Chapter 1- Banquet of Nightmares

Act I

The young boy was sleeping peacefully while tucked in his favorite blanket. Inside his head was a dream that he always loved to have. A dream of a typical young boy of the age of 9: a dream of fantasy. Like the heroes he had watched on movies and cartoons, he wanted to be like them. Although being a hero of justice was not in his sights, all he wanted was simply to be able to save people and honor the good. . .because of his mother's words.

"Those who do well are loved by God."

His parents were never religious. He hardly saw them ever praying. . .

Yet, it all began a year ago, that they started believing at least, in His existence.

Odd, he thought, but for a young boy it wasn't much of a business than thinking about toys one would buy.

But, this fleeting dream was suddenly halted in a brief shock to his body.

He smelled a powerful odor. It was like that of the burned bread his mother had baked last week. Or, it was like that of the burning cloth when his parents were doing something on the basement. It was like the smell of a candle burning.

It was the smell of fire.

His sensations were heated by a warm feeling. . .and that feeling was getting hotter every moment.

He slowly opened his eyes.

It was so sudden that it startled him.

From the fantastic dream that he had, as if reality tore his world, Hell came and greeted him.

"Good Morning class, as of today, you will be joined by a new student."

A nun with somewhat elderly looking face, around her late 40's, with eyeglasses and a bible on hand, stood in front of the classroom as she announced.

There was a slight buzz across the room as students whispered among each other. After all, it was weird for someone to transfer as late as this in this time of the year.

"I hope he is a guy. A really hot one."

Kasumi whispered to Kirara as she glanced at her friend who was sitting to her right.

"Those kind of guys are usually the dick ones, Kasumi."

Unlike the former, Kirara showed no interest and simply returned to her scribbling on her notebook.

However, she let out a quiet question as she continued her scribbling, "Don't you find it weird that Mother Selena is acting quite nicely to this new transferee"

"Come in, Sir."

Mother Selena gestured as a young boy with red hair with an appearance of similar age to the people in the class entered. He stopped midway just beside the nun and turned to his left to face the classroom. He smiled; it was a pleasant smile, not that smile you would find in an ordinary teenager.

"I am Shirou, 18 years of age and a foreign transfer from Italy. Due to my legal guardian transferring to the old Church in this city, I have come here as well and enrolled per his instruction. I hope to get along with everyone as we serve God with all our hearts."

After introducing himself, he bowed . . .too much, as if he was a really 'down to earth' person.

Everyone on the classroom was silent. Their impression was a mixture of awe and disbelief. Why? Well, for someone of his age in this generation, he was religious. . too religious. This was similar to all except Kirara. She did hear about the 'old Church' in the city. And, out of all the churches in the city, only one old church came to her mind. With that, her eyes were fixed with the newcomer.

"Mr. Gagliardi is also serving the old Church as an apprentice. Please do get along with him as the Church will be opening soon. As for you Sir, please occupy the seat behind Miss Seikatsu."

Mother Selena raised her hand gesturing at Kirara's direction. Shirou nodded and bowed at the nun, whispering a thank you, before walking towards the vacant seat. As he approached the SeikatsuKirara, he let out a smile and stretched out his hand, "I hope we can get along, Miss Seikatsu."

There was a slight accent on his voice confirming that he was really from another country. Yet, his appearance is really similar to a Japanese teenager.

"Yes, likewise. I am Seikatsu Kirara. Nice to meet you, Gagliardi-san."

"Just Shirou is fine. I'm not used with these honorifics."

He answered with a sheepish smile.

At lunch time, students swarmed Shirou's desk as if he was a single flower on a forest filled with bees.

"Say, did you really just come here in Japan?"

"Why do you have a Japanese first name if you are from Italy?"

"Are you aiming to become a priest too?"

The teenager was overwhelmed by these machine guns of questions. After all, this was the second time he had ever been in a classroom. He never attended school when he was a young boy since he was home schooled while when he was with his legal guardian then, he attended a seminary which had students who were almost never interested with each other.

"Wait, which question came first? I'm sorry. Ah, yes I did. My mother was a Japanese. If God wills it, I will."

As hard as he could, he tried to answer all questions one by one.

And then, as more people compressed themselves over Shirou, the latter felt the sudden urge to run away. But, that would be disrespectful for these classmates of his.

Suddenly, someone shouted, "HEY! Shinzou Kagami is on the gym practicing for the Sports Meet! Come see quick!"

With that, everyone stormed off like a pack of wolves.

"Wow."

Was all Shirou could utter.

"Are you okay?"

His savior asked as she approached him.

"Quite. Thank you for the help, Miss Seikatsu Kirara. But, lying for something like that is a sin."

"Just call me Seikatsu or Kirara. And, no, do not force that to me since I saved your life right about now."

"Okay. It seems not everyone here is as faithful as I had thought to be."

"Yeah, sorry you are wrong, Bible boy. Anyway, want to grab lunch?"

Shiroucoughed at SeikatsuKirara's remark but he was not insulted by it. Seeing as it's a chance to look around, he accepted the lady's offer.

"Sure, why not."

As the pair walked through the building hallways, Kirara introduced Shirou to the rooms, buildings, and important places and directions of the school.

Overall, it was a thankful moment for the teenage boy as he would have no need to ask for a teacher to guide him if he were at lost.

"Thank you very much."

He said as he took a bite on the sandwich he had bought. They are now peacefully eating at the school cafeteria.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"The old church you were referring to. . .was that the church near the Fukakaina mountains?"

"Indeed. Apparently, an old colleague of my guardian's mentor used to own that yet after some incident many decades ago, he passed it on. So, the Holy Church gave the order to my guardian to oversee it. . .that's what I'm told anyway. What about it?"

Kirara was lost in thought on how to answer that question but somehow was able to find an excuse as a reply.

"Ah, because my family owned the area to the north of it, and my house is just over there. Do you see the high slope when you look onward?"

Shirou nodded as he did affirm that he once saw a huge house. . .no, a mansion.

"So you are from a rich family?"

"Not really," she denied, "we just have a long history in this city."

"Is that so?" Curious, the teen wanted to ask Kirara further about her family but restrained himself as it would invade her privacy. Abruptly, however, pain filled his hand, like last night, losing the handle on the sandwich he was eating.

"Anything wrong?"

"It's my hand. It has getting aches lately. It might probably be due to carrying a lot of things."

"The nurse's office is on the third floor, if you want I could bring you there?" Kirara offered but Shirou declined, "No, class will resume soon. I can handle this. Thank you very much."

The sun was close to setting as the sky turned bright orange. Students left the academy through the exit one by one while some stayed for club activities. Since Shirou has obligations on the Church, he left early without even checking which club to join. As he walked down the slope towards the modern houses area of the suburban district, Shirou passed by a girl n on a hooded cloak who was sitting on the road. The cloak appeared to be dusty and old as it appears more as a large rag rather than clothing. Since the teen was educated with the sympathy of giving to the poor, he paused in front of the girl and took from his back a sandwich he intended to eat for later. He also had another one for Father Simon later.

"Please, take it. You must be hungry."

He offered to the girl. She had pale skin but she wasn't thin and seemed a bit healthy. However, the teen felt that this girl was lonely. For some reason, pain etched through his heart when he saw this girl.

"You are a kind soul," the girl murmured then having noticed the teen's attire, he asked, "you are a student? A Christian?"

"Yes and yes," he answered proudly, "it's to my heart to serve the poor as it is how God wills me."

Hearing that, the girl chuckled, "ah, the people of today seemed to believe everything is a will by him."

He was surprised by that statement, however, he wasn't insulted by it. If it was Father, then maybe, but to him, he believes that you cannot truly make everyone follow the righteous path. If you can guide them, guide them. If they ought not to, then it's wrong to force people to follow a faith they do not wish to receive and to serve.

"Do not be insulted, young boy," the girl advised, "he doesn't will. . . .he tests."

The girl said as she took a bite on the sandwich he gave.

"Maybe he does."

He whispered back.

"Be sure not to catch the cold. If you need a place to stay or food to eat, the Church's door is always open for you."

He cheerfully said as he smiled at the girl before turning around and walking back home. It was a day maker for him to help someone at least even once in a day.

For some reason, the teen felt a chill and as if listened to something he shouldn't have heard.

Turning his head, he looked back to the girl, but was unable to see seer. She was gone.

He thought it was weird but maybe the girl had left after eating. Truly, it was a mystery. . .

Still, he can't shake off from his mind the words he had heard.

"I can never enter that place."

Was what she said.

Night came and he was cleaning shelves on the basement level of the old Church. As he was piling up old books after another, pain started swelling up from his right hand.

"Again with this," he whispered as rubbed it with his other hand. He thought that it was merely fatigue, or worse, sprain, due to constant cleaning and organizing in the Church's maintenance but the main had yet to stop since the night before.

While he was staring at his painful hand, his eyes accidentally gazed at an enigmatic book on top of the table. He may have missed it as he was taking them out from the shelves but now he realized that it was different from the other materials. The rest were books concerning biblical texts and theological studies and some were also references about medicine, this book was very much different.

Taking the book, he wiped some dust concealing the cover and its title with his free hand. He read the title, "Secrets of the Three Arts", and then he noticed the marking behind the words. It was a magic circle.

"This is. . .preposterous!"

He exclaimed. It's a taboo among Christians to believe on the existence of the arcane. It was blasphemy.

Even so, he cannot help but be drawn with the book's existence as if it was calling for him to read it. As he was about to open it, footsteps were heard coming from the stairs five steps from his position. Instinctively, he hid the book on one of the empty shelves and covered it with other books before composing himself to appear as if nothing had happened.

"How was your cleaning here, Shirou? I hope these old books didn't give you trouble," an old man wearing a priest's vestments addressed the teen.

"Not really, Father. Apart from the dusts and cockroaches, it was not a problem."

He said as he took a cloth from his pocket and wiped his face.

"By the way young lad, I want to ask you a favor," Father Simon said to the teen. His eyes seemed to wander far from their current locaton.

" I wish for you to run an errand for me. . .although I doubt a store would still be open at this hour."

"I believe the one downtown, the 24-hour grocery my classmates were talking about, would still be open."

"Mhm. . .," the priest leveled his head down as if he was thinking.

"Father? Is there anything wrong?"

"Nothing," the priest answered, "I wish for you to buy us a great supper. Yes, it may be late but for a great meal, no time can be later."

"So that bread I gave you wasn't enough?" The teen remarked while laughing. He too was feeling the hunger.

"Young lad, your stomach cannot lie!"

Without any opposition, Shirou took the offer and went out of the Church and took an old but still usable bicycle. According to the Father, it was owned by a young boy who used to go to this Church many years ago.

It was 9: 35 pm and the distance between the downtown area and the Church was almost thrice the distance between his school and the latter.

"I have to be fast," he said to himself. After all, knowing the Father, hunger was his greatest enemy.

Riding under the beautiful night sky, as the glimmering stars shower overhead, the young man was unaware of the circling fate that covers his light.

"I forgot my wallet."

He said to himself as he stopped pedaling.

Sighing heavily, he turned back the bicycle towards the direction of the Church.

He prayed that the Father would not be disappointed by his careless mistake. Hunger could not be a reason for forgetting something as important as one's instrument for buying, aka, the wallet.

He arrived earlier than expected—pedaling faster going back than he was when he was leaving. He parked the bicycle behind the Church and entered its backdoor.

What surprised him was how dark it was.

Odd. . .he thought.

During this time, although late, the light at this portion of the Church, on the hall as well as at the altar should be present.

Why was it turned off?

"Father Simon! I forgot my wallet. I apologize for being careless."

He called as he entered the Church. He turned around, heading for his quarters when he heard a tumbling sound. It was at the altar.

Curious as he should be, as there could possibly only two people in this Church: him and Father Simon. He assumed that Father would be down on the basement. . .so who could possibly?

What greeted him was a flash of light—a "hello" from Hades.

His body was hammered by a fifty centimeter rod on the wall. Blood flowed from his right shoulder where the rod impaled itself in.

Shock filled his entire body. Although he felt the initial pain, and his back feeling he had a hundred of back spasms happening at the same time, his emotions suddenly felt numb.

He then picked a scent of something. It was a foul odor—something similar to the red liquid flowing from his shoulder.

He glanced at the altar and God forbid his soul for cursing. His eyes were filled with surprise and his body could not move a muscle.

Father Simon laid dead while covered with the same rods that pierced his shoulder.

A voice of a man suddenly called out from the Church entrance. It was a sincere, pleasant and gentle voice yet animosity could be seen from every words he had said.

Shirou could hardly picture the man as his senses was about to faint yet he could swear that the stranger was looking at Father Simon.

"It's truly unfortunate that it came to this. I shall commit the greatest of prayers to absolve of this grievous—."

The man averted his eyes from the fallen priest.

He was now looking at Shirou. . .and the teen knew what that meant.

As if his body instinctively sensing danger. . .alarmed him that he was next. His senses suddenly fired up giving him strength to move his other shoulder. He quickly pulled out the rod with all his strength, almost breaking his other arm, and then fell to the floor.

He lifted his body quickly and pushing his brain to its limits to decide which direction to run.

The man lifted his weapon; it was a silver bow. Light materialized from his hand, turning into the rod that was fired before. He loaded the rod to the bow and aimed at Shirou.

The teen, feeling death inching even closer, pushed his body even greater than before and convinced his legs to run. Run to anywhere but here!

The man, although had the clear aim, hesitated for a moment. That moment gave Shirou the opportunity to escape.

"God is with me . . .and He will forever be."

He shouted to himself as he run. He was given the choice: run to the bicycle and call for help Or head to the basement and lock it as it could only be unsealed on the inside. . .

The man was using arrows. Going to an open field or a place filled with trees could mean either death or survival.

Hiding behind trees in the forests would be a nice idea. . .but—

There was also a chance that the man was not alone.

Death was behind him. His mind was almost falling blank. He could not even bother to think about the blood gushing from his shoulder.

With this, he would only be followed by the man with his trail of blood.

He stumbled upon the basement door. Quickly, he jumped inside and locked the stone door.

Panting heavily, he shook his head and took clothes that were lying on the table near the shelves and bandaged his right shoulder after he had applied alcohol over it.

Thank goodness he had learned first aid. . .was what he was thinking.

Then, silently, he prayed. He prayed for God to come and help him. To come and save his dangered soul.

He recited all the prayers he knew. .. and at each end, he cried AMEN at the top of his lungs.

As he was tightening the grasp of his hands, a large bang was heard from the stone door.

And after a second, the thought to be fortified defense for Shirou's life was shattered into pieces.

"Your ability to seek survival is worthy of praise. Even in this age, men still know the value of their lives. . .however, that man—."

The man who killed Father Simon addressed Shirou. Shirou simply glared at him, with hatred, a feeling he should not give off.

"Why?"

That was what he could only ask.

"There is this banquet that will commence, A battle royale to the death. As I, a champion of my Master, had vowed to serve him, did what I was ordered to do."

He raised his silver bow which was loaded by an arrow. It was aiming at Shirou.

Can he fight this man?

That was what was Shirou thinking. He pulled out something from his sleeves: it was a pair of long daggers.

Swiftly, he threw them at the man like they were daggers.

A normal person would have been pierced at the heart and stomach by those weapons.

Only if that man was normal.

"Impressive."

That man murmured he lay there woundless from that attack. Shirou was speechless.

The man simply waved those weapons, black keys, prized weaponry of Executors of the Church, like they were simply flies.

"You must know that I am no man of this world."

That was what the man answered.

"Even giving you this information—though I suppose it's unneeded. You, after all, shall say farewell to this world."

The man released his fingers from the bowstring.

But before that, Shirou prayed in his heart and asked forgiveness from the Lord.

He knew his time was to end.

However, before he gave up believing, he roared so fiercely that at the moment the man was to release his fingers from the bowstring, the latter was startled by it.

"GOD IS WITH ME!"

A line his guardian used to tell him. A line that was engraved in his heart.A line that was taught by Life.

It was, for him, the most special line—

For him, He would save him.

As if to answer the call, God had given him a miracle.

"You're incorrect. GOD IS WITH US!"

Light enveloped the basement, and a bronze figure rushed towards the front and repelled the incoming arrow.

"What?!"

Even the man who was calm while showing killing intent could not help but be surprised by this happening.

A dazzling bronze figure waved a weapon—a sword, towards the man who was standing at the destroyed entrance.

The man swiftly jumped backwards, many times, as the figure waved the sword three times at him.

He fired three arrows in succession but the figure quickly disposed of them as if they were nothing.

The man bit his lips.

No matter how skilled he was with the bow, this was a place that he could do no battle.

Especially against a person who was skilled with the sword.

He needed to find the suitable terrain—and embarrassing at it was, he had to retreat from this field.

"What now, bowman? Will you simply stand there and wait for the bite of my blade?"

The figure taunted the man. It was a sweet and serene voice but it was also filled with courage and valor.

"Do not feel confident due to this advantageous location, swordsman."

The man answered back without any tone of aggression.

He withdrew his weapon, disappearing into tiny bits of silver vapor, and turned his back from the bronze figure.

"I was ordered to fulfill a mission—and that is not to eliminate a Master of this War. I have fulfilled my first objective. "

The man said as he glanced at the swordsman.

"It seems the miracle of fate has chosen that man's life as its catalyst. We shall find another time to do combat, Saber."

He addressed the figure behind him before disappearing like a gust of wind.

The figure unsheathed the sword to its scabbard and turned around to face the teen who was laying on his back upon a wall.

"God had given you a blessing of His miracles. You are loved."

The figured addressed to Shirou as he was dumbfounded on how to take in the situation.

He could do nothing but simply stare at the figure before him.

Bronze armor with designs of gold and blue cloth inside it, a sword engraved with beautiful ornaments and a golden hair that would make her appear foreign.

It was an appearance of unlikeliness of this era. The figure was like a knight told in French and British legends.

The figure could also be seen as an angel, who wore an armor made by the Heavens, sent by God to aid Shirou, like a miracle indeed.

Amen.

Was what Shirou could utter.

"Although knowing what had transpired, I still feel the need to ask—," the figure broke the silence with a serene and calm address while slowly approaching Shirou.

Shirou's thoughts were filled with only two things right now:

God saved him by bringing an angel clad in beautiful armor.

And, this angel was a true star—a rose in the sky.

This figure was—

"Are you my Master?"

The figure asked Shirou while standing before him.

Shirou answered quickly and instinctively as if the moment had let those words slip up from his mouth.

"You are beautiful."

His eyes could not move away from the woman who was a knight sent by God.

~somewhere~

The night was quite young as the golden moon shone at the center of the vast sky. Stars filled the horizon with their lustrous blaze while countable number of clouds could be seen floating under the night lights.

If one described this moment, it would be magical. It was perfect enough to be portrayed on a painting as it was a night of shining beauty.

Over the southern forests of Fukakaina, where most of the clouds gathered, light was in abundance with some concealed behind the clouds.

Wolves howled, owls cooed, and deersgalloped as the night breeze swayed the forest trees. It was a rare natural beauty—no human interference could be seen at this hour.

Only if they were human. . .that it could have been considered as such.

Large explosions hammered behind the tall mountain that separates the forest from another which was closest to the suburban area.

The explosions echoed across the forest, the cliffs, and the roads. . .startling all animals of all sizes. Yet, these explosions were not man made.

No smoke could be seen. No fire could be seen.

But, explosions on the size of an erupting volcano rang across the forest. Going by its intensity, the closest suburban area could hear this disturbing noise.

However, no activity was seen in spite of this noise already lasting for a couple of minutes.

It was as if a sound-proof glass covered this area, separating it from the outside.

Something like that, transparent from the eye, was made to cover this occurring incident.

A magical barrier—a thaumaturgical use of a bounded field to separate an area from another. This was meant to conceal a magus' activities from the outside or a place for solitude for a magus if not an activity concerning magecraft. . .Or. . .

It could be something to conceal a battle to the death.

From the trees to the east, a large number of broken twigs and lumber flew up like a geyser. A shadow leaped from the area while which followed him were salvos of projectiles faster than the speed of sound.

The projectiles pierced the trees, the boulders, the Earth and even the sky.

The shadow whom was jumping from tree to tree, evaded the arrows with ease but occasionally, he used his weapon, which was as long as two meters, a polearm, to deflect incoming projectiles.

The projectiles were thrown to the side, from left to right, as he twirled the polearm like a twister.

"Astonishing skill with the bow," the polearm wielding man with golden hair, who was covered with a gold and crimson armor, praised as he fixed his eyes at the mountain above him.

More projectiles rained over him a moment afterwards as if an answer to the man's words.

"So you're now relying on quantity over quality."

The man whispered as he stood his ground, unyielding and courageous, desiring to face the volley of projectiles heading towards him.

"I like it. . ."

With a curl on his lips, his eyes ignited. He raised his polearm: a black spear, and swung it in all directions, aiming to destroy everything that was aimed towards him. After eradicating as many as he could, he rotated the polearm and rested it on his shoulder while wearing a smile of joy.

He was nearly successful in eradicating the projectiles but a few was able to hit his thigh, shoulder and abdomen. Even with his armor, those arrows could harm him.

"Hoh, impressive. To be able penetrate my armor, you are no mongrel. "

He murmured as he pulled the projectile that pierced his abdomen.

It was an arrow filled with divine energy and having a crystal head.

"To fight someone like you bring me all the joy a virgin woman could give to a lonesome ruler," the man smiled as he said these words while preparing his body for another rain of arrows.

He stabbed his black spear on the ground. As if in sync with the action, golden lights manifested behind him.

"Come and face the challenge of the King, Archer!"

He was preparing to use his rightful weapon.

The moon, who was being concealed by the clouds a moment ago, now revealed itself and illuminated the location of the bowman. A man with black hair, deep eyes and skin engraved with mysterious marks.

He smiled and fired another arrow from his bow.

It was a start of the carnage: the beginning of the Holy Grail War.

~Act 1 END