Chapter 4

"Shiro..."

The deep voice called to Shiro, guiding his half-conscious mind through the night. Lazy steps echoed in the damp, cold air.

"Shiro..."

A muted, muffled voice called out unheard warnings from the back of his mind. All Shiro heard was the distant summoning.

"Shiro..."

As Shiro climbed the steps, his eyes raised to the parting clouds in the night sky. There, a golden light shone down, calling to him. Shiro's unworthy eyes fell upon the bearded man in the clouds on high. "Shiro, I am God. I command you to come..." The deep voice of the God of the Christians called.

"Wait, what?" Shiro stopped, senses back to him coming to him. Around him he noted he was on the steps leading to the shrine on Mount Enzou. Looking back up the comical, bearded God in the clouds, Shiro puzzled. "God, as in the God of the Christians?"

Nodding sagely, the Kingly God in the clouds spoke, "Yes. I, your God, comm-"

God stopped when Shiro raised a hand and interrupted him. "I'm Shinto."

"What?" The baffled voice of the King of Kings sounded.

Shrugging, Shiro explained. "I'm Shinto, most Japanese are. Even then, I'm not particularly religious."

God's mouth hung slightly agape. "Regardless," he spoke, regaining his holy air, "I am God of all. Now that I am before you; there can be no doubt in your mind that I am God of all. He'd my command Shiro. I have chosen you to carry out a great quest." A slight twinge of annoyance pulsed through The Almighty's forehead as Shiro raised his hand again.

Gesturing to placate the divine being's anger, Shiro spoke again. "Just because you exist doesn't mean I am going to worship you. Besides, isn't the Christian God supposed to be all powerful? Why do you need me?" Now, Shiro wasn't against a quest. He did want to be a hero after all, but this whole situation was just so honestly confusing.

Shiro half expected the God to pull a Rin and go all Tsundere from the way the vein on his forehead was throbbing. But then the great being ducked behind the clouds and a ruckus of someone rummaging through a pile of junk echoed across the town. Then, instead of God, a Shrine Gate was raised into view. "Shiro! I am the God of the Shinto."

"Are you even trying?" Shiro chastised exasperated, a bead of sweat dropping down his face. "Shinto don't worship shrine gates!" Guess Omniscient is off the table as well. Hand rising to his chin, Shiro began to get suspicious. There was something very fishy about this 'God.'

A set of hurried footsteps alerted Shiro to another. "Shiro!" Saber's stressed but relieved voice called out as she charged up the stairs, ahoge mustache disguise firmly in place. "Are you all righ-" Saber stopped mid-sentence and took a knee. "My Lord." She spoke with reverence and absolute obedience.

"Arthur, King of the Britons." God commanded. "Your Master refuses to hear my word and denounces me." Saber's eyes flew to her lord, then to Shiro, looking at him as if he had struck her. "I command you Arthur, make him bend knee to me in apology. He will grovel or his life is forfeit."

For an instant, Shiro saw the piety of his servant battle within herself. Loyalty to her Lord and Master fought against one another within her soul. Then, eyes narrowing, she gained clarity. Rising to her feet, she glared to the image in the clouds. "The Lord hates groveling!" She called out, pointing her hidden sword in accusation.

"Eh?" Shiro and God uttered in bafflement.

Saber, not one to be deterred, pressed her accusation, "He told me he hated groveling and apologies! The psalms as well! Who are you who dares impersonate my Lord!"

One beat, then another. It became apparent that the (false) God in the sky was out of ideas. "Screw it. Assassin! Plan B!" The Lord yelled in a strangely feminine voice.

The only warning Shiro had was the tug of a hand on his shirt before he was launched upward and toward the Shrine, Sabers surprised yell of warning quickly left behind.

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It was the form that had thrown her master that stopped Saber's pursuit. Sword before her, she studied the man who impeded her path. She knew this man. From his chain coif to his grey armor, dulled from a thousand battles. No man had ever bested him in swordsmanship. No enemy had ever survived his blade. She knew this man. She knew his legacy. It would not stop her from protecting Shiro. "Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film. Stand aside." The man turned to face her, his disarmingly young face belying his danger.

A sinister smirk destroyed the usual baby like innocence of the man's young features. "Oh? You would command me Arthur?" The deep, manly, resonating voice contained a spiteful glee within it.

Wincing, Saber tried once more to reason with her knight. She had no desire to strike a former comrade down. "I know you may have a new master. But I have no desire to fight with you. As my former knight-"

The deep laugh that cut her off resonated within Saber's chest. "Foolish King." The spiteful knight jeered. "You have no idea do you? I was never your knight!" Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film's eyes widened with mad glee. "Has it not occurred to you? How was I summoned as an Assassin?" A twinge of fear flitted in Saber's heart. "You never figured it out did you? Figured out who framed you?" The words dropped upon Saber like a ton of bricks. The murder. The historian. Had Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film... had he? "YES! It was me Saber! I condemned you to that prison!"

The rippling laughter filled the forest was only drowned out when Saber unleashed a howl of rage. Charging forward, she brought her sword upon the man who had framed her. Who had stopped her quest. Who had condemned her and Bedevere to life (minus parole) in that hellhole. Sword upon sword clashed and the echo of steel on steel was immediately muffled by the roars of anger and sinister laughter.

Again and again, sword clashed on sword. The ringing metal was the percussion in the duo's dance of death. Their anger and glee fulfilling the rest of the orchestral ambiance. Yet a cut here, a nick there. Saber was losing. Her anger clouded her mind, and Assassin capitalized on every mistake. If something didn't change, she would die.

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Shiro landed in an open courtyard soundly upon his rump. "Oww..." He ground out as he got up, rubbing his damaged posterior.

"Boy." A confident voice snapped Shiro's head to the side. There, looking down her nose at him stood a woman. Wait... scratch that. Looking down her reeaaaallly long, really fake carrot nose stood a woman. "I'll be taking those command seals."

"Are you serious?" Shiro said, completely exasperated. Carrot nosed woman here, fake god in the sky, and who knows just what the hell was back with Saber. These 'heroes of old' were turning out to be a pile of crazy people. Powerful, crazy people; but crazy none the less.

Not realizing the exact meaning of his statement, the woman smirked. "Of course, I'll start my revenge with Archer, then move on to the other." The evil glee in her voice was far more real than her nose.

Shiro placed his palm upon his face, or tried to. He... he couldn't move! Slow as he was, Shiro was still able to figure out he had been bound magically. The woman stepped closer, her hand reaching out to the seal that bound Shiro to Saber.

The whistling of countless swords cutting through the air drove the woman to beat a hasty retreat. Numerous blades impacted all around Shiro, kicking up a cloud of dust. Moments later, that dust settled revealing the red image of Archer. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked smugly at Shiro, "Tisk, Rin would kill me if I let Caster kill-"

"Zap." Caster interrupted, pointing her finger at Archer. Without any flash or fanfare, Archer was gone. In his place, a tiny newt in a newt-sized red coat hovered for just a moment. Then gravity realized there was something ignoring it and kicked in, causing the little newt to fall to the ground.

"Eh?" Shiro stuttered as the woman walked up, picked the struggling newt up by the tail and inspected it. Frowning, she shook her head and flicked the newt off into the night. It wouldn't be a bother any more.

"Now, where were me?" Shiro didn't like the woman's smirk as she turned to him.

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Saber would die. Even as she reclaimed her mind from her anger, she knew it was too late. She had taken countless shallow cuts in her foolish rage, and Assassin had capitalized. Her blows had grown sluggish and her movements had slowed with the loss of blood. It was a perfectly executed plan. Anger her, and then injure her enough while she was angered to remove the option to use Excalibur. As weak as she was, there was no way she could summon the strength to use her noble phantasm. Yet, even with this knowledge, she would not give up. She would fight to the end. If there was even a sliver of hope, she would save Shiro.

Launching another strike, Saber felt her sword swatted away by Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film. He was toying with her now. Another chuckle escaped the fiend as she stumbled away. "Arthur, King of the Fools. Never recognizing me as a traitor rushing into battle full of rage. Men like you are so easy to manipulate." Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film strode forward. The clash of sound on sword sounded once, twice, then a third. In desperation, Saber struck. With fluid grace, Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film parried and kicked Saber away, knocking the King on her back. "It's over Saber." Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film raised his sword above his head to deliver the killing blow.

Then a newt landed on Saber's face.

A newt in a rather charming red coat.

"Wat." The two nights of old said in absolute, spelling-forgetting confusion.

Then the newt took stock of the situation and locked eyes with Assassin. Then countless swords materialized; hovering in the air. Assassin did not get the chance to repeat his failure of proper spelling as blade after blade swarmed toward him. No longer in control of the situation, Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film was hard pressed to deflect blade after blade as he gave more and more ground.

Saber could not believe her eyes. She was saved in the most unlikely of ways. She could only hope Shiro was having this much luck.

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Shiro was indeed having quite a bit of luck as once again Caster was interrupted at the last second. This time not by swords, but by a sword. Singular. Jumping back to avoid the blade, Caster shouted in hatred. "You!"

While before Shiro had been completely surprised at his rescue, the second time had a lesser impact. Pulling the grating up from his helmet Sir Bedevere studied Shiro. "Are you alright Sir 'Shiro-Senpai'?" Quirking an eyebrow, Sir Bedevere shook his head and muttered something. "Very well then, we'd best be off. "He motioned behind him to... nothing, save maybe for a grimy looking squire holding coconuts. Oh... the imaginary mount. Shiro held back an exasperated sigh.

"Don't ignore me BEDEVERE!" Caster called out in hatred, drawing the eyes of her foes. "I have waited for this day! The day I would get my revenge against you and Arthur! If it wasn't for you, my witchcraft would never have been revealed!"

"Beg your pardon?" Bedevere leaned forward and studied the woman. "Ah! The duck woman!"

"I'm a wi- Oh never mind! Zap!"

"Ni!"

The two words of power clashed in a torrent of mana. Power surged between the two, ripping ribbons into the ground and making the very air itself cry in agony. Then, with a great bang, the power exploded. The sheer amount of dirt kicked up by the clash clouded the area. "Hurry lad, we'd best retreat. I cannot match a witch in her place of power long." Once again Bedevere motioned toward the nonexistent steed behind him.

Shrugging apologetically, Shiro tried to explain. "I'm thankful for your help. But I'm telling you. There is nothing there."

Rather than get an argument, Bedevere rolled his eyes. Then knocked Shiro upside the head with the pommel of his sword, knocking the boy clean out. "Easier this way. Sorry, there just isn't time to explain now."

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Saber watched as Archer-Newt and Assassin fought. Blade after blade hammered into Assassin's defense. A literal sea of blades littered the steps. Some fading, others remaining to hamper Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film's footwork. With each passing moment, Archer-Newt's blades came closer to their mark. However, the newt's prana was not endless, Saber knew. Which would fail first, Archer-Newt's Prana, or Assassin's defense?

Then Shiro landed in Saber's lap. "Eh?" She uttered in surprise, looking up to see the fading form of Rider atop Coco. Smiling at the thought of a true comrade, Saber slung Shiro over her shoulder. She may be too injured to fight, but she wasn't completely out of options. With a quick swipe she grabbed Archer-Newt. "We're retreating." She spoke the warning once.

"RUN AWAY!" She shouted, turning tail and sprinting away with Shiro flopping around over her shoulder and Archer-Newt clutched firmly in hand.

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It was much later Saber sat recovering from her wounds alone that she fought internally over the revelation of Sir Not-Appearing-in-this-film. A traitor and she never even knew. It was humiliating. She grit her teeth and swallowed any tears. "Saber." Shiro spoke, startling her. His hand was on her shoulder. Saber's heart eased at the kindness of her Master. Though he knew not why she suffered; his gentle wisdom knew she did, and thus he sought to comfort her. "Don't worry about those wounds. I prepared an old remedy that'll get you up and running in no time!" The cheer in his voice shattered the image of gentle wisdom. Sabers head jolted to look at her master and the remedy he held in his hand.

"Charred newt!"