Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate franchise it belongs to Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon.
Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi
Chapter 16: L'Imperatore (Part II)
Einzbern homunculi stormed the Vasnetsov keep in the Ukraine's Kharkov region, halberds flashing as the homunculi charged into battle. Vasnetsov combat-thralls met them head on, the tortured creatures clad only in dark-colored trousers, their heads shaved and branded with serial numbers of some kind.
Their eyes were crazed and frantic, as were their movements, and yet they made no sound, their mouths silent even as they opened as though to scream. Tumor-like growths sprouted from their torsos at random, with one massive cyst sporting an unblinking eye and linked by throbbing veins to the other tumors. The thralls' skin was also like leather, woven through with profoundly-ancient mysteries. So much so, that the Einzbern homunculi found their halberds no different from ordinary halberds against these creatures.
An unpleasant surprise, considering how they would usually just tear through such corpse-puppets like hot knives going through butter.
And then like the fleshy machines that they were, the minds of the homunculi quickly discarded their surprise as irrelevant. Reverting to preprogrammed directives, the homunculi simply fought, regardless of such a setback, grimly hacking away at the tide of flesh the Vasnetsov hurled at them, and to break through and fulfil the tactical plan.
It wasn't just the combat-thralls' skins that were augmented, though. Their torture-drawn flesh gave them a wiry physique that closed the gap with the superhuman physiques that Einzbern homunculi possessed. The latter were still stronger, but not by much, and in terms of agility, they were unexpectedly equal.
Again, the Einzbern homunculi spent only a bare minimum of time pondering such a surprise, before discarding it as irrelevant.
The same went for when several of the Vasnetsov combat-thralls began to literally vomit on their opponents. For the first time since the battle began, Einzbern homunculi screamed as their flesh sloughed off their bones, though their alchemically-forged weapons remained unaffected.
But as the stalemate in the entrance hall prolonged, with blood and corpses piling up, something had to give.
Illya finally joined the battle, and it was like watching a freight train plowing through snow. Moving so fast as to appear as nothing more than a shimmer to ordinary Human eyes, and yet with innate grace, she cleared the entrance hall in a matter of seconds, her twin falchions simply shearing through magic-infused flesh like it wasn't even there, and as Illya carved the combat-thralls apart, their corrupt flesh ignited into golden flames that quickly turned them to ash.
Realizing the danger, four members of the Vasnetsov family descended on Illya at the far end of the entrance hall. At first glance they appeared to be Human, but even then, it was clear something was not quite right. They were far too pale for one thing, and while their complete lack of hair wasn't particularly abnormal, their opaque black eyes were completely inhuman.
The armor they wore too was more of the same, made from segmented black plates of chitin that seemed to be fused to their bodies. That, or they grew from their bodies. Illya didn't have much more time to contemplate their appearance, though, the centi-seconds spent on it already too much. Prana crackled in crimson arcs over the Vasnetsovs' bodies, and then they lashed out at her.
In an instant, arcano-shielding came to life around Illya, conforming to the curves of her body. The Vasnetsovs' vampiric perversion of Absorption Magecraft scrambled vainly over Illya's arcano-shielding, fruitlessly seeking to find a hold, to break through, and leach at her very life. In places, though, the curved contours of her arcano-shielding caused the vampiric energies to skitter off and away, stroking at the closest homunculi.
They fell without a word, reduced to mummified husks as all life was stolen from them, down to the mitochondrial energies that powered their very cells.
Illya roared in rage at such undignified deaths for her brother and sister homunculi. Lesser they might have been, but they were still Einzbern. They were still family.
The Vasnetsov struggled to keep up with Illya's speed, blades made from mutated bone clashing against alchemically-forged metal. Hissing as she parried and dodged, Illya poured her power into her swords, and lashed out in a spiral of light.
Mutated bone ceased to be, while the lacerated bodies of three of the Vasnetsov burned with golden flames as they fell. The last of the Vasnetsov who'd faced Illya narrowly avoided death, instead fleeing while discarding its façade of Humanity, the giant, man-sized worm simply burrowing through the floor and into the ground.
Illya refused to let it get away. Ripping several strands of her hair free, she transmuted them into a hook and line, and casting it after the fleeing worm, pulled it out of the Earth.
"Now your appearance matches the monster you have always been." She sneered as the gigantic worm wriggled and oozed in the air before her. Then stabbing it with one of her falchions, the worm screamed as it burned down to its very soul.
"ADVANCE!" Illya barked, flourishing her falchions and leading the way to the Vasnetsovs' great hall.
"My lady, is this wise?" Leysritt asked as Illya centered herself in the great hall.
"Probably not," Illya said. "But if our intelligence is correct, then the Vasnetsov are the most successful of Makiri Zolgen's maternal descendants. The ones closest to achieving the end he passed down to them."
"So you will throw down the gauntlet, and force Vasnetsov to reveal their hand." Leysritt said.
"And once revealed it can be destroyed." Illya said with a nod. "Prepare, Leysritt. I would not be surprised if the rest of the Vasnetsov family went all in as well. Take command, and kill everything on the ground while I deal with the pinnacle of Vasnetsov's magecraft."
"Yes, my lady." Leysritt said with a bow, and stepping back and away, to a safe distance.
Illya nodded, and then briefly closing her eyes, steadied her breathing. Then she began to glow, even as a mandala appeared around her feet, that if witnessed by those of the Mages Association, would have most sinking to their knees.
How could they not?
It was the mandala of the Third True Magic: Heaven's Feel.
I am one who bears witness,
Normally, Einzbern magi did not have to cast arias to actualize most of their mysteries, but for the most profound ones, an aria was still needed, if only to maximize the potential of success.
I am one who call the World to bear witness,
As one returns in fire, ruin, and death,
To behold the bloodthirsty goddess of war,
Brynhildr!
The mandala flared bright, and then igniting, sent a lance of blinding light up and around Illya, completely enveloping her even as it simply burned through the Vasnetsov keep's great hall's ceiling and roof, to stab high into the sky. And inside the light, Illya struggled to not lose herself, her entire being agony as her very existence was brought into question.
And deep beneath the keep, the Vasnetsov knew their hand was forced, and unsealed their greatest creation.
Equivalent exchange: something is sacrificed to obtain something else of equal value.
This is a basic principle of magecraft. It, more than anything, demonstrates how magecraft is ultimately nothing more than technology's dark mirror.
Illya had been the Lesser Grail for too long. Her mind, body, and soul too bent in its direction to survive the vessel being removed from her being. But neither could she survive with the vessel within her being, any more than Jubstacheit von Einzbern wanted to see his greatest creation wither away and die with nothing to show for it.
So he did not simply remove the Lesser Grail. He replaced it, with something taken from the deepest vaults of Einzbern Castle, dating back to when the Third Magician still walked the Earth, and Jubstacheit little more than their lowly assistant.
A lance, burnt and melted as though by incredible heat, and yet overflowing with conceptual power.
So much so, that only Jubstacheit himself could safely handle it. Every other homunculus who came into its presence simply went mad, or just died, their minds and bodies simply unable to handle the power leaking out from the damaged divine artefact.
And then taking knowledge from the most secret archives of Einzbern Castle, along with Illya's own inherited memories from the last wielder of Heaven's Feel, Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, they had repaired the lance, fusing/chaining/locking it and everything it possessed away into a single mortal soul.
Illya's own soul. And now, by her authority as Knight-Champion of Einzbern, she loosened those chains, seeking to wield the power of a dead divinity as a weapon against an enemy possessed of the power of a prince of demons.
And as the chains loosened, they flooded into her. Memories…her/not-her memories…
…escorting the souls of the honored dead to Valhalla…
…Odin's prophecy of a great hero coming to wake her from a punishment she justly deserved…
…waking as a mortal woman to know love at first sight…
…then betrayal such that the heart could barely bear…
…Returning to crimson flames…
NO!
Illya struggled to hold onto herself, feeling her flesh and soul alike burning away, forcing them to be, to remain Illya, and holding the chains tight, wield the fire locked away within with her own hands.
I AM ILLYASVIEL VON EINZBERN! KNIGHT-CHAMPION OF EINZBERN! KEEPER OF HEAVEN'S FEEL! WARDEN OF THE BLACK FOREST! AND I WILL REMAIN ILLYASVIEL VON EINZBERN!
In that instant, the flames slackened, flesh paradoxically remade as the soul remained as it was, holding onto chains forged by mysteries stolen from a god beyond the sky, and focusing the flames from within into a white-hot blade held in Illya's own hands.
She opened her eyes, looking out onto the world through Brynhildr's eyes, and saw Leysritt forced to her knees by a void in reality.
Brandishing her spear, Illya-Brynhildr leapt into battle.
The Salvation Engine was the pinnacle of Vasnetsov's work on the theories left to them by the maternal ancestor, Makiri Zolgen.
Based on the Absorption concept, it took the souls offered or bound to it, pulling them out of time and into a state of existence lacking pain, want, need, or indeed, any of the countless ills that plagued the Human condition.
It was wonderful. It was fantastic.
It was a dream of utopia, a microcosmic vision of a world without suffering.
It was monstrous.
Illya-Brynhildr looked at with mortally-divine/divinely-Human eyes, and beheld only a hole in reality. A parasite that fed off of the souls inside of it, leaching them away into nothing while lulling them into a sense of contentment with an illusion of idyllic serenity.
Leaping forward, she pivoted on her feet and agilely danced through the swirling maze of the parasite's tentacles, before sweeping her lance out in a blow that should have bisected the parasite clean through. Instead, the parasite seemed to fold from the force of the blow, as though it were made from some kind of elastic material, for all that it still went flying from the force of her blow.
And then they were around her, leaping at her from multiple directions, the magi of the Vasnetsov family. In a single nanosecond, Illya-Brynhildr idly mused on how…ironic, it was, that the male line of Makiri Zolgen had withered away, while the female line had managed to assume their patriarch's twisted vision in every way possible.
Blades made from mutated bone glimmered with necrotic light, as did feeder-tendrils aiming to puncture her flesh and suck her dry. Pincer claws snapped with enough force to crush steel while crackling with vampiric energies.
And in the next nanosecond, Illya-Brynhildr swept out with her lance, seven full rotations cutting the Vasnetsov magi into burning ribbons. Then pivoting and dancing back, she avoided the parasite's counterattack, her lance sweeping out in glowing arcs to cut at the parasite's tentacles.
It severed them with ease, and yet it was for naught, for even as the severed tentacles boiled away into smoke like nightmares did on waking, the severed stumps quickly regrew. Illya-Brynhildr growled low in her throat, backing away while smoothing dancing around the parasite's attempts to ensnare her. And then reaching out with a finger, wrote down a sequence of runes in light on the air.
Blinding light flooded the Vasnetsov keep, turning combat-thralls and other flesh-puppets into charred skeletons. The Vasnetsov magi too close to the great hall suffered similarly, while those further away found themselves ablaze with golden fire that burned not just their flesh but scoured their souls agonizingly. Many threw themselves on the blades of the Einzbern homunculi in the hopes of death freeing them from such soul-scouring pain, while others fled, bursting out of windows and other exits to try and escape the swift and just retribution passed down on them.
The only ones of the Vasnetsov family spared were the children, and even then, the Valkyrie's divine judgment did not leave them unmarked. Their magic circuits were burnt-out, leaving them afflicted with various nervous disorders, while their souls were scoured clean, the touch of the ancestral Zolgen mysteries which went back to the Demon Prince Barbatos purged away with holy fire. Each and every last one of them was left blind, their minds bent and left filled with awe, respect, and fear of that which had touched them on this night.
And still the battle between the parasite and the Valkyrie continued, the former fleeing through the roof of the ruined great hall, flames burning along its contours, even as Illya-Brynhildr followed. The parasite moved as though it were a gelatinous mass, almost like a jellyfish even, expanding and contracting in repeated sequences as though to swim through the stuff of reality itself.
Then coming down hard, she landed on the parasite, slamming it against the ground with such force as to displace all the soil down to the bedrock, and cracking even that, left a crater several meters deep. Then she jumped up, spinning through the air with impossible grace, avoiding the parasite's tentacles while cutting them up into a haze of smoke.
And still the parasite came at her, now throwing half-formed thoughts through the ether at her.
…love…
…family…
…betrayal…
…death…
…Sigurd…
…Kiritsugu…
…Shirou…
The thoughts caused Illya-Brynhildr to stumble, but it was enough. In the next instant, the parasite's tentacles had bound her tight, and pulling her in, swept her into its maw.
Then a roar of spectral pain echoed through the ether, as Illya-Brynhildr pulled – tore – an arm free wreathed in fire, and then clenching her fist, pummeled the parasite up close. Once, twice, three times she landed her fist into its unreal form, and caused it to let go, allowing her to escape and reopen the distance.
"Time to finish this." Illya-Brynhildr thought while summoning her lance to her hands, and flourishing it while settling into a stance, prana building around her weapon with blazing light. The parasite also seemed to have similar thoughts, pulling itself together and swelling up as though to throw itself against her, engulfing her with all its un-mass and so consume her once and for all.
Then they threw themselves at each other, Illya-Brynhildr raising her lance to pierce the monster before her, while the parasite simply ballooned out and around, the better to engulf her all at once. "Brynhildr…" she began.
…an ice-faced man with silvery hair and piercing blue eyes…
…a worn-looking man with dark hair and eyes…
…an eager and fresh-faced boy with golden eyes and red hair…
…he holds out a hand with a smile…
…Brynhildr/Illya…
…let's go home…
"…KOMEDIA!"
A dead goddess from a bygone age returned to the World by mysteries born of a power taken from beyond the World met the pinnacle of a mystery thousands of years in the making and dating back to one of the King of Mages' court.
There was no contest.
The parasite's broken remains burned to ash as they blew away on the wind, screams filling the ether for an instant and an eternity before fading away into the silence of a void from which there was no return, as the souls consumed by the parasite were immolated. Salvation through destruction, absolution through annihilation, such was the Valkyrie's mercy.
"It'll take more than that to deceive me, parasite." Illya and Brynhildr said as one, holding her lance at rest.
And then closing her eyes, Illya tightened the chains, the dead goddess returning to her rest. Then with a cry of pain, Illya fell to her knees, burns appearing over her suddenly-emaciated frame, her lance disappearing as the power it was made from was sealed away once more.
"Prepare the regeneration capsule," Leysritt said as she hurried over, accompanied by dozens of other homunculi. "This is priority one!"
"We've received a new report from our regional monitor at Kiev." One of several magi said, sitting around a table in a windowless room in the Clock Tower. "Apparently Einzbern's struck again, this time exterminating the Vasnetsov family."
"Again?"
"Another one?"
"That's the fifth family they've slaughtered in three months."
"What of the crest? Was it destroyed as well?"
"From what our agents in the Ukraine discovered," the man who had the report from Kiev began. "So it would seem."
"This is getting out of hand." Another magus said. "No matter what…grudges, Einzbern might have against the descendants of the Zolgen lineage of magi, they cannot be allowed to just rampage freely and exterminate magi in good standing left and right simply because!"
"Or destroying crests, for that matter." A fellow magus agreed with a nod. "Perhaps if the crests were preserved, there might be room for allowances to be made, but this? Completely obliterating ancient legacies that predate the Renaissance for some petty grudge in recent years? Einzbern must be brought to heel, and soon!"
"I am in full agreement."
"As am I."
"I second that motion."
Eyes turned to a man in the uniform of the College of Law, the badge of the Barthomeloi family pinned to his chest, and who had stayed silent in the discussion thus far. The man met their gazes evenly.
"What is Her Excellency's opinion on this matter?" one of the magi around the table asked. Unspoken was the assumption that the College of Law, and by extension, the Supreme Magus of the Modern Era was already aware of the ongoing war between Einzbern and Zolgen being fought in the shadows under the Moon across Eastern Europe.
"To quote," the Barthomeloi representative began with a firm tone. "Her Excellency sees no reason why the College of Law should expend time, effort, and resources better allocated to other, worthier pursuits in order to save a Dead Apostle's bloodline."
"WHAT?" the shocked response came from around the table.
"Furthermore," the Barthomeloi representative continued. "Her Excellency expresses great disappointment that other esteemed peers of the Clock Tower would be so short-sighted as to desire to come to the aid of such…disgraces."
"B-but…" one of the other magi stammered out. "…we just…those families are also…"
The Barthomeloi representative briefly closed his eyes, and then gathering his few things, rose from his seat. "Her Excellency's decision on this issue is final, and will not be revisited." He said. "The College of Law sees no reason to interfere in Einzbern's righteous crusade against the accursed Zolgen bloodline. I take my leave."
The man gave a curt bow, and then left the rest of committee in stunned silence.
"Did you hear the news, brother?" Reines asked as she languidly and coquettishly stretched out on a divan, even as Waver walked in accompanied by Trimmau.
"If it's connected to Trimmau's latest…escapade," Waver fumed, refusing to put up with talk about another incident of Trimmau going on rampage as a result of her programming fault that led to her acting like a certain robotic assassin from a science fiction film. "Then I am in no mood for 'constructive criticism'!"
Reines rolled her eyes. "Then it seems you're in luck, brother." She said. "Other news from Eastern Europe seems to have eclipsed Trimmau's latest indiscretions, along with plenty of other examples of the usual gossip in the Clock Tower."
"…you're referring to Einzbern's blood feud with Makiri Zolgen's maternal descendants in Eastern Europe?" Waver asked, and sighed as Reines nodded with a smirk. "What have they done this time?"
"The Vasnetsov family is gone." Reines cheerfully said. "That's the fifth family claimed by Einzbern's blood feud in just three months, and it's got quite a lot of the other lords muttering."
"But…?" Waver prompted with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Reines cackled with schadenfreude. "It seems that while Lady Barthomeloi has finally decided to turn her attention to the issue," she began. "Her reaction thus far has been approving of Einzbern's butchery. Unsurprising, considering Makiri Zolgen was a Dead Apostle, and from what little scraps remain after Einzbern's crusaders were through, it seems his descendants are all chips off the old block."
The diminutive magus paused to cackle once again. "If the rumors are true," she said. "Then Lady Barthomeloi actually toasted Einzbern's successes, and wished them well on the rest of their campaign."
"…no comment." Waver said.
"Oh?" Reines teased. "Do you lack an opinion?"
"NO COMMENT!" Waver exploded before stomping away, not stupid enough to say anything that might get back to the Vice-Director and land him in hot water, but internally fuming at such meaningless slaughter and bloodshed.
Alone with herself, Reines cackled and let her head sink back into a pillow. "Trimmau," she said. "Get me some tea."
Trimmau bowed silently, before proceeding with the task given to her.
Soft jazz music played across the bar, forming a soothing backdrop to the low hum of conversation, the tinkling of silverware against china, and the clinking of ice and glass. Around a table, several members of the so-called El-Melloi Classroom sat together.
"So," Caules Forvedge asked the newest member of their group, a newly-arrived 'special' student recommended by none other than Wizard Marshall Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg himself. "How are you doing?"
"Better than expected," Kuchinashi said while nursing a beer. "You don't mind if I speak freely, do you?"
"By all means, go ahead." Caules said.
"Good," Kuchinashi said with a sigh. "To be honest, you all surprise me, and by that I mean not just you guys, but the whole of the El-Melloi Classroom."
"In what way?" Caules curiously asked.
Kuchinashi smirked. "Back where I come from," she said. "I had a saying: stupid magi and their stupid pride."
"…wow, that's really harsh." Caules said after a moment, though anything else he might have said was interrupted by really loud slurping from the young man next to him.
"It's not completely wrong, though." Flat Escardos said, having finished off his mango smoothie. "Most magi would do a lot of stupid things just out of pride. I mean, we're different, but that's only thanks to Professor Waver, and you all know it too."
"He's got a point there." Grey dryly agreed.
"Of course he does." Yvette L. Lehrman smugly said before gaining stars in her eyes. "I mean, this is Lord El-Melloi II we're talking about. And he's one of a kind."
"…not exactly what we were talking about, but anyway!" Caules said with a cough before trying to put a positive spin on things. "Well, I'm glad we managed to not only give you a positive impression, but also convinced you to give us all a chance."
"Hmm…well, everyone does deserve a second chance." Kuchinashi agreed, before taking her beer mug. "Here's to being a better woman, and second chances."
"I can drink to that." Caules said with only the slightest hint of confusion.
"Hear, hear." Yvette said, everyone raising their glasses to make a toast. Well, everyone except for Flat, who was frantically calling and gesturing for a waitress so he could order another shake.
"Ah, that was good." Kuchinashi said after a drink of her beer, and then smirking at Caules with just the slightest hint of teasing. It made him…uncomfortable.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Oh nothing…" Kuchinashi said with a laugh. "Just thinking, that's all."
"About what?"
"About how you managed to win my little sister's heart, that's all."
"…what?"
Kuchinashi Tachibana, also known in another time and place as Ayame Emiya and as the Black and White Magician, just laughed.
A/N
Now you know why Illya's card is the Emperor. Of course, considering Einzbern's track record (and the fact that Illya struggles to not get subsumed by Brynhildr when 'wearing' her form), it's not necessarily a good thing. We shall see.
The last POV is pretty much just filler, though. Don't take it too seriously, I just tossed it in so I could fulfill my personal tax of getting a chapter past 4000 words. In other words, don't worry about it too much.
