "I guess there's still so much I don't know even now about the Holy Grail War."

"All of the great families have been accounted for. And to Illya's point, we've seen Assassin. That just leaves Lancer and Caster."

"Do you think the other Masters were chosen at random?" Illya asked.

Rin shook her head.

"I doubt it. In the last war, everyone thought Shiro was just some sort of wild card – even me. But it turned out that he had very good reasons for being allowed to become a Master. No – it may not be obvious now, but there'll be some connection – I'm sure of it. It's just a matter of finding it out."

"Hmm, someone with connections to the previous Grail War . . ." Shiro thought. "What about Shinji? He fought in the last war, as a Master –"

"There is no way that Shinji could possibly be a Master", Sakura said. Her voice was sudden, and filled with a surprising sharpness. "He has no magic at all. During the last war, a magical artifact was used to give him the ability to temporarily control a Servant. He himself did not have a Command Seal. In the end, he never really was a Master."

Rin and Shiro exchanged a look.

"Well, that pretty much rules out everyone at school", Shiro said. "At this point, I don't know what else to do, short of just wandering around town and hoping we run into something."

"That's actually not far off from what I had in mind", Rin said, smiling haughtily as Shiro stared at her in disbelief. "It isn't very efficient, but what other choice do we have? And besides, we do still have a couple of advantages in this respect."

Rin paused, making Illya, Shiro, and Sakura lean in close, enjoying every moment of their suspense, while Saber took advantage of the occasion to sneak another omelet.

"Archer can see for a very great distance", she said, taking a sip of her tea. "It's one of the benefits of his class. He can practically see from one side of the town to the other, and still with enough detail to count the rivets in the side of every building.

'Given his talents, I suspect that Kiritsugu would have a similar ability. Illya, do you think you could manage it?"

"Father can't really talk, but we can communicate, and his senses are sharp. I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"Good. Somewhere like Fuyuki Bridge would be ideal. That should give a good view of the entire surrounding area. Meanwhile, I'll take Archer up to the top of Fuyuki Tower, and have a look around."

"I can take Rider, and we can use her chains to climb up to the top of the Neo Fuyuki Tower in the next neighborhood over", Sakura offered. "We should be able to see just about anything from up there, and if anyone gets into trouble, we can rush to help."

"Excellent! Sakura, I'm impressed. You and Rider go to the top of the new tower, then. That should give us excellent coverage."

"Hai!"

"That just leaves Saber and Shiro –"

"I'm afraid I won't be much help with this", Saber said a bit sheepishly.

"Nonsense. Our job is to identify the enemy and their Servants. You just be ready when the time comes. In the meantime, you could always accompany one of us. I was thinking –"

"I could go along with Illya, since she's still recovering!", Shiro volunteered helpfully.

Rin frowned.

"I'm sure Illya will be just fine. On second thought, I have another idea. During the last war, Shiro helped me identify the locations of a barrier that Rider had put up at school. He was actually very good at it –"

Shiro beamed at the compliment.

"- he gets very queasy whenever anything like that is near. It's a rare gift. Saber, why don't you take Shiro into town, and have a look around. Whenever he starts to feel ill, just dunk him in a nearby fountain, and then note the location and report back –"

"Hey!"

"Don't worry Shiro", Saber said reassuringly. "I actually got terribly sick the first time I learned to ride a horse. All of the bouncing didn't agree with me. You've got nothing to be embarrassed of."

Shiro made a long face.

"Thanks – I think . . ."

"Well", Rin smiled, "we've all got our marching orders. For now, there's nothing more to do than to wait until it gets dark."

Issei stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to pretend he could still recognize the person who stared back at him.

"How does one dress for such a thing as a Holy Grail War?", he wondered.

The black figure who stared back at him did not answer.

At first he had thought he would wear a priest's robe, and even tried one on that belonged to his father, but now, seeing his reflection, that all seemed much too silly, as if he were trying to be some sort of superhero.

"Now all I need is a cape", he thought, holding up the priest's staff, and shaking it so that its rings jingled.

He remembered hearing somewhere that on the path to enlightenment, a monk could sometimes gain supernatural powers. This was considered a grave danger, and the initiated had to be very careful not to get distracted, and be misled from their true calling.

Issei highly doubted that he was in any such peril. He certainly hadn't developed any magical abilities, and besides, he wasn't a real priest anyway. But it did raise the question.

"How does one fight in a Holy Grail War?" he wondered.

He didn't have a black belt, but he knew a bit Ryudo-ryu, the art that some of the monks practiced, and swore was a closely guarded secret of the Ryudo Temple – though Issei thought it looked suspiciously like modern day karate. He knew how to punch, and how to kick, and how to throw someone over his shoulder as in judo – but that was about it. If they were seriously attacked, he had no earthly idea what he should do. Were things like punching and kicking even applicable in a Holy Grail War? Perhaps he should wear some hakama pants.

His high school uniform seemed out of the question. He'd worn it all day, and besides, he didn't want to risk being recognized, and possibly bringing shame upon his school, or his family.

The thought of going in disguise, like some sort of character from a bad high school manga not wanting to be recognized by a rival school seemed comical. And the idea of himself as a thug or delinquent was even more laughable, to the point that he actually laughed out loud.

"Maybe I should bleach my hair while I'm at it", he chuckled.

But still that left him with no idea of what to wear.

In the end, he decided on a black neru shirt with a standing collar, and a simple pair of black slacks – only to realize that this looked woefully like a cross between his normal high school uniform and a priest's dismal robes.

"Man, I have no life at all", he thought as he shut the door behind him, and made his way out onto the lawn.

Outside, Caster was busy with another of her magical devices. This one consisted of several sets of uprights, arranged in a row like a series of goal posts for American football. Each was connected by a cable that ran to a central machine that Caster was fussing over, tinkering with one of its adjustments.

This was the part that he'd been dreading the most.

"What do you mean, formed an alliance!?" Caster shouted, just in time for Shinji to hear her as he puffed his way up the temple steps.

He wasn't used to them, and he'd found the last stretch particularly exhausting, so that he doubled over, and fought to remain standing. As he stood panting, Issei took note of his clothes – a pair of jeans with a long sleeved collared shirt, and over them a simple jacket – decidedly pedestrian and unmysterious.

Caster continued her tirade.

"What the HELL were you thinking, entering into such an agreement – and without consulting ME!?"

"I – I just thought it would be good to have allies", Issei said, desperately trying to defuse the situation.

"Allies! YOU FOOL – in this type of war there ARE no allies! Only enemies and MORE ENEMIES!"

"I'm sorry, I – "

But Caster put up her hand and would not hear him.

"You want to do things on your own? FINE! But don't you come crawling back to ME when you run into another Master who actually has some IDEA of what they're doing, and you get yourself KILLED!"

Issei tried to entreat her further, but she would have none of it. In the end, there was nothing more he could do, other than look at Shinji apologetically, then turn and hurry down the temple steps.

"Don't you think you're being just a little bit hard on him?" Lancer asked, as Caster furiously adjusted the levers and dials of her machine. "Sometimes a young man wants to go off and try to show he's capable of doing things on his own – especially when he damn well knows he can't do ANYTHING on his own . . ."

"He's being a FOOL!" Caster said obstinately.

"Aye, he is. But aren't you the least bit worried about him?"

Caster sighed.

"I'll send my golems", she said, without looking up. "They can keep an eye on him. That should be enough to keep him out of trouble, and they can alert me if anything serious happens. I trust you'll be able to defend us while they're away?"

For an answer, Lancer twirled his spear, enjoying the breeze the blade made as it whirled past his shoulder.

"I'd welcome a fight. I'm getting tired of all this standin' around."

Caster smiled.

"Very well. Let's get back to work then", she said, turning once again to the strange contraption she'd set up.

"Are you sure you want me to use it? A Servant can only use their Noble Phantasm so many times, you know?"

"Hmph! Nonsense – Command Seals are limited. But I'm not giving you an order. I'm merely asking – as your Master – if you would help test it for me. If it's a question of magical power, you needn't worry – with ME as your Master, you can have as much power as you like! Why, if need be, I'll drain all of the magical energy in this city! Every man, woman, and child!"

"Pah – you aren't as bad as all that. I remember the last war – for all your talk, and settin' up a barrier, in the end, you didn't actually KILL anybody. You may act all mean and tough, but you're not evil."

Caster smirked.

"Don't misunderstand me. Fate, it would seem, has once again destined me to play a villain – and so I shall be a most damnable villain – but that doesn't mean I have to be wretched or vile. So then", she said, holding up her left hand as her Command Seals glowed.

"Very well, Master. As you wish."

And with that, Lancer hefted his spear. Drawing it back, he stretched out his other hand with a balance and grace not even an Olympic athlete could match.

"G – A – Y - E –"

He shouted, a ball of red light forming around the head of the spear, as it drew in all of the magic energy from the surrounding area.

Lancer took two quick steps.

" – B – O – L – G !"

And with that he hurled the spear.

Its flight was true, passing in a straight line through each of the uprights. The red streak issued forth from the top of the mountain, then shot out, over the town, and beyond – out over the sea.

"AMAZING!" Caster shouted, looking at the sheet of parchment that shot out from the side of the machine. "So this is a Noble Phantasm's power!"

Lancer made a small bow.

Overhead, the stars twinkled as the red light dissipated, and the rumble of its thunder faded into the distance.

Lancer waited a moment more, then held out his arm.

From afar, there came a whirling sound. All around them, the air seemed to exhale in a gentle breeze. And then that breeze became a mighty wind. Amidst the rushing, the red spear could be seen, clattering as it came twirling towards him, until it struck Lancer's palm, where his grip held it fast. For this was among the spear's abilities – first, that when it was thrown, it could not fail to find its target, and second, that even as a Servant is bound to obey its Master, so too the legendary spear could not fail but return to its Master's hand.

"Hmm, interesting . . ." Caster said, pouring over the readouts. "Very interesting. But it's still not enough. We're going to need more power . . ."

Sakura looked out from her place on the roof of the Neo Fuyuki Tower. Her Servant, Rider, didn't have the gift of supernatural sight like Archer or Kiritsugu, and her own magic was of a different sort, so she'd resorted to buying a pair of binoculars from a nearby store.

She'd asked for something small and discrete that would fit in her purse.

"Oh, are you going on a date? It must be a very special show!"

"Hai."

It wasn't entirely untrue. But the show that she was planning on watching was of a decidedly different nature.

"These are very popular for an opera, or the theatre. They have ruby lenses."

The clerk's comments made her think of Rider's own red eyes, hidden behind her mask. There was a bookstore nearby, which Rider seemed to have some awareness of, and perhaps even an attachment to. Sakura had followed her gaze, noting her interest, and offered that they could pay it a visit, but she had declined.

The thought of her Servant having this little secret made Sakura smile, and she found the idea that she had some sort of life outside of their pact pleasing to her.

"Would you like to have a look?" she asked, holding up the binoculars in her direction.

"No thank you, my Lady", Rider answered, putting her hand over her chest and bowing formally.

Perhaps it was for the best. The thought of Rider holding the binoculars up to her mask seemed ridiculous. For that matter, she had no idea what the world for Rider looked like. Could she see color? Shapes? Perhaps she could see right through the mask. Or perhaps she couldn't see at all. Maybe she did everything by sound, and had an exceptional sense of hearing. Sakura had never thought to ask, and it seemed rude to ask now.

Her own eyes had a dull cast to them – lifeless and hollow – though they brightened when Shiro was around – a fact she secretly hoped he would notice, though one she fought to conceal.

"Someone who sees without seeing", she thought to herself, "and someone who pretends not to see at all."

The ruby lenses weren't as good as Archer's abilities, or the scope of Kiritsugu's rifle, but they did the trick. From her place on the rooftop, she could clearly see the edge of the old, original Fuyuki tower, with its red signal light blinking. The new tower had been built as a broadcast station to anchor the surrounding neighborhood. It was a very up and coming sort of place, full of shops and restaurants and corner bars and apartments – all very trendy and desirable to younger people. It was also a popular destination for couples.

Word had it that if someone confessed their love to you on a date to the tower – especially on Christmas Eve or New Year's – that your future happiness was virtually guaranteed.

To date, Sakura had received no such proposals.

Not that it really mattered. In the end, the Neo Fuyuki Tower was kind of pointless. The old tower already had its own TV channel, with a broadcast station and a radio antennae. And it was already full of offices and apartments and shops and restaurants and date spots. Everything the new tower could do, the old tower could do just fine on its own. In the end, the new tower was useless.

But then again, Sakura didn't work in an office. She didn't have a job, and she couldn't afford an apartment. She never went to restaurants, she rarely went shopping, and she hardly watched TV. And no one ever asked her out on a date. In the end, the old Fuyuki Tower was just as useless, too.

Sakura trained her binoculars away from the old tower, and out onto Fuyuki Bridge, whose graceful red archways made several broad sweeps out across the water, and on to Fuyuki Island. It made an excellent vantage point to watch anyone coming or going to or from the city, and she wondered if Illya was having any success there.

Off to the left was Fuyuki International Airport, which had been built right on the water using another small island that had been widened with land reclaimed from the sea. She watched the planes taking off and landing, and wondered if it made the passengers nervous to be touching down and lifting off right over the water.

To the right was the harbor district, full of barges and container ships along with truck yards and rail lines and warehouses and docks – all of the ugly machinery of industry. Out in the middle of the water, one small ship sat on its own.

Focusing the lenses, she could see the deck was lined with row upon row of strange containers and tubes. What were they? They looked like some kind of ordinance – mortars, or guide rails for missiles. Was someone about to launch an attack?

Several men patrolled the deck. They had a very official air about them, judging from their manner, and the insignia of their uniforms. A few of them wore badges, while one of the other men had a suit coat, and was gesturing to the others, explaining something. The whole thing made her uneasy, but they seemed far too relaxed to be investigating a bomb threat.

She was about to motion to Rider, when suddenly she remembered something she'd heard on the television while Shiro was making dinner. It had been announced that the New Year's Fuyuki Festival had been pushed back several weeks, and along with it the yearly fireworks display. The men on the deck of the ship were no doubt firemen, performing some sort of safety inspection, and the contents of the strange packages and tubes must have been the fireworks that were being set up for the show.

Sakura could remember hearing the story, but they never said why the festival had been delayed. Was it the Grail? She remembered how last year, during the previous Grail War, there had been a series of gas leaks, and other strange events around town. Perhaps this was something similar? Or perhaps the festival had been delayed for some simpler, more mundane reason.

Overhead, the stars twinkled above, while the city lights twinkled beneath. From a distance, they both looked alike, and equally beautiful. At this height it was impossible to see their innate human ugliness.

Sakura lowered the binoculars from her eyes. She took the cloth that had come with them, and wiped their lenses, then replaced their covers, before placing them back in their case, which she tucked into the corner of her bag.

Turning, she made her way over to the center of the roof, where she paused beside the door.

"Are we leaving our post so soon, my Lady?" Rider asked, making her smile at her politeness.

"Come on, Rider", Sakura said. "There's something I need to do."