The chapter of July!
P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444
Beta-ed by Draconic
Chiron had seen many miraculous things in his life. He was the son of the King of the Titans after all. He'd borne witness to the beginnings of many skilled and wondrous heroes, nurturing them to their fullest capability. He'd tended to demigods and mortals alike, so long as they had the nerve. In the end, only the complete and utter agony of a hydra's venom convinced him to give up his immortality for the sake of peace. When he had been summoned into the Great Holy Grail War, he had not expected to find anything else so trying.
Which was, of course, all just a really long way of saying he had not been remotely prepared for Rider of Black.
"Chiron, is he gonna be okay? Is he? Is he?"
Chiron sighed. When Fiore had notified him that Caster was looking for a homunculus that had escaped of its own accord, he certainly had not anticipated a giddy Astolfo showing up at his door with the boy over his shoulder asking for healing. Never one to refuse a patient, Chiron had allowed them in, though he found his patience slightly tested by Rider's pestering. The paladin's concern for the homunculus boy was touching and spoke well of his quality as a hero, but his endless buzzing about was not helpful in the least.
"His condition is… stable, Rider" Chiron informed him.
Astolfo slowed down, still and focused on the sickly boy lying in Chiron's bed. His lip quivered in worry. "You paused in the middle there," he observed. "Is there still something wrong with him?"
"It is not as simple a matter as something being wrong," Chiron explained. "His flesh wounds were simple enough to heal, but the simple fact is that his body isn't used to such strain. Add to that his overuse of his magic circuits, and it is surprising that fatigue was the only thing he suffered."
Lord Gordes had created the Yggdmillennia homunculi to act as prana batteries for the Black Servants, supplying them with large quantities of magical energy which allowed them to fight at higher than normal capacity. It also had the side effect of freeing the Masters of any burdens for when they fought the Masters of Red, who would need to split their power between combat and maintaining their Servants.
As a consequence, though each homunculus possessed incredibly high-quality magic circuits, they were not actually meant for the purpose of performing magecraft themselves, merely to have power extracted from them. Add to that the fact that none of those acting as batteries had ever performed any physical activity, leaving their bodies extremely malnourished and their skin as soft as an infant's, and it was as much a wonder that the boy before him had managed to crawl out of the basement as much as escaping his containment pod.
Still, that left one factor curiously vague.
"Why is it that you rescued him, Rider?" Chiron inquired.
Astolfo quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "I just did it 'cause I wanted to."
"Caster seems to be looking for him, no?"
The paladin giggled. "That's none of my business!"
Chiron sighed, but he couldn't help the smile that floated onto his lips. Rider's motivation was similar to that of many of his students, at least when they first came under his care. In time, they grew more jaded to the reality of the world, more willing to accept ulterior motives for themselves other than pure altruism. Perhaps that was why, despite his teammate's antics, he found Astolfo endearing. No matter his immaturity, he was a hero who had lived a full life, yet still held fast to the pure, perhaps childish, concept of heroism.
"I will be away for a bit. No one should be coming to visit, so do not answer the door, even if someone knocks."
"Thank you~!" Astolfo waved.
"Rider, are you going to be responsible for him until the end?" Chiron inquired.
Astolfo's eyes harden and his grin widened. "I'll keep helping until I'm completely satisfied. I won't leave him, ever."
Chiron shook his head. He had expected such a declaration, but he had to be sure. He had to be sure Rider wasn't just distracting himself from his Master's… unfortunate machinations and would leave the boy to him once he lost interest. Though, given Lady Celenike's… peculiarities, perhaps he would allow that anyway.
"Ohhh…"
Both Servants turned their attention to the bed. The homunculus boy groaned as he awakened, his unnatural red eyes strangely vulnerable in the warm light of the room.
His eyes flickered weakly between the Servants of Black.
"Uhh… who are you?" he whispered.
Astolfo was on him like a new born pup on its master. "You're awake! My name's Astolfo, and was the one who rescued you, you remember? You do remember right?"
The boy smiled softly. "Oh. Y-Yeah. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Chiron couldn't help his grin. The boy was barely alive a moment before, and now he was smiling with a person he'd barely met. It seemed Rider's exuberance did indeed have its benefits.
"This is Chiron. He's a Servant of the Archer class."
And it's many, many downsides.
"Rider…"
Astolfo's eyes went wide. "I just said your True Name, didn't I?" He turned to the homunculus. "Ignore all that. Forget I said anything."
The boy's smile disappeared. "Rider… Archer…"
"He seems to be scared," Chiron observed.
"Of course, he is," Astolfo replied. "The entire castle's gotta be looking for him."
"Then this will only frighten you more," Chiron remarked. He faced the homunculus directly. "To put it bluntly, at the most, you only have three more years to live."
The boy's eyes dropped. "I'm well aware."
Chiron didn't want to dash what little hope the child had, but he was unaware how much the boy had learned since leaving his pod. It would not do to accidently withhold information that could be crucial to his livelihood.
"You are a homunculus, as thus, the perfect existence," the sage explained. "A blank slate that no normal human could naturally become. You ought to start thinking while you still have time."
"About what?" the boy asked, his voice empty with puzzlement.
"Your life is short, so consider what you want to do with it."
"I don't know."
"Perhaps you should," Chiron advised. "If you survive this, not changing anything in yourself would be no different than dying."
The boy's eyes widened, instinctive terror etched into his pupils. "Dying?"
"Like I said, you are a blank slate. If you make it through this ordeal, there will be no shortage of paths for you to—"
'Archer. Can you hear me?'
Chiron paused for a moment and shifted his focus onto his telepathic link with Lady Fiore. "Yes? What do you need, Master?"
'Uncle Gordes just returned from his mission. Grandfather has called a meeting in the main hall. He wants everyone to be present.'
Chiron nodded. "Understood master. I will be there shortly."
'Good. See you there.'
Sensing Fiore's presence fade from the other end of the line, the sage turned to Astolfo. "Has Lady Celenike informed you of the meeting?"
Astolfo rubbed his head wearily, as if he was struck by a migraine. "Yep. She just finished."
"Come then. Let's go." Chiron turned to the homunculus. "You may need time alone to process things, but I would advise you to take some time to consider your options."
He said no more and vanished to join his master.
"We'll be back real soon, so don't you worry!" Astolfo cheered. "See ya." He gave a quick wave before dissipating into spirit form as well. The last thing Chiron saw before he left the room was the boy's lost, hopeless gaze.
FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE
Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia had seen many things most would consider impossible. Being a Grail War veteran and a century old soul absorber made that unavoidable. When he was planning for the Great Holy Grail War, he'd anticipated some level of unpredictability, perhaps the Mage's Association summoning more powerful Servants than he'd accounted for or more enforcers being sent while the Red Faction occupied their Servants. He'd prepared as best he could for both those eventualities.
And yet…
"A third faction?" he spat incredulously.
Gordes gulped, sweat beading on his forehead under his lord's withering gaze. "Ye… yes. That's what I said."
Had they been alone, Darnic would have spat his response back at his subordinate. That he knew that's what he said. He had ears after all. But with the rest of his faction present, it would undermine his authority to get angry over something so miniscule.
The assembled Black Faction all stood warily throughout the throne room. While Hyouma Sagara had yet to arrive with Assassin, the six assembled Master-Servant pairs were nonetheless imposing. Or at least they would be, if Darnic didn't know the majority of them to be complete and utter disappointments. It spoke volumes that Gordes actually was their best choice to wield the third knight class.
"A third faction?" Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia muttered like the pathetic scum he was. "Is that even possible?"
"It's highly unlikely. But not inconceivable," his wheelchair bound sister, Fiore, graciously informed him. "The Greater Grail has had multiple indecisive wars to build up prana. Even with the backup system and Ruler draining its reserves, a sufficiently powerful force could in theory prompt it to summon more Servants. Though what that force could be, I have no idea."
Darnic smiled, and for once it had an element of genuine pride in it. Allowing the Forvedge siblings into Yggdmillennia had indeed proven to be a wise choice, if only since it brought him the older one. Fiore and Caules, despite their love for one another, were as different as night and day.
Fiore was the only mage other than himself who had spent time at the Clock Tower, and thus, despite her disability, the only other master he actually trusted to be capable of taking the Association mages in a straight fight. In the ranks of Yggdmillennia, where subpar was so often the average, she possessed magic circuits of as fine a quality as any first-rate mage. Though he would show her no mercy if they both made it to the free for all portion of the war, Darnic believed he would mourn her passing, and if she survived the conflict, he would be more than happy to leave to the newly glorified Yggdmillennia in her hands after he ascended to the Root.
Meanwhile, Caules was a mockery of everything a true mage stood for, the price to be paid for his sister's brilliance no doubt. He had no drive or ambition, no lust for evolution. Such sloth might be excusable if he were in any way remarkable, but the boy was completely hopeless at magecraft, with only some meager skills in a smattering of niche fields such as summoning and necromancy to his name, and even then, there was nothing he could do in those fields that a truly competent mage could not do better. And then there was his disgraceful dependence on technology. He even had an aptitude for it… Worst of all, he seemed to be laboring under the obscene delusion that his sister somehow depended on him.
Really, one only needed to look at their Servants to see the disparity. While Fiore had summoned Chiron, the teacher of half the heroes in Greek Mythology, in his preferred knight class no less, Caules had barely managed to conjure the monster of Doctor Frankenstein, a filthy artificial being that lacked even the useful qualities of a cheaply constructed homunculus, as a Berserker. The mechanical creature did not have the absurdly high power of most other Servants in her class, to the extent that her Mad Enhancement skill's function wasn't so much a boost to her natural abilities so much as it made her otherwise pathetic stats merely substandard. And with her lack of any useful skills, the pair would not be of a great help in the war.
Ideally, Darnic would keep Fiore as one of his elite hunters for the duration of the war, while Caules would serve as a pawn to be sacrificed as needed. If all went well, they could insure that Berserker's Noble Phantasm did as much damage to the Red Faction as possible, but on the other hand, it might be more useful to leave that failure alive until the final stages of the war: Something needed to be done about Fiore's debilitating compassion. It was a fine thing for a person to have, but to be truly successful in the moonlit world, one needed to focus on their goals. Empathy could cost a mage time, energy, even his life.
Thus, in order for Fiore to be a proper candidate to succeed him as head of the family, he would need to eliminate every trace of it within her. Presently, she deluded herself into believing she could kill without regrets, but her true nature would still show itself at some point, a truly unfathomable sense of guilt sometimes even hitting her retroactively after killing a test subject. If Berserker survived, he had no doubt she would start subconsciously avoiding her brother. He would ensure she failed in that particular endeavor. The act of murdering her own brother would break her in exactly the right way to make her the perfect head of the family. Without that insufferable whelp holding her down, and with the right words to reshape her mind in any misplaced grief she might feel, she would finally be able to realize her potential. No more silly and childish games like family and morals: Just Yggdmillennia. But for now, he had to focus on this extra faction.
"It matters little," Caster of Black, Solomon ibn Gabirol, otherwise known as Avicebron, declared. "No matter how powerful the instigating catalyst, the Grail would not have the magical energy necessary to summon a whole other faction."
"Teacher's right," Caster's Master, Roche Frain Yggdmillennia, concurred. "It's likely the ones that Gordes and Saber encountered are the only members of this new group."
It was a useful conclusion. Truthfully, that was the best way to describe the Caster pair: useful. Useful and competent. While Avicebron was not especially powerful, he knew how to use his specialization to its fullest effect. The first Servant summoned after Darnic's own, the Light of Wisdom's workshop had been hard at work creating high quality golems for the Black Faction, the kind that take a modern magus a year to make just one of. The thousand strong army wouldn't do much against the Servants of Red, but they would ward off any additional forces the Clock Tower might send, and if they got lucky, might even get the drop on an enemy master. Not to mention that when they completed Caster's Noble Phantasm, his Golem Keter Malkuth, the war was practically theirs. And with Roche eager to learn from his 'teacher' who knew what ancient knowledge Yggdmillennia would have after the war.
"What? You mean they're all alone?! Aww, that's so lonely. And totally not fair!" Rider yelled fervently. "Maybe we can go easy on them? You know? Oh! Oh! I know! I'll fight them! That should make it easy enough for them—"
"Be silent, Rider!" Celenike barked. "We will show them no mercy, is that understood?"
Rider rolled his eyes. "Yes, Master."
Astolfo was even more ridiculous than Darnic had expected. Yes, his legends had told of him being insane, but he had taken that to mean the paladin would have some form of Madness Enchantment. Instead he was… bubbly… for lack of a better term. And unfortunately, his legends did not mislead about his strength. While his extraordinary Magic Resistance and the nature of his Noble Phantasms made him more useful than Berserker, he was still far from impressive. Why Celenike sought him out specifically, he did not understand.
Though given that Celenike was… Celenike, Darnic doubted he wanted to understand. The woman was, to be frank, disgusting. Her knowledge and expertise in curses made her a deadly weapon, but in between her duties, she used those curses to kidnap and murder civilians for fun. Darnic had, from a certain point of view, done far worse things in his life, but they were all done for the sake of Yggdmillennia's prosperity. Such wanton cruelty for the sake of mere amusement was revolting and wasteful, to say nothing of how much she was risking revealing their world just to get a cheap sexual thrill.
Overall, the Black Faction was hardly what one would call the perfect fighting force. If this was all he had, Darnic would not have dared invoke the full wrath of the Mage's Association by seceding. Fortunately, he had much more.
Despite the few jewels in Yggdmillennia's crown, Darnic had polished it to perfection. For sixty years, he had prepared, building up a force of homunculi and devising strategies for the Holy Grail War. He had created an army of such size that even if the Red Servants could match their own, the Masters would be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Black auxiliary forces. Add to that the lack of time the Red Faction had to assemble and prepare themselves, and Yggdmillennia's possession of the Greater Grail allowing them to fight a defensive battle behind secure fortifications, and he was confident that they would claim victory.
And then there was his crowning jewel.
"Few in number or not, this new group has chosen to invade this nation just as the Red Faction has," a strong, confident voice stated from behind Darnic. "As the king of this land, I cannot allow such insolence to stand. They shall receive no mercy for daring to stand against the Black Faction!"
Darnic grinned from ear to ear. His choice for his own Servant had been the best possible option in Romania. Vlad the Third's abilities would be boosted exponentially in Romania under normal circumstances due to the boost afforded by his fame, but with his Demonic Defender of the State skill in effect, that bonus was doubled. There was an essence of danger about him that would terrify lesser men. But those had only be the boons that were expected.
What Darnic hadn't counted on was just how efficient Lancer would be. Though he had no illusions about a Servant being anything more than a familiar, not even he could deny that the King of Romania had a certain charisma about him, an aura that oozed overwhelming competence and confidence. Indeed, Darnic found himself liking and respecting his Servant more than he could remember any other person. Though his adamant refusal to use his second Noble Phantasm, Legend of Dracula, was worrying, the head of Yggdmillennia had no issue handing him the reins of the Black Faction. Between the two of them, he was the more experienced one when it came to commanding an army after all.
Besides, Kazikli Bey would be more than sufficient to claim victory.
Vlad looked to Saber. "What is your assessment of the enemy Servants?"
Siegfried had proven himself to be the perfect solider. Powerful, efficient, and unquestioningly obedient, the Dragon Slaying Knight was a finer Servant than Gordes deserved. The fool had actually commanded the hero to be silent unless spoken to by him, as if that would improve their communication at all. Darnic had learned from experience that even if a Servant was a weapon, treating them with respect provided many benefits for the war. It had with Fionn, and so far, had done the same with Vlad.
Fortunately, Lancer held higher authority than Gordes, which meant that Siegfried was permitted to ignore his Master's foolish order. "They were exceptional to the utmost. Of the two, I would say Lancer of Red is the greater threat, but Saber of Periwinkle is also a warrior of impressive skill. I believe she possesses some element of a dragon, but her power is such that I would consider her my equal still."
Darnic frowned. That was worrying. Siegfried's entire legend was based around dragon slaying. If this Servant was on par with him despite that advantage, what threat did she pose to the rest of their Servants? And to think the Red Faction had a hero even stronger than that…
Lancer remained calm, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "So, they are worthy foes… none should confront them save Saber or myself. Any other would be annihilated."
The rest of the masters and Servants nodded their understanding. None of them had any particular wish to die.
Fiore turned to Gordes. "What about the Masters? You said you fought them, Uncle Gordes."
Gordes became red in the face. He scratched the back of his head nervously. "The Red Master was a coward. He didn't show himself. And the other girl didn't have the guts to face me herself."
"And you just let her stand there?" Celenike sniped, biting down hard on the corner of her lip. "You do understand that we're supposed to kill the enemy whether they like it or not, right?"
"You think I didn't try!" Gordes shouted. "She had some stooge with her. He had twin swords and moved like a demon! He pierced right through my metal arm. I was lucky to get away with my life!"
Darnic's eye twitched. "You lost… to a mere swordsman?"
Gordes' eyes went wide, as if he finally realized the depths of his failure. "He wasn't a normal swordsman! The weapons—! He-he created them out of nothing! It was like some strange form of Gradation Air!"
"Do you mean to tell me," Darnic snarled, "that you were beaten into submission, not by a mage… but by her apprentice's rudimentary projection magic?! Even a child is capable of momentarily conjuring a weapon. How feeble is that alchemical armor spell you say you were using that it could be penetrated by a weapon that doesn't even exist! I expect you to be able to deal with a child, Gordes."
His tone made it clear that such incompetence was not to become a habit. Failure to retrieve Ruler was understandable, indeed even preferable to antagonizing her. But to be so soundly trumped by the minion of an enemy master, a minion who sounded like he could barely even be called a mage, was unacceptable.
Gordes backed away, cowering by Saber, hoping that the hero could defend him from Darnic's wrath if it came to that.
Fortunately, Lancer saw fit to raise a hand before Darnic put himself out a master.
"Being caught off guard is an understandable reason for defeat, Darnic," Lancer reasoned. "Though you should take care to avoid repeating it, as should we all. Is there anything else you can remember about this Master or her ally?"
Gordes scratched his chin in contemplation. "Erm… let's see… Well… she called herself Toh—no. No, that must have been a lie. But there was… the boy. He had Black Command Seals on his right hand."
"Black Command Seals?" Caules asked incredulously. "Does that mean something important?"
"I'm not sure," Fiore muttered. "Did he have a Servant?"
"No," Gordes responded. "His behavior would suggest that the girl's Saber was their only Servant."
Darnic stewed in silence as his faction theorized. Most of the suggestions were wild guesswork, the fanciful tales of those grasping at straws. Unlike his family, he had spent decades studying the Greater Grail, and knew its workings better than anyone alive. Yet, he had never heard of anyone possessing Commands Seals of any color but the traditional red.
It was disturbing. First Assassin's tardiness, the Red Faction making a pointless play for Ruler, and now this extra group mocking their factions. For all his preparation, this Great Holy Grail War just kept surprising him.
"Enough," Lancer declared. The king rose to his feet, his stature grand and inspiring. Even his constant aura of underlying dread could not thwart his honest majesty. "Another Master. Another faction. It makes no difference. Even if ten thousand Servants from one thousand factions were to be called to this war, there are none I would rather have by my side than those in this room. Our enemies may come, one at a time or all together. It doesn't matter. The Black Faction will be victorious!"
The Servants and Masters in the room, even stoic Siegfried and mad Celenike, all smiled at the king's proclamation. Darnic himself couldn't help but join in. Even if he lacked the Charisma Skill, Vlad certainly knew how to make a grand speech.
"And if the Red Faction, or the Periwinkle Faction, wishes to test that resolve, they will fall on our stakes!"
Darnic's smile disappeared.
The rest of the group filed out of the throne room, leaving master and Servant alone.
Darnic sighed. "We really must find some other way to refer to them. Periwinkle is simply too ridiculous to take seriously."
"Nonsense, master," Vlad gently retorted as he retook his place on the throne. "No matter how preposterous our enemy's standard, it is the one they have chosen to fight under. Unusual though their existence may be, the Periwinkle Faction conducted themselves honorably during this incident with Ruler. They have earned our respect and we shall grant it to them and refer to them properly."
Darnic felt a spike of irritation rise in him but squashed it down instantly. He bowed before Lancer. "As you say, my lord."
At the moment, he possessed an exemplary relationship with his Servant. Though he had given Vlad far more freedom than most Masters allowed, even referring to him with the honorifics his past kingship would demand, the Hero of the Spear had never abused the position he had been elevated to, even continuing to acknowledge and speak of Darnic as his Master. And with the entire war ahead of them, including the fast approaching Berserker of Red, he would hold his tongue when he had to.
Besides, what Master would waste breath reprimanding their Servant over something so trivial?
FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE
Shirou Kotomine sighed. "It really is not that funny."
"Oh…eheheh— but Master…snrk!— it is! Periwinkle!" Assassin of Red covered her mouth again to keep herself from cackling out loud.
The Ancient Empress of Assyria, the World's First Poisoner, was partaking in her own equivalent of rolling around on the church's floor, chortling her stomach out. She sat gracefully upon one of the pews, one leg crossed over the other, clutching at her sides with the fingers of one hand as she covered her mouth with the side of the other. She seemed to have a very different opinion on the matter. Her laughter was a mere titter when it even escaped her lips which she had sealed tight, but the shaking of her shoulders and the mirth in her eyes betrayed how amusing she found this.
Shirou shook his head in resignation. Lancer stood before him stoically, speechless since delivering his report about what happened on the highway. The final Servant present more than made up for it.
"Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And now purple has turned to periwinkle, and the blossoming flower heralds the arrival of a brave new faction into this Great Holy Grail War!"
That finally stole the laughter from Semiramis. Her bright smile evaporated as if it was never there in the first place and she gingerly rose to her feet. "Must you spoil everything with your insufferable pomp?"
Caster of Red, William Shakespeare, grinned brazenly. "What news could be more deserving of such bombast, my dear empress? The once clearly set path of fate has been overtaken by an impenetrable fog, our certain destiny lost to the winds of chaos and the whims of creation!" he spread his arms wide. "It is here the hero's mettle shall be tested, as his best laid plans edge ever closer to crushing desolation!"
"Doubtful," Karna countered dispassionately. "Though Saber of Periwinkle is undoubtedly a formidable warrior, I should have little trouble defeating her."
From most people, such words would sound as arrogant boasting, but Shirou knew better in Karna's case. The Hero of Charity, blunt as he could be, was not the blustering type. His words were merely his honest observation, with no malicious intent whatsoever. And with the tremendous power the Lancer of Red possessed, Shirou did not doubt him. He could likely defeat most of the Black Faction all at once if he were to face them in a straight battle.
Thus, it was imperative that Karna did not discover his plans until such time that Shirou had seized the Greater Grail. If he lost control of his trump card, who knew if he could overcome Yggdmillennia's fortifications. The task was made more difficult by Karna's ability to detect any lie, but Shirou never liked lying anyway. With Semiramis and Shakespeare both helping him, he should have little trouble keeping the truth from the other Servants of Red.
…
…
…
That is, if Shakespeare didn't tell them just to see what would happen.
Shirou sighed. He couldn't worry about that now. Until such time as he had revealed himself, he couldn't risk using a Command Seal on any Servant but Semiramis, lest the others get suspicious. For now, he'd just have to trust the bard to be true to his word. He just had to keep going.
He was almost there.
"Do you have any other information about the Periwinkle Faction?" he asked Karna. "I know of Shirou Emiya, but did you learn the names of the others?"
"I have my suspicions of Saber of Periwinkle's True Name," Karna revealed. "However, as I have no way to be sure quite yet, it could be harmful to set you upon a possible false trail."
Understandable. If Karna revealed his suspicions, Shirou could misinterpret clues to her true identity to be leading towards the supposed heroic spirit. It was a minor concern, but still best avoided if possible.
"As for her Master, I believe she was referred to by the name Tohsaka."
Shirou's heart skipped a beat. His smile fell away to be replaced by a look of concern.
"I'm sorry, Lancer, I must have misheard you. Could you please repeat that?"
Karna sighed. "Just because you desire not to have heard it does not mean that your ears have deceived you, priest. However, it is of no object to repeat myself. The girl was referred to by her allies as Tohsaka."
Shirou turned and staggered away from the Servants. He leaned against one of the pews, his eyes wide his shock and his mind whirling with disbelief.
"That is impossible!" Semiramis declared with indignation. "The Tohsaka bloodline was wiped out in the Third Holy Grail War. You must have been mistaken."
"That is possible but doubtful, Assassin," Lancer replied. "I know what I heard. What you choose to do with it is your own business."
Shirou rangled with himself and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Lancer. You've done good work tonight. Please prepare to provide support to Archer and Rider if their effort to retrieve Berserker spirals into something more."
Lancer nodded. "As you wish. Though I do warn you priest, you are not my Master. It would be improper for you to command me as such."
With that, Karna astralized and was gone.
Semiramis huffed. "The nerve of that fool. If he only knew the truth, he would not speak with such impertinence."
"He means well," Shirou muttered, though he was too distracted to put much effort into the reproof.
Semiramis turned to him. She frowned worriedly. "Are you alright, master?"
Shirou shook his head fervently. He did his best to give Semiramis a pleasant smile. "I'm alright, I assure you. It's just… a Tohsaka. I thought they were all gone. I thought I had failed them all."
Shakespeare walked forward and clapped the priest on the back. "You place too little faith in the endurance of the hunted, Master. For though noble Banquo was slain, young Fleance was far able enough to escape the murderers' knives."
Shirou gathered the playwright was alluding to one of his many works, though being only halfway through the complete collection the Caster had gifted him, he was unsure which he referred to. Still, the meaning was easy enough to comprehend, even if it didn't apply.
"I checked, Caster!" Shirou protested. He caught himself before he shouted again however, and lowered his voice, taking a deep breath. "So, did my father. We searched for the Master and his kin for weeks after the Third War. We found all of them, each one slaughtered. Even after that, Risei kept his ears open for years, praying that we'd missed something, that there had been an illegitimate child we weren't informed of. Anything to suggest that they hadn't all been exterminated."
He felt the beginnings of tears peak up behind his eyes, but he squashed them down instantly. This news was tearing him in two, dragging his failures to the surface and amplifying them, for not only had he been unable to save the Tohsakas he knew of, but he had left the lone survivor to fend for herself in the midst of the cruel, sinful world.
He had cast off his emotions to prevent such turmoil, and yet, as the hour neared where he would need to be composed the most, he found himself collapsing.
Assassin gave him a sympathetic glance. "You really shouldn't tear yourself up over this, Master," she insisted. "If you found them all, you found them all. This girl, whoever she is, must be some imposter. A pretender who's using the name to make herself appear more dangerous than she is. After all, if she was a Tohsaka, wouldn't she have contacted her family's dear friend Risei Kotomine, or at least his son?"
Shirou's eyes widened. "She did."
Both Semiramis and Shakespeare raised their eyebrows in confusion.
"I thought you said you'd never met her?" his Servant inquired.
"I haven't," Shirou confirmed. "But according to Emiya, my brother has."
Shakespeare's face lit up like the heavens themselves. "A brother?! My dear Master, I am astounded! To think the Saint of times long past possesses kin still on this Earth!" He spread his arms wide, as he shouted as boisterously as his eloquent tone would allow, "What a plot turning revelation! An unpredictable twist!"
Semiramis glared daggers at him. "I remember that boy mentioning you had a brother, but I assumed after you didn't bring it up that the matter was unimportant."
Shirou cringed, bashfully rubbing the back of his head. "It's not that I was trying to hide it. I just didn't have any reason to mention him until now. We were never especially close, and I haven't seen him since Risei's funeral."
Shakespeare wriggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Ah! A case of Edgar and Edmund. But which is the legitimate and which is the bastard?"
Shirou frowned. "Caster, this is a house of the Lord. Please refrain from such language. Besides, neither Kirei nor I have such issues with the other, we merely haven't had as much interaction as most brothers have. He traveled with our father on pilgrimages when he was young, while I worked towards obtaining the Grail. We never had the time to see each other."
Well, that and his fear of the anomaly he sensed within Kirei. A fear he might have to confront quite soon.
After all, if Kirei had taught this supposed Tohsaka magecraft like Emiya claimed, then he would be able to confirm if she was who she claimed to be.
But so close to his goal, to the salvation of all humanity, could he take that risk?
Could he not? Even with the third faction going after Yggdmillennia, he'd have to face them eventually. They'd already thwarted his attempt to eliminate Ruler. Against such a dangerous foe, did he not need every scrap of information he could get?
After all, if this Master of Periwinkle had proven anything in the past few days, it was that she was a strategic mastermind of the highest caliber.
FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE
"Okay, so the 'three,' in this case, the 'A,' is multiplied by itself. You do the same thing for the 'four' over here," said Rin.
Jeanne nodded, eyes focused on the scene in front of her.
"So now this here, can you tell me what it is?"
"Um… it's a nine and a sixteen, so… twenty-five?"
"And what is the square root of that?"
"Umm… I still don't understand what that means…" Jeanne whimpered.
"What times itself makes twenty-five?"
"Oh! Five!"
"Correct!" Rin proclaimed proudly, a wide grin shining across her face. "Now, just remember that A squared plus B squared equals C squared, and you'll be all set for this next part."
Ruler gasped, her eyes widening in awe. "Incredible! You are a genius, Master of Periwinkle."
Rin's could only smile in embarrassment. "It's nothing really. I was at the top of my class back in high-school. Solving these problems is child's play for me, but I still barely use any of it anymore. I'm actually forgetting a lot of it."
"Nevertheless, you have my deepest thanks." Ruler narrowed her eyes at the notebook. "To think, such infernal concepts would exist in the Lord's beautiful world."
Saber raised an eyebrow. "Do you truly hate arithmetic so, Ruler?"
Ruler froze like a deer in the headlights.
Jeanne's paralyzed face slowly shifted into a sullen frown. "I hate no man, woman, or child on God's earth. There is no person I do not love."
"Just not math," Rin snarked.
"Numbers aren't people!" she fumed, giving the chuckling Saber a half-hearted stink-eye. "Y-You would surely not find this nearly as amusing if you were the one attempting it!"
"I agree," Saber nodded. "I will confess that I feel some measure of relief knowing that you are the one who needs to solve these problems, rather than I."
The three women sat together at a picnic table outside a cheap motel. Inside, Shirou was preparing dinner, while Rin had decided to engage their companion in conversation under the stars. They were close to Millennia Citadel, and who knew if Ruler would stay with them once they encountered this person Zelretch was so eager for them to meet. She needed to pump the Saint for information about these revelations of hers while she still could.
"Erm, also, what did you mean by 'this next part?'" Jeanne asked.
"Well, what I just showed you was a very simple example of prerequisite knowledge. This thing on the page here is the actual problem. You're supposed to be applying the Pythagorean Theorem to this problem over here…" Rin sighed, pointing at the page the textbook was opened to, "Which means I have to teach you Sine Law. And Cosine and Tangent Laws."
Jeanne's already worried expression fell away to be replaced by absolute dread.
"Incidentally, I can't remember any of those things, so I'll need to borrow your textbook for a minute."
Her way in turned out to be an assortment of notebooks splayed across the table. Apparently, when Ruler had taken control of Laeticia's body, she had agreed to do her best to keep the girl's life on track as much as possible. Since she couldn't attend her classes while performing her duties, Ruler had decided to keep her word by completing Laeticia's homework in her downtime. Unfortunately, despite her supernatural abilities and renown as a Servant, Jeanne still had the education of a fifteenth century peasant girl, hardly sufficient to conduct twenty-first century math.
Or any math, really. At least, anything beyond rudimentary addition and subtraction. Quite frankly, it was a miracle that she had caught on to multiplication so quickly. Or rather, it was only thanks to the Grail. When one thought about it, the two were basically the same thing.
"I've gotta say, this is incredibly basic stuff. I mean, you're still leagues away from things like logarithms or even factoring polynomials. Or even factoring in general. I'm gonna be honest, you should focus on another subject. At your current level, what you're attempting to do is impossible. It's literally going from simple multiplication to trigonometry in a single step. It can't be done."
"But—but I promised Laeticia…"
The Tohsaka mage chuckled at the Saint's feeble protests. "You can always focus on different subjects. I'm sure you're more than capable of writing a compare and contrast essay on a pair of books, or… I dunno, does she have a visual arts class? Come to think of it, shouldn't Laeticia be able to help you through these things? I mean she's gotta be in there somewhere, right?" she pointed vaguely at Jeanne's forehead.
"I don't know," Jeanne answered despondently, "I feel like she's been asleep for a very long time."
"Can't you, like, cede control of her body back to her, or something?"
"That is impossible without me vanishing completely."
"Okay, you're definitely in a rough spot… I can sympathize. I guess… my only advice is to try and wake her up."
Her mouth blossomed into a catlike grin. "So, Ruler, I was wondering, since I have been helping you with this, would you be willing to tell us a bit more about your revelations?"
Ruler sighed. "Rin, my revelations are not so easy to discuss and even if they were, I cannot disclose exclusive information to any faction. The only one I can speak with you about is the one about the silver haired men, and even that is only due to Shirou's involvement in it."
"That's fine" Rin declared. The other visions would be useful, but the one involving Shirou was the one that concerned her the most. "I was actually wondering; did you recognize either of the men you saw?"
"No. I can't say I did," Jeanne replied. "Other than their red garments and dark skin, I can say for certain that both men were Japanese, but nothing that might hint at their identities. Do you have a theory?"
Rin bit her lip, mulling over whether she could risk discussing her old Archer with Ruler. But, if you couldn't trust a Saint…
"Have you ever heard of the Heroic Spirit EMIYA?"
Jeanne nodded. "I have. I had some limited contact with the Counter Force during my life. After my ascension to the Throne of Heroes, I looked into what Guardians I could find. That particular Hero of Justice had one of the finest records I had ever…" her eyes widened. "Wait… Shirou… is he…?"
"No," Rin said, perhaps a little too quickly. "And he never will be."
Jeanne looked down. "I see. So the heroic spirit was from another timeline. Still, to see that one may enter the Throne for doing such terrible things. How could he not become cynical? Is his attitude a mask?"
"Shirou is not a cynic, and it took a great deal of trauma to shape him into the one we met in the previous War," Saber assured their guest. "Our Shirou, however, is still perhaps a little… overzealous… when it comes to saving others, but he is far from one who dwells on his own suffering to the exclusion of all else. That is a trait he can only develop after killing more people than he could cope with."
"I don't see how he couldn't," Jeanne confessed. "While such perseverance is admirable, how could it not give out after so much—"
"Dinner's ready!" Shirou shouted, coming over to the table with a veritable feast in his arms. Soon, the picnic table was covered with steaming, delectable dishes of both East and West.
First to land on the table was a pan of stir-fried vegetables with beef strips, closely followed by macaroni and cheese with leeks and roasted tomato. Yotsumi yakitori was put out with a couple of dipping sauces that he had probably made from scratch. Saber was looking a little disappointed that a certain side dish seemed to be missing until Shirou went back inside and brought out a plate stacked high with rice balls, likely with various fillings, and she grinned excitedly. And it went so well with everything on the table!
"I didn't know what Ruler would like, so I just tried to make as much of a variety as I could with the ingredients we had on hand" Shirou explained. "That alright, Ruler?"
Ruler couldn't respond, as both she and Saber had their gazes locked on the magnificent banquet before them.
Rin leaned into the Saint with a smirk. "You were saying?"
"Such wonderful aromas… the taste must be euphoria itself…"
"Welcome to heaven, Ruler," Saber said, grinning. From her perspective, it had only been a few days since she last ate Shirou's cooking, but she was already incredibly eager to have it again.
"Dig in everybody," Shirou said.
The words had barely left his mouth before the blonde Servants assaulted the menagerie of meals, each one eagerly stacking their selections, gobbling them up only once they couldn't fit anything else on their plates, and both were somehow managing to do it with impeccable manners. It was like watching a mirror move from both sides. If it weren't for her familiarity with Saber and Jeanne's much longer hair, Rin wasn't sure she could have told them apart.
Shirou went back inside and a minute later came back out with more food.
"Wohtsh jhmpph—!" Jeanne caught herself before continuing. She chewed, swallowed, and took a breath before trying to speak again. "Begging your pardon," she blushed, "I just wanted to ask; what are those?" She pointed at a bowl stacked with 'chips.'
"French fries," Shirou said, putting them on the table alongside some tempura he had brought out at the same time. Ruler just looked more confused. "Fried potato strips. Origin debatable, but they're probably not from France."
"I just want to know where you found a deep fryer," Rin asked.
"The motel kitchen."
Rin gave him a look.
"What? A member of the staff walked by our room while I was coming out with the stir and offered to let me use some of the kitchen staff's ingredients if I also helped cook dinner for the guests at the motel restaurant at dinner tonight."
"Shirou, are you serious?" Rin sighed in exasperation.
"I can't help it if people like my food."
"Yeah, but letting them rope you into doing the jobs of their staff is on a completely different level of ridiculous altruism."
"They said they'd reimburse me for any ingredients I used that they didn't provide themselves, so I figured that as long as we don't have anything to lose…" he trailed off. Rin didn't try to argue. There was really no point anyway. Besides, if he was going to do someone else's chores for absolutely no reason, at least he was just cooking. It was the one thing she knew he always loved to do.
Indeed, Rin had a pleased smirk on her face as she took some of the yakitori and rice. Shirou's cooking was often a more powerful bargaining chip than he knew, and if Jeanne enjoyed it as much as Saber, Rin might just be able to get a dearly desired favor out of her.
Shirou smiled as everyone ate. "So, how is everything?"
Saber nodded. She bit into the last bit of meat on her last skewer of yakitori and pulled it off the stick, sighing and grinning with clear satisfaction, having devoured nearly half the food on the table. "Yes. I'm glad to know your cooking skills remain as unparalleled as ever. I'll have seconds at your convenience."
"Yeah, I figured you might," Shirou chuckled. "I've already got some stuff in the oven, although the hotel is requesting that some of it be served at dinner."
"May I please have more as well, Shirou?" Ruler requested eagerly, and Rin noticed that the dishes of the other half of the meal had begun to pile up in front of the arbiter.
Shirou's eyes went wide. "Oh. Sure, Ruler. But I only expected to feed one person with Saber's appetite."
Ruler's face fell. "Oh, I see. You only have enough for one."
"No, it's just—"
"Hmm… You two may have to split the seconds," Rin piped up.
Everyone's gazes locked onto the young Tohsaka: Ruler's was hopeful, Saber's bespoke mild panic, and Shirou just looked plain confused.
'Tohsaka, what are you talking about?' Shirou inquired through their gem link. 'It might take me a bit more time to make another course for Ruler, but I can do it.'
'She doesn't know that, Shirou,' Rin reasoned. 'And that means we can use it as leverage.'
She could feel Shirou's disapproving frown. 'We are not using my food to strong-arm her into betraying her duties, Rin. Also, can't you see how distressed Saber feels about the idea?'
To be fair, Saber did look quite distressed. Rin rolled her eyes. 'Relax Shirou. I don't want to turn her against us by trying to force her to do something against her will. This is just a way to add extra incentive.'
'This is distastefully underhanded, Master,' Saber protested. 'I thought you above such knavery.'
'You just don't want to share the food.'
"Shirou made it for me!" Saber protested aloud, her sudden outburst earning a curious glance from Ruler.
'And you left us on an out of control motorcycle. Consider this your punishment.'
Saber crossed her arms and pouted, but she did not speak up.
Rin sighed. She turned back to Ruler with a huge smile.
"Ruler, I was wondering if, in exchange for Saber generously sacrificing half her food to you, you might be willing to do us a little favor."
Jeanne's eyes narrowed at Rin, but the sudden growling of her stomach forced her to look away in embarrassment. "Erm… That depends on what you had in mind."
Rin grinned. "Well, as Ruler, you are in charge of certain… aspects of the Grail War. So, this would include things like… just for example, faction color designations, correct?"
Ruler raised an eyebrow. "…Yes? Yes, it would. Why do you ask?"
"Perfect!"
Rin's smirk widened. A few clouds overhead began gathering ominously overhead.
"In exchange for a second helping," she said, "you must change our faction color into something that isn't Periwinkle."
The clouds dispersed.
Shirou sighed, resting his head in one hand. "Really? Rin, it's not that bad a color."
"I cannot believe I've sacrificed half of my food for this…" Saber mumbled dejectedly.
A letter addressed to Rin appeared in a tiny conflagration of prismatic sparks. For once, she eagerly opened it up.
My Dear Apprentice,
I confess that you are allowed to change your color as many times as you like. I am actually a little surprised that you didn't immediately see my Periwinkle joke for what it was. Credit where it is due, you normally see through such trifles. Given the fact that Red is already taken, I would recommend Blue or Green.
Warmest regards,
K.Z.S.
Rin groaned.
"Damn that old man," she whined. On the other hand, he had all but given her his word that he wouldn't interfere. That was enough to wipe the frown from her face. She had this in the bag. She would finally be rid of that ridiculous color. Not for blue though. Anything but that.
Ruler quirked an eyebrow in confusion, then shrugged. "I doubt that anyone has ever sought to do such a thing before. Then again, I suppose it is within my power. And it isn't against the rules of the Holy Grail War. Very well, I'll do it. Do you have any preference for the new color?"
Rin leaned back, looking very pleased with this outcome. "I don't care. As long as it isn't periwinkle, I don't care. Erm—not blue though."
Saber blinked.
"Why ever not?" she asked, "It seems perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, I would quite enjoy having that as our new standard."
"Blue is Luvia's color, not mine! I am not fighting under my arch-nemesis' banner!"
"Arch-nemesis? Is that not a touch melodramatic? Luvia is a wonderful…" Saber paused mid-sentence and sidled her way over to Shirou. "Who is this Luvia character?"
"Luviagelita Edelfelt," Shirou whispered back. "Imagine Rin but Finnish, a little more conniving, and much more aware of her social status. To be clear about why Rin's upset, she's partial to wearing blue dresses, so she kind of associates the color blue with her."
"So this other woman has good taste? Why the animosity?"
"They're rivals. But the truth of the matter is that they're probably also best friends. Never let either of them hear you suggest that. They just think they hate each other because they see their own faults in the other. As I said, they're shockingly alike. Never suggest that in front of them either."
Rin's eyebrow twitched. He did realize she was sitting right there? No matter how quiet he was, she was going to hear him.
Saber nodded, appearing to understand. Nevertheless…
"I still hold that blue is an appropriate banner for us to fight under," she said, speaking up again.
"You've got no hope of me agreeing to that," Rin fired back.
Jeanne sighed. Such a difficult woman.
"You can't deny that blue is easier to get used to than periwinkle. And it's not like red is available anyway."
"I know, but—"
"Who's more important to you, Saber or Luvia?" Shirou asked firmly.
The answer wasn't even up for debate. Regardless of the length of time spent with one another, there was an obvious answer.
"…Saber," Rin said, not meeting Shirou's eyes.
"So can't you try and think of Blue as being Saber's color rather than Luvia's?"
Rin shrank back just a little. She really didn't want to, but on the other hand, if she allowed herself to think rationally, it was the reasonable thing to do: It was simple (and more importantly, not embarrassing), and it would make Saber happy. And considering that Saber wore so much blue, it was kind of fitting. Still…
Rin scratched her head in frustration. "Fine, I'll go with Blue."
Saber seemed happy about this decision. She took some measure of comfort in that. It was about as much as she could get.
"Very well." Ruler stood up and summoned her flag. She slammed the pole into the earth, the magnificent banner glowing a brilliant gold against the growing evening shadows. "By the power invested in me as Ruler, True Name: Jeanne D'Arc, Arbiter of the Great Holy Grail War, I revoke the standard of this faction."
Rin could practically feel her heart ease. No more laughter, no more mockery. She could focus all her attention on utterly annihilating the other factions. Still, it was Luvia's… No, don't think about it that way. She had enough integrity to see it as a representation of Saber, at least for a little while.
"From now on, I declare this group, the Blue Faction!"
A soft whine escaped from Rin's throat. "I feel like I'm just trading one headache for another…"
"Thank you, Master," Saber lit up. "However, if you find you're unable to abide with this color, we can simply change it again. I'll not stop you."
"No. It's fine," she sighed in resignation. After all, changing their faction name every other day would be even more ridiculous than leaving it as Periwinkle.
Jeanne smiled at Arturia. "It does seem most appropriate. You are the only Servant in this faction, and you do seem to wear a great deal of blue. Also, it corresponds well with red and black."
Rin found, to her continued frustration, that she couldn't argue with that.
As the two blonde Servants got to talking about their color preferences and what came of that, Rin could barely breathe. She'd gotten rid of the ridiculous standard her master had stuck her with but now was forced to fight under the iconic standard of her rival.
…
No. Blue was Saber's color before Luvia's. She got there first. The fact that she'd known Luvia for longer didn't have to mean anything. Shirou was right: She'd get used to this.
Jeanne reached into her bag and found a book. She had to have been incredibly lucky that it hadn't burned up in Karna's initial attack. Rin only recognized the title, Les Miserables, due to its fame as a Broadway musical. She had only a few vague memories of what the story was about from a few times she'd heard people talking about it in some of her classes. Actually, if memory served, Luvia had actually mentioned it once or twice. Maybe that Finnish demon had her uses after all.
"Do you think you could help me with this?" Jeanne asked, looking up at Rin. "Supposedly, I'm to read this with an aim to consider the themes present in the novel and compare them to another piece of literature, but I'm unsure what these themes might be."
Rin found she couldn't help but smile. This book was thick, and it definitely looked boring, but she'd powered through harder material when she was still learning with her father, to say nothing of what she had to read for Zelretch. This would just be another challenge, but it would still be a break from some of the more trying material.
"Okay, Ruler. You're starting from the beginning, right?"
Jeanne nodded.
"Then I'll just start by explaining a few basics: Themes, in this regard, are recurring plot elements or concepts that arise over and over again throughout the story. In this, I've heard that one of the central themes is Justice as a concept?"
Shirou nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely one of them. Justice, what constitutes it, what lengths one is willing to go to in order to uphold it in their minds, and where it gets taken too far."
Rin quirked an eyebrow. "I think? It'd be smarter to just start reading and go from there. Once you get started, I should only need to help you a little. Unlike those math problems, you should be able to catch on to this."
Ruler grinned. "Thank you, Tohsaka. I really do appreciate this. I'm truly sorry for causing you so much trouble."
"You've already done me a pretty big favor. No need to apologize. So, shall we begin?"
"Of course."
Shirou headed back inside to continue cooking, but for now, Rin had to focus on the girl she was tutoring. It was clear to her that Jeanne had a long night ahead of her. But this would be a trifle compared to the challenges Rin expected they would all have to face.
Indeed, this was merely the first long night in a series of much, much longer ones.
New pieces arrive on the board and the other factions react to Periwinkle's arrival, all the while unaware that Periwinkle no longer exists. Poor Rin, she went to all that trouble and the other factions have no way of knowing they've changed their name.
Trifas draws ever closer. What will happen there, who can say (other than me, of course, but I'm not telling).
Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!
Go Forth and Conquer!
