'Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!' Shirou knew he wasn't strong enough to take on a bloody Ancestor. That was like asking an ant to take down a raging rhinoceros. He would be flattened with hardly any effort. He had only one chance of escape, though he hated to use it. He slipped his left hand to retrieve an innocent-looking card and said, "Install, Archer!"
He was enshrouded in a flash of golden light as a red holy shroud covered his left arm and shoulders and his pants tightened into a more durable material. His body now matched that of EMIYA in parameters. D-Ranked strength, C-Ranked endurance, C for Agility, Mana was B-Ranked, and of course, his Luck was E. But it was the two class skills that were going to decide if he lived through the day. Clairvoyance C-Ranked and Mind's Eye(True) B-Ranked were going to detect and predict the enemy's movements. It was all that would allow him to anticipate the Ancestor's movements in time. He only survived the first strike because of luck and Rita didn't think he was skilled enough to dodge. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
"How interesting, boy. Maybe I chose the wrong magus. Say, would you care to join me at my side?" Rita proposed, looking at him like he was more an interesting sculpture she just had to buy than a person. Her question scared Douglas who was just now calming down from his screaming.
"No! You promised me!" He wailed.
"I promised you nothing. I offered you a bargain which you then failed to uphold," she sneered. She sharply inhaled to calm herself before adopting a sultry smile as if she hadn't just broken her facade as a noble lady. Her smile was as sinful as it was beautiful. A true temptress who could seduce a man with a few sweet words whispered in their ear and he would do anything to serve her just for a moment of her attention. She could ask them to empty their bank accounts or jump on a sword and they would probably be willing to do so, and that was without using her Mystic Eyes and telepathically controlling them.
She could trap him in her eyes or force him to experience her own horrors from her memories. Mentally torturing him for as long as she desired before releasing him. Pain…pleasure, anything she could think of he would experience it as if it was his own.
Fortunately, Shirou had a strong mental fortitude only further strengthened by a copy of a centuries old soul that was temporarily bonded to his own. EMIYA was about as sexually interested in women as a rabbit was to a fox. Meaning not at all and they would probably only end up trying to kill him. His luck with females was probably why he ranked so lowly in the Servant Stats, because they all ended up leaving or betraying him in the end. Shirou felt a glimmering warmth bubble at the thought of a blonde haired servant with green eyes before it was crushed under a mountain of bitterness and regret.
"Sorry, I have already been someone's bitch for long enough," words flew out of Shirou's mouth before he could control them. Those weren't his words. Fighting a hint of panic that he was already losing control of his mind, Shirou wrestled with his mouth and continued, "I don't agree with the idea of following someone else's orders if they go against my beliefs."
"Oh, what are those?" Rita asked amusedly, it wasn't very often she was turned down. This boy was proving to be more and more interesting. It wasn't like his consent mattered anyway, she always got what she wanted. The strong ruled the weak, and she was much stronger than the boy.
Shirou said nothing to the Ancestor. EMIYA's experiences warned him of revealing his wish to save others, it was only asking for the enemy to use innocents as hostages and limiting what weapons he could deploy to minimize casualties. The enemy hardly cared for such compunctions in innocents getting caught in the crossfire. In fact, they would often aim to do so if it would make him vulnerable or move to where they desired. So, Shirou said nothing and traced the two married blades, Kanshou and Bakuya, and shifted into EMIYA's preferred fighting stance.
He would allow the servant to "take the wheel" so to speak against such a foe. While not truly controlling his actions, it was more than the identity and memories that Shirou acknowledged as EMIYA was dominantly brought to the "foreground" in decision-making, knowing the Counter Guardian stood a far more likely chance of getting them…HIM! Getting himself out alive. His influence was hard to separate on a normal day without a threat to his existence of living. But it was meaningless if he remained the dominant mind and died anyway to this Apostle. Cursing his circling thoughts, Shirou bit the bullet and prayed for the best as he channeled EMIYA's influence hopefully without being consumed by the Heroic Spirit.
"Not talking? And here I was thinking you were so chatty with our darling duckling over there," she mocked the injured magus.
Shirou said nothing but wanted to grimace at the fact that she'd been watching their chase. He hoped she had only just met them in time to save Douglas, but now she had an idea of how he fought…no, wait. She had an idea of how Shirou fought, not EMIYA. EMIYA allowed the enemy to make mistakes and counter-attacked at the right moment, using their own power and fighting experience against themselves, Shirou attacked head-on and looked for an opening. The difference sounded slight but was implemented vastly differently. Hopefully, she wouldn't figure out the difference in time for him to either escape or, if he was lucky, kill her.
"Don't turn boring on me now, boy. I am looking forward to what you can really do with such an…interesting body."
If Shirou wasn't maintaining an iron-like discipline in his mind he would have felt violated. The roving eyes that felt like they peered into his very soul, perhaps that was because he knew they could if she decided to activate her Mystic Eyes of Roses. It was unsettling, feeling like his secrets were being laid bare. He wanted to move, to engage, or to flee, but EMIYA made him stay still; rooted more firmly to the ground than a centuries-old oak tree and twice as solid. Shirou waited for Rita to finish her inspection before her red eyes pulsed.
A massive stone sword that was wielded by a giant in Britannia before King Uther took the throne was Projected between the two of them. The only downside to Rita's Mystic Eyes was she had to have sight of her opponent. Shirou Traced a small dagger. The dagger was made by a novice magus who wanted revenge against a rival. It created a dense black cloud of smoke in seconds. It would only last a few more seconds before she cleared it away, but it was enough. Lost in the shadows, Shirou Traced one more dagger, this time a far more famous one used by Arturia Pendragon to remain unseen in the shadows.
A different bow, a nameless black one that EMIYA used for centuries to fire his Noble Phantasms, was Projected into existence alongside a favorite of his, Caladbolg II, the Fake Spiraling Sword permanently altered into a corkscrew shape for his intended use as an arrow against difficult foes. Oftentimes the last thing an enemy sees is a rainbow spiraling towards them before their body is ripped to pieces in the space distortion.
Shirou drew back the arrow and filled it with as much Od as he could, transforming it, breaking it into a Broken Phantasm. The Apostle turned to look at him with a smile and look of wonder at the weapon aimed at her. She laughed just before Shirou fired. The Broken Phantasm traveled at the speed of Mach 4, the Apostle just had enough time to shift to the left and half of her torso and right arm were gone, caught up in the Spiraling Sword as it continued on and exploded after destroying three hills. The only reaction the Apostle displayed was a quirk of the eyebrow before time reversed on her wounds until even her dress was back in pristine condition.
'Fucking Apostles.'
But anger would do nothing to help him in this fight. Shirou discarded the emotion as weapons capable of inflicting wounds incapable of being healed by magecraft were brought to the front of his consciousness.
'Gáe Bolg?' It was known as 'the barbed spear that pierces the heart' because of the thorns it sends through the victim's body. Rita was known as the Rose Princess because of her ability to control thorns. It would be the height of irony to be killed by her own ability…but it was too risky. If even the slightest chance remained where her Idea Blood could somehow shift the target of the spear, then he would have closed the distance for nothing and put his head on the metaphorical chopping block. Standing face to face with an enemy that can control minds through telepathy, perhaps not the smartest decision he could make.
Another Irish spear came to mind, the sister to the one he has used plenty of times in his life. Gáe Buidhe was known as the Golden Rose of Mortality, but it had the same problem.
'Harpé it is then,' Shirou decided. Created by the primordial Gaia and given to her son Kronos to slay his father before it was stolen by Zeus who repeated his father's deed in committing patricide. Zeus gifted it to his son Perseus, forever changing the Divine Weapon into a sword that could be used by mortal blood and was used to slay Medusa before Perseus grew old and passed it on to his son. From there it descended down his bloodline before a magus murdered the descendant in his sleep and stole the weapon as spoils of war. A few generations later EMIYA was deployed to stop the summoning of an extra-dimensional being by the magi's family and found the weapon in their workshop. From then on EMIYA used the weapon as a tool to kill immortal beings or opponents who had a particularly strong healing factor.
A memory flashed, a darkly armored King of Knights who waged a path of war and tyranny in her subjugation against the enemy and her people. She threatened the balance of humanity and EMIYA was deployed to kill the woman he loved, even if she was corrupted into something he could hardly recognize. The tears he shed when-
Wrenching his focus back to the present with a snarl, Shirou Traced Harpé in his right hand and the smoke dagger in the other, the smoke obscured their vision and once again drew Carnwennan to vanish into the shadows. Using the secondary function of the dagger Shirou threw the dagger blindly to the side as it can hone in on an unseen target. With Shirou running to the right and the dagger striking her from the left, he hoped to strafe her before she realized he'd been duped, but it was too late. The dagger stabbed her side, but she ignored it in favor of tracking him.
She unconcernedly grasped the hilt and tugged the blade from her flesh without a flinch. But more importantly, Shirou was within her reach. Shirou swung Harpé hoping to decapitate her without her being concerned about its ability, but Rita was arrogant, not stupid. She did not survive for so long in ignoring her senses, warning her of a potential threat.
She wanted to scoff that this weakling thought he could harm her. She was angry that the weapon he held actually could. But just because the weapon could kill her, did not mean the wielder was capable of succeeding.
Rita retreated, taking a couple steps backward as the weakling threatened her life. It was humiliating, like giving a toddler a handgun. The threat was still there, but for all intents and purposes the adult should be able to overpower the child. Her humiliation wracked and boiled as she activated her Mystic Eyes against someone so far beneath her, but caution forced her to take it seriously.
Her vision pulsed red as this time she was "forced" to use her eyes against the boy. Shirou was a moment away from taking her head off before his limbs froze, the feeling of paralysis permeating throughout his being. All that remained was red, colored as beautiful as a summer rose, Shirou felt his mind go numb as his consciousness retreated within his own mind.
Shirou stared in wonder at the sunny world. Half of the sky was taken up by polluted clouds, flying in the air beside massive gears that rotated lazily in the production of swords, awaiting their master's command. Grass covered the highest hill surrounded by the weapons of King Arthur's Round and four other weapons. A black katana, a former stave turned into a bow, a crimson Irish spear, and a sword capable of unleashing massive blasts of wind. At the highest peak, as if replicating the original's feat, was the Sword of Selection, Caliburn. Golden mana pulsed from its blade and suffused the grass with a holy splendor, like wheat turning a golden hue in the change of seasons. His introspection was cut short by the footsteps beside him.
Dark skin, silvery-white hair, grey eyes, and a nearly emotionless expression was all Shirou needed to see to know he was staring at his counterpart from a possible future. But it was the woman staring at them from a dozen feet away that truly held the two's attention. Her platinum blonde hair swayed in the breeze that ruffled the grass and blew the clouds, her white dress and thorn embroidered sash lazily moving as well. If before she was interested in Shirou, then it could be said she was downright "thirsty" for him now…in more ways than one.
Her anger, while not gone, was put to the side as she instead focused on the boy who had a nearly fully developed Reality Marble. It was close, a few more years and Rita had no doubt he would be able to replace Gaia's space with his own. This was how Shirou saw the world.
'Roses do need a good bit of sunlight to truly flourish,' the artist in Rita commented. She would have him. She will have him, she had to have him.
'Mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. You are going to be mine!' She smiled euphorically at the boy, no, her future servant before her. He would be her bed warmer and personal servant to love her and destroy her enemies with whatever weapon was needed. Then when he matured a little more she would turn him into a vampire to forever stay by her side.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" She laughed joyously at the boy, her future mate, before her. He would worship her forever. Under her feet. He would never be an equal because she turned him, but that also had its other uses. She smiled at the thought of what she could force him to do to her, make him desire her above all things in life. She would be his goddess. She shivered in delight as she imagined what he would be doing with his tongue and the sensations he would create with his…other appendages and organs.
A few meters away Shirou and EMIYA were stuck in both disgust and fear at the being before them. The Idea Blood of Rita allowed her to read an opponent's mind by bringing her mind into her target's or her target into her eyes. This was a two way street in that she could read her opponent's thoughts whilst exposing her own…should she ever let her guard down. Shirou heard what she was thinking and felt like they were his own.
Slowly the thoughts turned into suggestions and he felt his will start to weaken. EMIYA placed an iron grip on his shoulder, temporarily halting the effect, but even that only went so far. The (Fake) Archer Card could only hold a copy of the soul, it was not the true servant standing beside him. Thus, under the power of the Apostle Shirou could feel the barriers in his mind start to weaken. He did everything he could think of to halt her progress. He imagined the swords in UBW to attack her, but they harmlessly were deflected off a bubble around her. Shirou was stunned.
'They were Noble Phantasms, how was she able to do that?'
But they weren't truly there. This was nothing but Shirou's mind forced into the shape and appearance of UBW as it currently exists. His soul knows what it looks like even if his consciousness did not. Memories not his own echoed within his soul.
"If you do not have a weapon capable of defeating your enemy, imagine one that will." Said by an archer to an incompetent version of himself who did not even know he had his own magic circuits, so he used his nerves to perform his magecraft. If he did not have a sword that could kill Rita, imagine one that could. A sword that could cut through the physical form of memories of a Dead Apostle Ancestor.
Shirou searched his world for such a weapon, his consciousness cast out as a net reading dozens, hundreds of weapons seen and discarded with a glance. The hundreds turned to thousands of useless weapons as he despaired that he would lose to this sadistic vampire. Shirou felt his mind completely empty just as the answer was found. EMIYA pushed the image of a dagger, purple and curved in such a way as to never be used in battle. A ritualistic dagger created by the Witch of Betrayal that could sever magical contracts and effects who hated the gods for forcing her to love a man and discarded her when it was convenient. It was as if history was repeating itself. Shirou saw the image within his mind so clearly…and yet it might as well be on the other side of the Earth. He was too late to find it. Shirou, with all his stubbornness, lost in a battle of wills against the centuries old vampire who specialized in dominating the will of others. It was only a matter of time before she won, though his resistance was impressive to Rita. It had been decades before someone could put up such a fight and they were an Ancestor like her. But Shirou was not without allies.
Though scheduled to arrive the next morning, a female Executor's intuition told her that she would be too late to find her target. Arriving in the village almost an hour after Shirou fired his first arrow, a blue haired young woman who looked about the age of 18, once possessed by Michael Roa Valdamjong, the so-called 28th Ancestor by the Church before being exorcized from the host body. She joined as part of the burial agency in payment, gratitude, and the desire to see no one else experience what she had gone through, which eventually led her to becoming one of their top agents.
She was witness to a path of destruction spreading through the countryside, already people had gathered to the scene in fear and wonder at what had done such a thing. A quick application of magecraft, something her Church highly frowned upon, led the people to 'blame a meteorite that burned up on impact. The government had already investigated and removed the irradiated rock for further study.' The people would talk about the strange event they didn't see and eventually be forgotten as nothing more than a dream or conspiracy theorist because of course the government wouldn't talk about a meteorite that fell to the Earth and left no trace. 'It had to be aliens,' some would cry, and thus further discredit the possibility of something strange actually being there.
Instead of a fight against Douglas Hosselholf, she found herself engaging an Apostle Ancestor. While not the first time, she has fought three and came out the victor in each one while stealing their Idea Blood as a side effect, it is hardly a common Tuesday afternoon activity. Staring motionlessly into space was a red and white haired boy who looked around fifteen, perhaps sixteen judging by his height and face. The object on his shoulders was what really grabbed her attention because she knew it was currently within her possession. The Shroud of Martin. A purely defensive cloth that protects one against the elements, demonic energy, and weaker forms of magecraft.
Her thoughts of how he had it were derailed as she ducked from a slash from the nails that could rip through steel and threw a half dozen black keys at the Apostle. The wounds sizzled from the holy light but did little damage before her magic overwhelmed the light and time reversed itself in her wounds. She couldn't go through an actual ritual sacrament to sever whatever binding or spell on the boy, but she had studied effects that could temporarily aid one caught within such situations. It would disrupt the flow of magic energy within a being. It was dangerous, akin to an attack on the other individual, but it would hopefully be enough. After all, if he had a sword raised in such a position, he had to have some strength. Judging by the angle he was facing and the position of his arms he got within a couple meters of her. Against an Ancestor, every inch is a struggle, and that's not even mentioning the damage across the ground for the last several miles. Another liberal use of black keys and her iron plate effect combined with martial arts separated the two with Ceil standing beside the man.
Rita could only look in horror and anger at what happened next. Ceil slammed her hand against Shirou's diaphragm causing him to instinctively cough up the blood suddenly in his lungs, clarity briefly returning to his mind, Shirou projected Rule Breaker and stabbed his arm. The Rose Princess's thaumaturgy was canceled…along with Archer's card. Reduced back to the parameters of a normal magus, but still armed with Harpé and the most minimal of injuries, Shirou didn't even spare a nod to the Executor as the two pincered the Apostle. Shirou led with a dozen nameless swords that he fired from midair.
'That skill would certainly be handy to learn,' Shirou thought, shooting a continuous stream of plain swords like a light machine gun. While the swords proved almost useless in damaging her skin, the impact rattled Rita enough to allow Ceil to close the distance. Ciel stabbed her legs with a few black keys, the holy energy bypassing her defense to temporarily pin the vampire, but before she could follow up her attack Shirou severed her head and then bisected the rest of her body down the middle for good measure.
Ceil was stunned for a moment. The fluidity of his movements belonged to a man who spent decades swinging a sword, not a fifteen-ish child. Then came the knowledge that the boy just killed an Ancestor. She may look 18, but she was nearly 25 in actuality. She had only survived and killed the other Ancestors because she could not "die." Her death causes a paradox upon the world and so she is "revived" as if it never happened as long as Roa still exists in this world. It did not matter that she was slaughtered a dozen times if she still killed her target.
This boy, no, this man was able to push her to use her strongest ability without being wounded beyond a few scratches. Even if she wasn't aiming to kill him, it is still impressive that he remained so unscathed. Ceil would have to keep her eye on this one. She watched as the boy/man collapsed to the ground as the Idea Blood transferred to the one who dealt the fatal blow. Before he lost consciousness Ceil asked him what his name was. It was clear he didn't understand French by the, "what?" in Japanese, so she smiled as she repeated it in his mother tongue.
"Emiya," he said as his eyes fluttered closed.
"Ha. Kiri's boy. My superiors will either hate you or love you…perhaps even both at the same time. Come on, it's time to get you cleaned up. And then you can answer me why you had that shroud."
Naturally Shirou didn't say anything because he was unconscious. Ciel effortlessly lifted him onto her shoulders and took off to her temporary base. And where was Douglas in all this? He was a smear on the ground caught between Ciel and Rita's explosive fight. Neither had paid it much mind when he was torn to ribbons when Rita dodged a swipe from her fistful of swords. Another bounty Ciel could collect, and she intended on bartering it with Shirou when he woke up. Greed was a sin many partook in, maybe she would get lucky?
Ciel used her magecraft to study any lingering effects of the Idea Blood within the still-unconscious Shirou. She would be disappointed in herself if she heard that somehow a remaining subconscious order by the Apostle made him go out on a murder spree. One of the things that makes Ciel such a powerful mage was her extraordinary magic circuits that were comparable to the Barthemeloi's Blue Blood: Noble Magic Circuits. If a normal magus could channel 20 units through their circuits, hers was 5000. In comparison to Rin Tohsaka, someone who one day would be recognized by the Clock Tower as a genius, was only capable of generating 1000 units at the maximum. So it was quite a surprise to find Shirou, despite only having 27 magic circuits, having the ability to generate up to 1500 units.
'They were strange,' Ceil thought. 'There's something connected to them that makes me think of a dragon? Is he a descendant of something non-human? Japan was known to have a high population of those descended from demons.'
Most lived peaceful lives though, so unless they proved themselves to be a threat to humanity the Church turned a blind eye to their existence. But still it had been some time since she had heard of someone "new" to the magi world possessing such power. The Blue Blood circuits were a family trait that was passed down generation after generation to reach the potential it is now. It was almost unheard of for someone new to the moonlit world to have such circuits. As a follower of God, Ceil believed people were either born or attained power for a reason. She was wary of the future knowing that Shirou's power would be required to clash against whatever threat was heading their way. If there is a hero born to the world there was be an equal villain to face him otherwise a hero is just a regular man.
After a thorough scan that confirmed Shirou was free from any influence of Rita's, she at last allowed herself to rest as she wrote a report to her superiors in the Church's Burial Agency. They needed to know that an Ancestor had fallen to get ready for the power vacuum of the higher ranked vampires infighting to claim her position. She prayed it didn't create a bloodbath that caught innocents in the crossfire, but she was realistic. The Executors and Burial Agency were going to be overworked until things finally calmed down. It had the feeling as though she just lit the fuse to a powder keg when she sent her report through a familiar to her superiors as she maintained her watch over Shirou. He still had to answer her questions.
Ceil placed an alarm around Shirou to alert her when he woke up and then drifted off to sleep. It felt like she had just closed her eyes when the alarm jolted her awake. She noticed the morning light was just peeking through the window as she looked down at her fellow magus.
"Good morning," Ceil said, bringing Shirou to full alertness.
'It was the girl who helped me yesterday,' Shirou noted. "Good morning. I guess I have you to thank for not being turned into a mindless sex doll for a vampire," Shirou joked, the strangeness of his life was not lost on him. He never thought he would ever say such a thing in his life. Ceil's twitching lip was a good sign for him though as she fought to keep a smile off her face. Unfortunately it soon disappeared behind a look of seriousness.
"Emiya, we need to talk," Ceil said. Shirou cast a wary eye over her. That phrase never bode well for anyone. "Are you aware of the situation you're in?"
"What do you mean by 'situation?'"
"Emiya, you just killed one of the Ancestors. As someone who has had to deal with the fallout of killing three of them, let me tell you it is not pretty. Everyone in Rita Rozay-en's clan will be coming after you to either make a name for themselves and claim her position, or out of revenge born out of misplaced love. Her title as the Rose Princess wasn't just because of her abilities, she has a lot of followers who would kill and die for her. And you just killed the object of their affections."
Shirou grit his teeth. This was literally the last thing he wanted! He was just defending himself from arguably one of the most dangerous individuals in the world. Why does this have to happen to him?
"Nothing to say?" Ceil asked. "Fine. Let's move on to another topic. The shroud you wore on your shoulders. How did you get it?" Shirou contemplated how to answer that without revealing too many secrets, but figured that he did owe her for saving his life.
"I primarily use Projection to fight. Zelretch showed me the shroud from another reality."
"The Old Man of the Jewels, huh? Well, it makes me feel a bit better knowing you didn't steal from the church. If you did I'd have to kill you."
Shirou froze. Why did he keep meeting potentially homicidal females? Did he piss some deity off in a formal life? Wait, of course he did. EMIYA was proof of that. Shirou laughed nervously at her threat praying it was a joke, but her face retained her serious look.
"But, still…I'm impressed you managed to copy such a thing where I couldn't even tell the difference. You must be a good mage."
"No! I'm a horrible mage. I just know a couple things that I constantly train in."
"Strong and humble. You're quite a keeper aren't you, Emiya?" Ceil winked. Shirou flushed to the roots of his hair and stuttered out a weak denial.
"Fear the man who trains one punch a thousand times instead of a man who trains a thousand punches once."
'I don't think that's how Bruce Lee said it, but I know what you mean,' Shirou thought.
Ceil stood up and started pacing all the while looking down at his sitting figure. She reached an internal decision before she nodded and said, "I would like to make a deal with you. In exchange for Douglas' bounty and a future favor, I'll give you this." Ceil held up the real Shroud of Martin in her hands. Shirou's eyes widened. Was this who EMIYA had gotten the Shroud from in his life?
"Why would I offer up a favor for something I can trace already?"
"You mean other than the mana cost of sustaining it throughout a fight and the fact that I saved your life?" Ceil returned, which Shirou had to concede to her point.
"Throw 400 pounds in and we have a deal." At Ceil's raised brow Shirou added, "Flights are expensive." For some reason Ceil couldn't stop laughing at the ridiculous comment but shook his hand regardless. Douglas was worth several thousand, so it was pocket change really. Besides, Ceil didn't really need the money. It was just a way to get a potential favor, and her gut instinct that said Shirou would need that shroud one day.
A lonely, steel eyed man standing on a hill of swords with a dozen swords stabbed into his back. Forever making weapons- Ceil snapped out of her daze as the memory popped into her head as she inspected Shirou earlier for any contamination. As a religious person who prayed for others to find happiness, Ceil prayed Shirou would not end up like the man in her visions. It was too cruel a fate for someone with such a noble soul.
"Goodbye, Emiya," Ceil said as evening rolled around. After arriving at the nearest town, the two had eaten lunch that Shirou prepared that could tempt even a pious woman like her to sin from the sheer taste. She was no glutton, but even she wanted thirds. She argued to herself that the first somehow disappeared after the first bite. When she realized the rest was gone she had to get another sandwich to taste the delicacy. Honestly. Shirou was generous enough to leave her the package containing more sandwiches because as he said, "planes don't allow food onboard." It was a good enough reason for her to accept his gift with a thankful nod. Now if only it would last before she got home…oooh that sandwich tasted delicious! Ceil almost wanted to cry as she realized she ate them all.
'But it is better this way,' she tried to tell herself. 'I would be sinning otherwise. I can't ever meet him again lest I do something I would regret. Still though, that was some devilishly good food. No! Shirou, why?' Ceil really started crying as she departed the town back to France to meet the other Burial Agency members for another upcoming hunt.
Shirou was oblivious to her internal rants as he departed in the other direction to the nearest airport slipping on the Shroud of Martin under his jacket. One aspect of the Shroud was protection from the weather, so Shirou enjoyed the scenery now that he wasn't currently engaged in combat or afraid of the chilly weather picking up at night. Shirou enjoyed a night amongst the stars as he set up camp on the side of the road and at last let the tension of the last few days disappear. He couldn't see the future, so he could only take it one step at a time and hope he didn't screw everything up.
It would take a little while before the world learns it was him that killed Rita, and it would take even longer for them to discover where he lived. The number of people who knew that was less than a dozen, so he wasn't too afraid of Apostles tracking him back to his home, it would likely be when he is hunting down other heretics that his location would be revealed to the wider world. With that cheerful thought, Shirou felt the darkness creeping over his vision as he once again dreamed of a beautiful golden haired woman with responsibilities far too heavy a burden placed on her shoulders in a country that couldn't help but destroy itself. Shirou felt her struggles as if they were his own. Her joy at seeing her people laughing in the streets, and her pride as she and her knights rode into battle on horseback to defend those same happy souls when the enemy was finally driven from her lands. He also felt her pain, as betrayal racket her heart at seeing her country torn in two and her 'son' defy her and the final moment as they both stabbed their weapons into each other.
Clarent and Rhongomyniad. They were such beautiful weapons, they could only have belonged to the nobility. They both joined the circle surrounding the peak of the hill in Unlimited Blade Works. Shirou sat beside Arturia's spear and felt all of her feelings bleed into his own. Shirou was probably the only one who knew that "the perfect king doesn't understand her people" couldn't be further from the truth. She did not know how to convey her insecurities to others when she felt as if she had to remain the sole pillar of Camelot's prosperity. She had to be a good role model for others even when she wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees and weep at the loss of her countrymen she ordered into battle, or cry out for forgiveness to her friend Lancelot du Lac and her wife Guinevere for the suffering she pushed on them. Shirou wished he was there to take away her pain that he felt as his own, but she had died millennia ago and there was nothing he could do.
'But still,' Shirou thought as he laid a hand on the hilts of Arturia's spear and sword, 'I wish I could help you- no.' he shook his head. 'I wish to save you.'
[AN: I feel like this is a chapter where half the people will be screaming, "Bullshit! That was too easy for an ancestor!" So I hope this satisfies your curiosity about my decision. First being that Rita didn't want to kill him. If you try to fight someone weaker than you without beating them into a bloody pulp, you have to severely limit what attacks you can use. The second is that Rita is arrogant. She didn't think Shirou had a weapon that could truly kill her until she pretty much already subjugated his will. Third being that Ceil is a threat that could destroy pretty much half the fate community. The paradox surrounding her undeath/immortality thing is just ridiculously OP it is not even funny. So Rita was more focused on subduing her than killing Ceil because she knew about her abilities to revert damage as if it never happened.
When it comes to Shirou's magic circuits, that goes back to chapter one where the remaining od/mana within Avalon replaced Shirou's empty soul/circuits with Arturia's. I believe that the mana would essentially supercharge his circuits to "match its soul" which is actually Saber's. Then when you add tracing and these memories left in the soul you essentially have the bleeding effect from Assassins creed.
Please review what you hated and loved! As always, this is EmberPhoenix signing off. :]
