Weber

The two of them made for a strange pair, walking down the road away from the mountaintop home. It would be difficult to find two men so un-alike in appearance and demeanor. The red-haired man was over 6 feet tall, hairy, bearded, and built like a Greek god. His bulging muscles were apparent even through his Admirable Grand Strategy promotional t-shirt. He stretched in the predawn light and patted his companion on the back, his massive hand swinging through the air with inhuman grace. The young man took the pat with only a small stumble. Slim and short, he looked like a stiff gust of wind might be enough to blow him over.

The large man said: "Weber," and gestured. They both squinted off towards the south, eyeing the light show. "Is it some code?"

11 mana flares gloated gloriously in the air. 4 flew first in violet, and as they slowly floated down on the wind, 7 more in green joined them.

Weber concentrated on the pattern, then realization flickered across his soft features. He opened his mouth to speak, then swallowed, then tried again. "It… it's standard magecraft signal language. 4 violet, 7 green. Success and victory, in immediate succession."

His right hand cradled his chin and he sat down on the half-wall that ran alongside the mountain highway. "Does this mean it's over? You would never announce your position like that with magic, not against… no, those flares are to the south. If the mediator were announcing our victory and inviting us to ask our Questions, those flares would come from the center of town… so the mediator didn't send the message…"

The large man interrupted, "it's not the mediator. Someone is setting the pace, declaring victory. They mean to claim the prize, and announce their intent to do so. They challenge us, with this brazen announcement. We must respond to the taunt, lest we acknowledge their claim."

"What of our allies?" countered Weber, "should we not consult with them?"

"They did not launch these flares," said the giant, "they lack the brazenness for something like this. And of our enemies, I doubt the beast would be conscious enough to issue a reasoned statement, nor understand the implications. No, this can only be the work of the Hero King, Gilgamesh. He alone has the claim, and it cannot go unmet. I, Alexander, The Conquering King, am the only manifested Heroic Spirit with the standing to contest it. Come, boy. We ride to battle."

Alexander the Great slashed his sword, and tore a gap in the membrane between this world and the next. An enormous black horse came galloping through, slowing to a halt by the warrior. It snorted, then nuzzled its head against the man's hand. The two of them were glorious together. Were there a King of Horses, this would be him- his muscles rippled, not bulged, beneath his stout black skin, and his grace seemed almost implausible on so great a frame. The scene was set for a glorious battle.

Weber turned away from the lights and his partner, his his small frame shaking with emotion. He raised his right hand, struggling to find words, and found himself interrupted and lifted bodily onto the horse.

"We don't have time for that kind of gesture, Weber," grunted Alexander. "Don't think I didn't see what you were thinking. Even after these battles, you have resupplied me well with mana. My Noble Phantasm, the Wisdom of Aristotle, burns strongly. Have no shame! We may yet need those Divined Seals. Do not squander them needlessly. You are my partner, my friend. We have stood side by side in battle, and shed blood together. We ride together now."

"I don't belong here," replied Weber, as he shifted around in the saddle. "This is a game between giants, and before our opponents, I am nothing. I would only slow you down."

Alexander laughed, his voice echoing along the empty street. "When we were lost in the mind-maze of Assassin, was it not you who unlocked his riddle and led us away from him? I knew not of Minotaur's secrets. And when we were hunting down Bluebeard, your own special power, the scientific method, helped us find his river lair. No, Weber, I cannot let you dismiss yourself. We are equals, each of us would be lost without the other."

Alexander punctuated his speech by clapping Weber on the back with a massive hand. Weber sighed. He wouldn't be getting out of this one so easily. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, and smiled. "Then, Alexander, my partner… let's go fight the wisest man who ever lived! Let us find victory!

—

Lina

Lina was confused, but she listened as he spoke. The dawn air was damp with the memory of fog. Fitting weather, for a woman with fogged memories.

"I know. You've told me everything, and you will, because you have already told me, and I have already told you. Let's go, to fight, to die and be born, to meet each other for the first time, and to say farewell." Emiya's smile was sad, and didn't reach his eyes.

She bowed in greeting.

"We can expect to be up against the Treasurer…. but my memories are clouded, my energy is low. I don't know what happened. The… the packet has what you need to know", said Lina, and she knew not why. They had just arrived. It was the right thing to say.. she remembered that bit, at least. Yes, Emiya reacted well to this. She needed more information from her future, from his past, but it was missing. Had the looped transfer failed? Would she not have time to give him information that he could give her later? Where was her Prana?

What was she doing?

Lina was pensive. Something was wrong, and she didn't know why— or rather, something was wrong, because she didn't know why. Lina's power was broken, her prophecy clouded by amnesia. This had never happened to Lina before. Alternative hypothesis: It had happened before, and she simply forgot. The thought chilled her to the bone. For all her magic, for all her transformations and spells and rituals, Lina was defined by her knowledge, by being unstuck in time. When she counseled the King, he was slow to understand the nature of her life, but she was still able to give him the knowledge she needed, to close the loop of Time needed to bring success.

Without her perception of time, they were doomed. cursed. She smiled with spite. That ever I was born to set things right!

"Are you ready to go? Anything wrong?" asked Emiya. Everything around him was packed up. What had ever needed so many cases and boxes? And why is the memory transfer broken?

From what she could remember, this Emiya fellow was extraordinarily helpful in that regard. The theory and knowledge of the future (past?) that he brought to the table made her nature substantially more valuable to the two of them. Lina remembered…. yes, she remembered now. When she first was summoned during the day, surrounded by rubble and death, weakened and without energy, the dark-haired man in front of her had presented her with papyrus— no, paper, it was now— bearing instructions for rituals of knowledge transfer, amongst other things. A Conceptual Grimoire, the perfect parting gift, and greeting gift. Emiya gave instructions… yes. He told her what to say. The steel-clad Automatic Grimoire was another gift. She had accepted it and…. done something. Now here she was, and the city was whole, and she was not.

Why do I have amnesia? Why can't I remember the last 5 hours? Why can't I reason? Why is there a fog on my mind?

"No, definitely not…I can't think of anything," she breathed. Her world was closing in. Who had done this to her? Who knew mind magic like this?

The dark-haired man finished cleaning his weapon— a pistol, the Conceptual Grimoire supplied— and turned to her. His familiarity with her was unnerving, but it told her what she needed to know. She would be working with him a great deal in her future, in his past. His words were formal, though, and something strange hung about them.

The magical energies of the Conceptual Grimoire began to feed into her, and she began to understand. This Grimoire was written in her future, and she had given it to Emiya to give it to her. The loop, as they always were, was stable. Her mind begins to flood with her own knowledge, fitted like a hand to a tailored glove…

"Merlina, I thank you again for helping me so far in this war. About the amnesia: as you requested, the laptop, information packets, and paper will all be ready for you at the end. Since we're getting closer and closer to the beginning of the war for you, and the end for me, you're further from figuring out why you have amnesia. Here are the messages you wanted to give me after you figured out what the messages I will give you meant. This last conversation, in particular, has been very valuable. Are there any last things you need information about?"

"Thank you, Emiya Kiritsugu. What can I do about my amnesia right now?

Lina smiled. He knew she knew him less with every passing minute, from her perspective, and his formality was appropriate. A man who knew the legend. We shall be great together. I will take great joy in knowing him.

Emiya chucked softly. "So you've told me. It's a wonder we had any trouble in this contest at all. They all had Noble Phantasms, but to think, when I summoned you, you had full knowledge of the war, and I knew nothing. Merlina was never a madwoman, just a magus living backwards through time. Interesting that your colleagues couldn't figure things out. Not worth worrying about now."

The memory packet uncurled more, as Merlina reassembled her scattered memories from the start of the war, from the climactic battle that began so many wars like it began with. She gasped with revelation, and had to tell him, had to tell him before it was too late:

"The grail is tainted, Emiya. It cares not for your values, and though it tells truths, they will be as ashes on your tongue should you repeat them. It wants only destruction, and though it will not lie, it will mislead you with truths more than any charlatan could with lies. There's more, I know so much more… I have to tell you now, the shape of your future."

Emiya said, "I see you're standing up already! Good, a good debriefing. I think I've told you everything you need to know until… until the last time we spoke, before the battle. Based on what you told me then, at least. Our time loops are still broken by the Reversed Causality that he brought against us, but at least this information exchange is working. I still have the memories of you telling me all the identities and of telling you all the identities just now. Now more than ever, for the final battle, you'll need to trust me and my knowledge of my past, your future, when I trusted you and you granted me the information I needed. I know my past, your future. We should move quickly, as you said."

The debriefing unraveled, and so did the memories, and Merlina remembered what she was going to do, the memories she passed to Emiya, and that he passed to her. Things were coming back, but this close to Gae Bolg's influence, the loop was unstable. It would never be stable, not until at least a day and a half from now, a day and a half ago. She looked over at the dark-haired man as he laid out his after-action report.

Here's a magus who can handle the loop. Here's one like me. What horrible fate befell him that he could be so nonchalant about my reversal of time? Who is he that this doesn't fear the challenge to free will and Fate that my existence represents? Who is he to share his past with me, that I might impact my future?

Emiya Kiritsugu, slayer of magi, continued his report, or rather, had been continuing his report. Eventually, things will wrap up with the beginning of the after-action report, then they will go to fight, and not to die. Despite his understanding of her Time, he pressed on.

Fate means nothing to a man like this.

Merlina sat, and joined her new master as they planned their war.