Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit fictional story, a FanFiction based on Ken Akamatsu's Negima. I do not own Negima, or most of the other characters included in this work, excepting where it is stated in the author's notes. It is not intended or presented for any commercial profit or personal gain; it is simply a story written for personal fulfillment and presented for public enjoyment, and as an honest homage to the fine story conceived and written by Ken Akamatsu, as well as all the other (innumerable) works that find place herein (and their authors).
Chapter Five: Victory in Fuyuki City
Rin lay on the floor, in the midst of the magic circle. She was paralyzed, her body almost entirely unresponsive. Her mind worked well enough, but the only thing she could move was her head, and even that was sluggish and heavy. Her mouth labored to utter the words as she spoke to her captor. "What…are you planning to do with me?"
"Well, that depends," Anya replied cheerfully. "You are just bait, mostly, a bit of insurance, but you can prove quite useful to me. If Emiya Shirô will submit to me, I will allow you to live. If not, your life and magical energy will prove quite useful towards unsealing my cursed form."
"Cursed…form…? That child body…are you a sealed demon…like Alysaser…?"
"Ah, of course, you're from Mahora. So the rumors of that demon were true; even my best spies couldn't directly infiltrate those cursed grounds, but it was an interesting tale. No, I am quite human, even now…just something more than a mere mage. We have time, little Tôsaka Rin-chan…would you like to learn about a real mage?
"I am several hundred years old. From the time I recognized my magical talent, I knew there was only one goal worth pursuing: eternal life. I slew my father and older brothers in order to take control of my noble mage family, and poured all of my considerable resources into researching the subject. There are actually myriad options for mages to extend their lives; our powerful magic tends to extend us naturally, but even so, in the grand scheme of things, 120 years are not much different than 60. There is one traditional, generally accepted means to do so: magical talent can very slowly, through advanced alchemy and extensive spells of healing nature, restore youth and halt aging, but it takes so much time and energy to follow that route, constantly brewing potions for nine months to reduce a year from your life or casting a spell of youth every few months, that it's hardly worth the effort. On its own, normal magic will never do more than that, and traditional magical theorists maintain that this is right—there is a reason our lives are finite, and effortless immortality would be more curse than blessing.
"In fact, most mages are too afraid to live forever. They don't have the proper mindset for it. Even elves, who can live practically forever, grow tired of life after five hundred years or so. People like me are rare…so obsessed with self and one's own self that nothing matters but continuing to live and enjoy the pleasures of this life.
"So I had to turn to unorthodox sources—forbidden magics beyond those normally wielded by mortals. Most 'righteous' wizards are so narrow-minded about immortality, and thus Celestial magic rarely offers solutions of that nature. It is to demons that most turn, as Infernals love to promise and grant wishes of that sort for their own benefit, and in the long run those who follow that route often rue their choices. And the race of vampires lives on today as a testament to the terrible cost of trying to cheat the system by most means, including stealing Infernal power without the usual devil's bargain.
"In the end, I was forced to rely on an inconvenient but serviceable form of immortality…transferring my soul to another body, whenever I needed to in order to avoid dying. This system is hardly perfect—every generation my body continues to age, so I have to find a husband or lover, rear a daughter, raise her, and transfer my soul into her when she comes of age, thus serving as the head of this family in perpetuity, a secret I admittedly relish. Even I am growing tired of this round, and after so many centuries I've grown desperate enough to attach a little more risk to my efforts.
"I have researched a new spell, necromantic but not Infernal in nature, that will transfer a large portion of human life into lifeforce that I can use to invigorate my body. The largest problem with this method is that I must sacrifice a great many souls to give myself a mere few decades' worth of constant youth, and this attracts a great deal of attention. In today's world of constant information, it is a little more difficult to wipe out a hundred thousand humans without fear of being recognized or interfered with. Luckily for me, ten years ago the famed hero Kalan Lockeheart reappeared from obscurity in order to save his son, then vanished once again, and so the efforts of the Magic Council of Japan's Kanto region became focused on tracking down the wayward hero, leaving no attention to be paid to anything I did here. Thus Fuyuki City became the perfect place to conduct my little experiment."
"But…it didn't go as you planned," Rin managed. "Emiya Kiritsugu…would never be party to something like that…."
Anya actually laughed. "Too true. Enlisting him was a calculated risk that backfired far more than I believed it would. While the mages of Japan were distracted, enemies from my own home would notice my departure from my reclusive lifestyle and mark my flight across the world, so I needed a competent bodyguard, one that would not attract too much attention. I guessed he would oppose my plan if he found out what it was, but I didn't think that he would have the power to interfere even if he did learn of it. He protected me well enough, but just as I finished my ritual, something alerted him to its true purpose, and with a power I had not anticipated he disrupted it. He did not completely succeed in saving the city, of course, as you know; the spell backfired spectacularly, setting the whole city ablaze and causing that well-known disaster. The few local mages who were investigating my actions perished in the flames, and only Kiritsugu himself survived, thanks to that secret artifact he had obtained. I was cursed in the backlash, my power suspended for some time, and it has only recently returned to me. In addition, my body became like this—cursed with the status of a young teenager, one barely entering puberty, and I am confined to it like a prison, unable to transfer my soul to a new vessel. So, before I can resume my original plan, I need to unseal it. If Shirô will aid me, I should be able to undo it with his power; should that fail, I will have to make use of your life for that purpose instead…."
8-8-8
Shirô sat in the living room in a daze as his new visitors availed themselves of the amenities he offered; they may be forgiven for taking advantage of their landing point, for they had spent several days in Hueco Mundo without any readily available food or water—something they needed less in spiritual form in Hueco Mundo, but still keenly felt. While Iria and Aeli focused on cooking dinner, Kalan and Aiden discussed matters with their numb host.
"Kalan Lockeheart," Shirô murmured after the visitors had been introduced. "Tôsaka-san spoke about you…she said you were a hero who saved the world of magic…."
"Tôsaka Rin?" Aiden demanded for confirmation. "So, she's gotten mixed up in this little debacle, huh? Why don't you tell us the whole story?"
Shirô did so, and the two adults listened attentively. "Very interesting," Kalan muttered. "Most Western mages don't risk messing with the mages of Japan, but this one found an opening."
"Analia Chovos," Aiden noted. "Head of the Chovos family. Not a great reputation, but the mistress of the Chovos family generally sticks to terrorizing her own holdings and rarely ventures outside of them. For something like this…sounds like a vain mage looking for immortality experiments. She's known as a master of magical spirits and binding spells. One of those who only avoids true Infernal magic because she's smart enough to be leery about the payback they involve."
Shirô stared at his knees, teeth gritted, face angry. "She has to be stopped. We can't let what happened to this city be repeated…and we have to save Tôsaka-san!"
Aiden shrugged. "Well, that's what we do…" he began nonchalantly, but Kalan had a calculating, serious stare on Shirô.
"Do you want to save that girl?" he asked their host bluntly. "Do you want to save this city…with your own hands?"
Shirô glanced up in surprise. "What do you mean? Of course I want to, but…."
"How important is this to you?" Kalan continued. "What does it really mean to you?"
Shirô stared a second longer, then looked at nothing as he considered the question and his feelings. "Ever since my father saved my life, I've felt it was borrowed. All I wanted was to be a 'hero of justice'…someone who could do the kinds of things that you are famous for. Of course I want to save this city…it's like a curse that's come because I asked for it…but…I don't need the glory and personal satisfaction, if it comes right down to it. I just…don't ever want to see people die like that ever again. If there's any way to save this city, that's what I want…whether I am personally involved or not. But I will fight with every ounce of my being to save it, and I will sacrifice my life if that's what it takes. I…can't just sit back and hope that it goes better."
Kalan nodded. "Yes…there is 'glory' in being the one to save the day. There is satisfaction, and there are other rewards sometimes…but there are also pain, fatigue, heartache, and so much effort. That's what it means to be a 'hero'. Most people who dream of that 'profession' have no idea what they're asking for. But you've seen just what the worst can be…and your only goal is to prevent it from happening. Okay, then. You have some magical power, but you have no idea how to use it, especially in the way you need. After dinner, I'll start training you to use that power of yours, I'll train you to be a mage and a fighter…and then you can use those skills to save Tôsaka Rin and this city with your own hands."
Shirô stared up at Kalan in shock and almost anger. "Train me…? But, we don't possibly have time for that! That girl could kill Tôsaka and destroy this city at any moment! What could I learn in a few minutes or hours that would make a difference?"
Kalan chuckled. "Trust me," he replied. "There's no need to worry. Time is the least of our concerns. We have all the time in the world."
8-8-8
Shortly after, Aeli and Iria brought their prepared meal out, and Shirô wolfed it down in short order, eager to get started. Kalan finished his own swiftly but without hurry, then rose and beckoned his new young charge follow him outside.
It was nearly noon; because of the hour, it was more like a very expansive lunch, but because of their lack of eating, Kalan and his companions could think of it as nothing but a long-awaited dinner. Kalan put such thoughts aside and drew his short sword as Shirô followed him out.
Shirô stared in surprise as Kalan stopped and turned back to him, flipping the blade into a reverse grip and raising it up as if to present it to the young man. "Well, then—let's get started. Bankai. Kami no Yume."
Suddenly the world became a new, surreal scene, and Kalan and Shirô were standing on the pinnacle of the keep of a great, marvelous castle, one whose walls encompassed an entire city laying across the hilly landscape below them. Beautiful, vividly-real forests stretched out beyond those walls, filling the horizon all around them, past the river that served as a moat for the whole city and the green grasslands that lay beyond that. Shirô gazed around in shock. "What…is this…?" he murmured.
"A dream," Kalan replied. "This is my sword's true power, to create sub-realities—'dreams' for short. This world is a place that we can train freely. Within the dreams I create, the laws of reality are dictated by my whim and abilities. With the power I have, I can compress time within this realm about 720 times…in other words, if we experienced a month's worth of time in this realm, only an hour would pass in the real world. That's why I told you not to worry about time.
"Based on what you've told us and what we've been able to pick up ourselves since our arrival, the girl 'Anya' is likely going to prepare a new ritual to sacrifice Tôsaka Rin's life, and most likely she'll consummate it at midnight, an hour when Necromantic spells tend to be strongest. If we train for ten hours, we'll still have an hour to an hour-and-a-half to track down her lair and defeat her…and finding her lair won't be a problem with the scope and type of spell she's using."
Shirô stared at Kalan. "Ten months? We can really…train that long…in one day?"
"Yes. If you can stand it." Kalan smiled slightly, then turned away. "Follow me; we'll need a good location to do our training. The first thing we're going to do is teach you about proper magic."
He started down the stairs at the far end of the parapet and exposited to Shirô the basics that had been skipped in his education while they traveled.
"Magic generally refers to the 'art' of using mana to achieve seemingly miraculous effects. Everything starts with mana—like light, which has baffled scientists for centuries because of its odd and unique properties, mana seems to be an energy source that is expended, and a gas-like matter that pervades existence, and it also seems to be at least vaguely sentient. Mana essentially exists in a higher dimension, one that theoretical physicists have hypothesized but not actually proven or discovered, so without the use of magic it is essentially undetectable; however, it exists everywhere in our world, and every living creature produces at least a small amount of mana. Like other types of energy and matter, mana has different 'poles', properties, and characteristics. The bulk of mana in our world seeps in from a dimension of mana, the 'magical plane', a sub-universe located very close to us by some measurements but a half-step away in other dimensions of measurement. This mana is the most sentient of all the types, and is attracted to creatures that produce larger amounts of mana.
"Mana is also produced by living creatures, in small amounts, by 'mana organs' that once again exist in this higher dimension and are therefore undetectable by normal scientific means. The use of magic—the casting of spells—is accomplished by drawing the mana that fills this world into ourselves, attaching it to the mana we have, and then commanding or persuading it to take a particular form or perform a particular action through our psychic manipulations. Because mana out there is sentient, it is attracted to particular rituals and even particular objects; thus magic is usually worked with specific gestures, words, and items like wands. As a mage's 'magical awareness', or 'magery' grows, and he masters specific 'spells', he can perform his abilities with less effort, as the mana will be drawn to the desires of his mind as he focuses them.
"Your particular method of spell-casting is rather unique and inefficient, useful for simple secretive magic but almost worthless if you want to fight. Your father taught you to 'create' a magic circuit within yourself and then channel your spell through that artificial wire. But we all have magical circuits—the mana from without is drawn into us through our magic slots, travels through our magical circuits, meets our personal mana, is transformed into the desired spell, sent back through the circuits and then expelled again through those magic slots. Your method of spell-casting is a ritualized spell all its own, creating a copy of a magical circuit out of mana within your body, and directly forcing all nearby mana into that circuit. It allows you to work novice magic without word or gesture, so you can cast in secret, but it's lengthy and not at all mana-efficient. The mana we expend requires effort, and causes us to tire; and so you wear yourself out much more quickly like that. So the first thing you'll need to learn is how to cast properly."
They arrived in a basement, a huge, seemingly empty expanse not far different from Kisuke's training grounds. Shirô, having never experienced such a wonder, found the expanse mind-boggling, unable to comprehend how such a space could exist under this castle at which they had just arrived. Kalan turned to Shirô and the boy's attention returned to him, just as Kalan's companions appeared, coming down the stairs that they themselves had just finished using. "You'll need to learn more than that, of course—spells for combat, fighting in general and, most especially, how to use your natural magic…not to mention the artifact you carry inside of you."
"Artifact…?"
"Did you wonder how we suddenly arrived?" Kalan demanded to counter the question. "I was drawn to you. I can sense that thing inside of you quite easily, since I also carried it once. We just came from Hueco Mundo, a 'realm of evil spirits', to put it mildly, although the 'evil spirits' we encountered there weren't so bad."
(In fact, Kalan's mission had been surprisingly peaceful—some aggressive Hollows attacked, but it was mostly out of spite, and more powerful leaders arrived to put an end to the fighting and parlay with the group almost immediately. The only powerful arrancar left were the three 'former Espada' that had been fought by Fairy Tail, Grimmjow, and Harribel and her fracciónes, and Harribel had reluctantly taken up the role of 'ruling' Hueco Mundo. Nagi had organized a world of solitude, fear, and hatred into his own personal army camp, with the greater arrancar set up to rule over them like a disorderly army from Las Noches, and now that he was gone, their natural recourse was to fall into that pattern once again. Harribel strove to retain the peace, at least amongst the more powerful arrancar, and thus was now the Queen of Hueco Mundo. Upon learning that Kalan was not leading an invasion force but was rather on a fact-finding mission, she assured him that she had no more reason to attack Earth or any other worlds, and would try to keep what intelligent hollows that listened to her in line as well, keep them from trouble or war. She could not guarantee complete peace, of course—hollows were naturally bloodthirsty, maddened souls, who could only continue existing by eating souls. The more evolved ones regained their reason and intelligence, and those which became arrancar could subsist on human food or whatever spiritual equivalent they were able to cook up in Hueco Mundo, but there was no way to keep all the lower hollows from following their appetites and desires. Still, her actions and assurances were enough to convince Kalan that another dangerous war was not forthcoming from that realm, and he was able to construct the gate back to Earth swiftly and without trouble.)
He continued to Shirô, "On our way home, I sensed something familiar and changed my course—and what I sensed was the power within you. You carry the scabbard of Excalibur, a powerful magical artifact, within your body, and with its full power activated, it has rendered you almost immortal. As I said, I had it once, too; our group, the Red Wings, found it while adventuring one day, to make a very long story short, and its rightful inheritor kept it for most of the time after, but at our final battle, it was entrusted to me. It was an artifact so powerful, that had endured so much, that it was already halfway between physical substance and magical essence; I absorbed it into myself and used the last of its power to help me defeat the Obsidian Prince. Thus exhausted, its remaining essence must have gone to the Throne of Heroes, and Emiya Kiritsugu then found it, reconstituted, at some later point."
Kalan pointed meaningfully at his young charge. "And Emiya Kiritsugu then used that item to save your life, placing it inside of you. It has…warped you, in some ways, in ways that I suppose should be considered fortunate. You likely didn't have a lot of magical power or presence before, but now, the mana of that artifact has changed you. You have magical reserves that are beyond what most humans can manage, and natural abilities that must be difficult for you to even understand. It's no wonder that, with your limited experience with magic, you've been at such a loss. But as I said before, I can teach you to use those abilities. I will train you so that you can rescue that girl and save this town yourself. Are you ready to be a Hero of Justice, Emiya Shirô?"
Shirô's face went from perplexity to healthy resolve. He had been largely baffled by all of Kalan's talk, barely understanding any of it, but this was simple enough…it was nothing more than his absolute will. "Of course. I'll do anything I have to. Please teach me!"
8-8-8
Anya sat in a chair, her head turned to the window, chin on her fist, gazing out at the bright moon in the sky. "…It's almost time. Shirô is certainly late. One way or another, I was certain he would have come by now. Is he trying to seem more heroic by arriving 'in the nick of time'?" She glanced over at Rin and smiled. "Well, he better hurry. If I can't for sure make use of him, you'll have to do; and the time to do that is fast approaching. It'd be a shame if you never got to meet again, eh?"
Rin didn't reply, lying still, her eyes closed. Anya wasn't even sure if the suppressive magic had finally taken its toll, and Rin was unconscious, or she simply was stubbornly refusing to respond or rise to Anya's baiting. The seeming-girl shrugged. It didn't matter either way. One way or another, she would get what she wanted….
"My master," rasped a chilling, undulating voice as a shadow formed into a coherent shape. "We have intruders approaching."
Anya glanced over, and the robed figure with the grotesque, overly-huge and misplaced eyes extended both hands, cupped around a crystal orb about the size of a basketball. Within the crystal an image showed Kalan, Aiden, Iria, Aeli and Shirô all approaching the mansion. "Well, well, well…he comes at last, and with help, too. Really, Kalan Lockeheart himself? I've been hearing interesting rumors about that young man lately, and they might be true. This will certainly be something else; I have never seen a mage as young as he is with such power. But there's no turning back now. All I can do is trust my own powers will buy me time until all is ready. Caster. Berserker. Lancer. Fencer." Three humanoids materialized around her. "Go entertain our guests. I'm sure they'll be eager to play with you. Don't let them enter alive, save the boy. We'll have a special reception for him." The figures bowed, then vanished. Anya turned a wide smile on another shadow by a doorway behind her. "You'll be the doorman to greet dear Shirô, won't you…my lovely Archer…?"
8-8-8
The five stared at the mansion, surrounded by its wide gate, dark and foreboding. Despite the clarity of this cloudless night, there seemed to be a dark haze hanging over the manor. Shirô barely resisted a shiver. "And…they're here?" he murmured.
"Absolutely," Aiden assured him. "I have connections that know things like offshore holdings of major mage families. And from the feeling inside, there's no doubt; not to mention my spell following Rin leads right inside."
Kalan stretched his neck from side to side. "Hmm…yeah, that's actually quite some magic. I guess I should expect as much from a mage like her. She's an immortal mage. Were you aware of that, Aiden?"
"You're so sure? What, do you smell it or something? Well, I heard rumors about it. Even for a mage family, to have such a perfect succession of nearly identical heads, with such identical talents and magic…and her reclusive nature. That's the whole business here…she's been trying to use this city for an even bigger immortality ritual."
"Whether she's a decade old, or centuries old, it makes no difference to us," Iria pointed out. "We have to stop her either way. Even if she has accumulated magical power all this time, I doubt she has the power to stand against the Red Wings, right?"
"Well, maybe," Aeli giggled. "But she's going to try; she's employed magical spirits in warrior form, and has sent them out to greet us."
"I sense them too," Kalan agreed. "There are four heading our way. We'll each take one, and let Shirô go after the mastermind; it's his business first, after all. You can handle it, can't you, Shirô?"
Shirô's face was resolute, his posture rigid and strong as he stood ahead of his sempai and stared at the manor. "Of course. This is what I trained for. I won't lose now. It would be too much a waste."
Kalan nodded. "Do your best, then. That girl is counting on you…and so is this city."
The five leapt into action, the four adults spreading out to engage separate targets, and Shirô running straight towards the manor's front door….
8-8-8
Kalan slowed and walked more steadily past some trees to a grove that was almost like a draw for the moonlight above. He stopped, then turned around as Lancer stepped out from behind a tree. "So, you're the strongest, aren't you?" Lancer teased, smiling viciously. "I can feel it. I heard stories, too. Some sort of great war-mage?" He assumed a battle stance, deadly spear at the ready. "This will be…a truly marvelous battle."
"I don't know about marvelous," Kalan denied, drawing his sword. "But you seem interesting enough. You have a good amount of power for someone who's not even a Heroic Spirit; that old woman really does know some good tricks. Even so, you're not nearly my level, but I'll let you entertain me for a while. It wouldn't do to show up a kid like that in his moment of glory. He reminds me of Kain too much."
Lancer's smile increased in ferocity. "Heh…not at your level, you say? Maybe so…but we'll settle that notion the old-fashioned, reliable way!" And he charged in.
8-8-8
Aiden slowed and stopped as he beheld the blue-robed figure in his way, the too-lean and bony hands, the bulbous, malproportioned face…the strange book now clutched in those hands. He glanced askew at his impediment. "…You don't look like the sort who'd want to meet me in a stand-up fight. Who are you supposed to be?"
"I am a Caster," the robed figure rasped. "True, I am not a fighter…but I am enough to be your doom, and have no need to hide myself." He opened the book, and there was a rending of magical energy. Out of a rift that rose from the book, a tentacular monster emerged, an indescribable amalgamation of pseudopods, teeth, mouths, and eyes from the nightmares of the deranged. It gave an inhuman roar, something that was not sound but the audible rending of souls.
Aiden cocked an eyebrow at it. "Ah? Cthulhu, or something like that? Okay, that's interesting." He raised a gun towards his antagonist. "I think I caught something I can have a little fun with."
8-8-8
Iria also slowed and stopped her advance as she felt the presence approaching. Then she whirled, throwing a hand up, and the earth around her rose up in response and flashed hard as the blade came streaking in and connected with it.
Repelled, the swordsman flew backwards, spun in the air, and landed gracefully some distance away. He was a handsome man, tall and well-built, with curly dark hair and dressed in a hard sleeveless armor-like shirt and dark slacks, wielding a pair of simple, straight and short-bladed swords. He smiled almost wickedly at Iria, and the mole just under the end of his left eye almost seemed to flash. "Ah, how unfortunate for you…being a woman…."
Iria stared back, feeling the pull of magic, but shook her right wrist and presented it—and the silver amulet that adorned it—to the spirit. "Natural charm magic, huh? That's unfair…but my husband and I were treasure-hunters and magic collectors. This trinket helps me resist enchantments like that."
"Oh, how nice. That will make this more interesting. Also, impressive defense. You're an Earth-Element mage?"
"Not exactly," Iria denied. She slapped her palms together, then spread her hands out, and a magic circle of detailed, exotic design wrote itself out on the ground around her, its lines and runes blazing. Crystals suddenly grew out of the earth around her like blossoms, then exploded, sending shards of jagged, glittering stone towards the swordsman.
The man leapt backward again, skillfully deflecting and dodging every missile. When the attack ceased, he landed gracefully once again and still flashed his smile Iria's way. "Ah, that design…Transmutation, then. What a rare and quaint art that is. You're skilled with it, but you can't believe it's enough to defeat a magical spirit like me, a warrior like Fencer."
"Don't underestimate my 'art'," Iria replied. "It's a good word for what I do, since Transmutation has so many uses beyond combat; and perhaps there are magics better suited for battle, but it's my talent, the skill of my family, and I've learned to make good use of it over the years. I couldn't have held my own alongside Aiden Rylack, premier adventurer, if my art wasn't capable of holding its own in the harshest of combats." She put her hands to the ground, and the magic circle suddenly expanded, stretching its lines out to paint the ground around them as far as the eye could see. The feel of mana in the air intensified and became almost heavy. Iria rose and stretched out a hand. "It's been a long time since I've had to use my power to the extent that will be required to fight you; but if it's just you, nothing's going to interfere with what I can do. This whole battlefield of ours is becoming my territory, now."
Fencer simply chuckled. "Well, then…at least it will be interesting." He raised his swords and charged in.
8-8-8
Like Aiden, Aeli's opponent was standing in her path. It was a dark figure, a suit of black armor with darkness rising from its cracks and seams, a visible dark vapor of corrupted mana. As Aeli stopped, hesitating at the sight of it, it raised its bowed head and red light glowed and flashed from within the visor. With an inaudible roar felt in the bones, it crouched down, preparing to spring.
Aeli pulled her contract card and leveled her magical bow at the beast. "A Berserker spirit, eh?" she murmured, mostly to herself. "How tragic; I, who prefer to settle disputes with words, pitted against one who cannot speak, but only fight madly. Well, the pain of your rage troubles me, spirit. I'll devote all my power to ending your existence on this world so you can be freed to return home."
The monster gave another roar, and charged in. Aeli released the magical arrow she held.
8-8-8
Nothing stood in Shirô's way as he pounded towards the manor. Nothing…until he stopped short just before it, not ten feet away, stopping before the figure that suddenly materialized. The figure he recognized. Red coat, black armor, white hair…Archer raised his head and stared at Shirô, and a somewhat evil smile crept over his face.
"Archer…" Shirô murmured. "You…are really standing in my way…? Are you protecting Anya-san? Your will…has been taken over by her?"
"My will?" Archer laughed, shortly, then in longer breaths, softly, then more loudly. "What does a brat like you understand about my will, Emiya Shirô? Do you presume to think that a mere human mage besides my true master could truly order me about in such a way?"
"Then, let me past!" Shirô insisted. "Or better yet, help me! Your master, Tôsaka-san, is in there, Anya-san's prisoner, isn't she!? Shouldn't you help me rescue her!? If you have any free will of your own left, we should…!"
"Help you, Emiya Shirô? Are you mad? Whatever reason would I have for helping you?" Archer finally turned his full gaze on Shirô, met his eyes, and Shirô saw a strange fierceness there, a genuine anger and hate…and what was worse, it was not a madness, but the chilling horror of true sanity and clarity. "You are my mortal enemy, Emiya Shirô, the reason I exist…or rather, the only reason I exist is to ensure your death."
This took the young man aback. He had been expecting battle, he was ready for anything…but while Archer had not exactly been kind to him, he couldn't imagine that the spirit could possibly prioritize Shirô's death over Rin's safety. "W-what? Archer, you cannot…why me…? I thought…Tôsaka-san said you didn't even remember anything about your history, but even so, how could I…?"
"You are everything in my history. You are my history. It's true, I lost my memory when Rin summoned me…partly through her mistake, and partly because my entire existence is a mistake. But now, after all I've gone through, and after meeting you, I've remembered. I know who and what I really am, fully and entirely, and what I came here to do. All Heroic Spirits, unlike the artificial souls created by this mage you've been fighting, are the remains of great mages and magical heroes from Earth and Arcanus Myrror, or perhaps even the other worlds. All were warriors who were known in some tale or other. The name I had in life…was Emiya Shirô."
As Shirô's eyes widened even further, threatening to consume his entire head, Archer continued, "I was a young man trained in magic, who received a most excellent tutor and true baptism in that world just at the right time to be a 'hero of justice'. With magic spreading and new worlds emerging before our influence, there was plenty of the great work I desired to perform, needing to be done. I traveled far, an apprentice of the Red Wings, a young man carrying on their legacy, zealously seeking to save all the lives I could. In time, I even obtained what I thought was the ultimate power…a wish-granting magic that would make my fondest dreams come true. I wished…that I could be the ultimate Hero of Justice, a man who could endlessly fight evil and save lives."
Archer smiled bitterly. "As young and foolish as I was, I did not realize the price magical wishes of that power require. I did not realize how inherently cruel and evil they are. My wish was granted…I grew in power, such that I could battle all evils across the worlds. But by my wish I created more evil—for a hero must have evil to vanquish. My first curse was that I could never fully vanquish evil, for my very wish was that I could continue being a hero, and a hero needs an evil to vanquish. My second curse was that for every life I was able to save, there was a life that slipped beyond my grasp. My determination turned to despair and despondence, such that I could not even blame my former allies who, afraid of me and my power, eventually betrayed and killed me. But on my death, I made a pact with magic itself, with the magical plane, and became something new. Not a true Heroic Spirit; else even with the strange circumstances around it Rin could not summon me from the Throne of Heroes. Rather, I became what some ancient mages called a Counter-Guardian, a spiritual magic creature bound to find and destroy aberrations that threaten the balance of existence. For this cause I was pulled into the battle with the Obsidian Star, and became Rin's 'Heroic Spirit'. But in return for my service, I was able to make one final wish; and my wish is that I could truly cease to exist, that my mistakes could be wiped from existence. And this is my chance; by killing you, I will prevent that mistake from ever having been made, and we will end.
"Yes, I hate you, Emiya Shirô, as you can feel; because I hate myself. I hate how naïve and foolish I was, and when I see you, I see that weakness in full. That senseless optimism and hope that led me to my cursed state. It is everything I despise. I have learned just how terrible and cruel the world, life, magic…how all of it truly is. You cannot possibly understand. But do not fear; because I will kill you here, you will never learn as I have. You will die in your innocent, pristine state."
Then the world changed. The sky became red, with dark gears churning in the air all over the sky and horizon. Swords dotted the landscape. Shirô gazed around in wonder. "But…this is…." Then he turned back to Archer, his face serious and contemplative. "I see. So it's really…." Then he shook his head. "But that doesn't matter. Your past, my possible future, that has nothing to do with the here and now. Yes, I'm naïve and foolish, and I freely admit it. If I've learned nothing else since I met Tôsaka, I learned that. But that doesn't change this moment, this event. Anya-san plans to kill Tôsaka, and everyone in this town as part of her dark arts. I won't allow that to happen, and I won't let anyone stand in my way…certainly not 'myself'." The white and black swords materialized in his hands, and he readied himself.
Archer's smile grew colder and crueler. "Heh. Let's see." He materialized his own copies of the twin blades and advanced swiftly.
The four swords clashed and clanged as the two swordsmen dueled. "Well! You're much better than you were yesterday!" Archer commented. "Yes, Kalan-sensei trained you well, didn't he? But do you think even several months of rushed training would match my lifetimes of experience…beyond that same training I also had!?" To accentuate his point, he feinted, then reacted faster than Shirô could respond, kneeing him in the stomach and then kicking him away with his opposite foot. He threw his two swords at Shirô, and as the boy desperately tried to recover and deflect the whirling blades, Archer pulled a pair of swords from the ground around him and charged in after.
Archer scored a double strike from his attack, and Shirô reeled backward, blood fountaining from the wounds in his chest as he gasped in pain. Then he set himself and repelled Archer's next attack, swiftly turning from pain to anger. "So you've trained harder than me…so what!?" Shirô shot back. "What does it matter if you're stronger than me, if you're more powerful than I am!? I'll keep fighting for the right thing until I die! Even if you kill me, I won't give up! No matter how many times you knock me down, no matter how wounded I get, I won't stop until I've saved her!
"You followed that path until you ended up in despair? I don't care! It has nothing to do with me, with the here and now! I will walk my own path, and make my own mistakes, not yours! And now, if you're standing in my way, I'll end your destiny of despair with my own hands!"
He threw Archer back and began to chant, continuing to battle as he intoned the words.
"Crane wings (Spirit and technique), without opening (flawless and firm), Spirt and technique (Strength), reaching the mountain (pierce the mountain!), Spirit and technique (Sword), crossing the Yellow River (split the water), Name (Fame), ending in a different heaven (reaching the imperial villa), Two Rivals (We), sharing a life (cannot embrace heavens together)."
Kalan had not taught him the technique—Kalan had taught him nothing but the basics of magic and spellcasting, how to properly channel his own energy, and all he could teach him in that short time about swordplay and martial arts. He had left Shirô to feel out his own unique powers and abilities, and he had developed his new powers by instinct and feeling. Even as he fought, he considered with awe the implication and realization of those instinctive abilities, and how they were tied to this man in front of him. In the short time he had had with the two of them, both Rin and Archer had impressed Shirô, and Archer, as the greatest warrior example he'd had in his young life, became the pinnacle he aspired to in his heart, and thus the first weapons he created by his Projection were the two swords Archer preferred, Kanshô and Bakuya. And now, these weapons and techniques he used, he had learned…it was he himself who had first presented them to himself. How did this strange cycle begin or end…?
Nevertheless, Shirô's instincts were focused on the battle as he performed the Triple-Linked Crane Wings he had developed. He threw his own two swords at Archer, aiming for his neck, and as Archer deflected them, he Projected another pair and charged in to attack. As he struck, first with Kanshô and then with Bakuya, the first pair of Bakuya and then Kanshô came back around in their separate flight to strike at Archer from behind. Archer managed to deflect all four of those attacks, but as his parries threw Shirô's two swords in his hands out wide, he released them and conjured a third pair, which he brought in with a decisive X-shaped slash across Archer's body, and all of this while chanting his spell to give power to his technique. Archer recoiled and staggered backward from the attack. He stood still, his head still cocked back as if he were gazing to the sky. Shirô stared at him, panting, and the three pairs of twin swords vanished in succession. Then Archer fell to his knees, and the Reality Marble around them shattered. They were back in front of the manor. Shirô surveyed the scene in surprise.
Archer fell backward slightly, ending up in a type of seiza, and his head fell forward to bow, chin striking against his chest. "Well done," Archer murmured. "That is indeed…the kind of resolve I have lost over time…." He managed to glance up at Shirô as the boy turned to him. "Go on. She's waiting for you, isn't she? Save her…save Rin. That is your path…isn't it?"
Shirô stared at him for a moment, then nodded and turned back toward the building. He threw the door open and dashed inside, paying no further attention to the defeated spirit.
Archer stared after him just a moment, then turned to the new arrival as Aiden slowly approached. "You're the first?" Archer murmured. "I'm surprised."
"Hmm. Yeah, so am I," Aiden replied. "Counter-Guardian, huh? I always knew there was something off about you." He gazed after the departed youth. "Still…you pushed him, but you didn't go all-out, did you? You let him win."
Archer chuckled. "That would not be true. I just did what I had to."
"You were serious? It didn't seem like it."
"My heart was in it. I was under the command of Anya Chovos, thanks to her Rule Breaker. The best way to resist…is not to resist. It will not strengthen its hold if it does not have to assert itself. My will was to kill Emiya Shirô…but that is not my only will. And that forced Emiya Shirô to do enough damage to me to break that control. I must be grateful to him, as loathe as I am to admit it."
"Heh." Aiden adjusted his hat. "Well, regardless, glad I showed up here first. Kalan might have been pissed enough at you to finish you off."
Archer chuckled again. "Yes, I am aware. Kalan Lockeheart…can truly be unforgiving to those who offend his code. But it does not matter. What matters…is the battle still to come. A representation of the new world Kain Lockeheart is guiding us to…the new generation against the legacy of the old magic ways…."
8-8-8
It wasn't hard for Shirô to find them—the unique magical senses he possessed had been honed and crafted by Kalan over the training he had given. He threw open the doors before the final room, a large somber chamber lit only by the light of the moon that poured through the open window off to the side. Rin lay in the back of the midst of the magical circle, still but fully clothed—obviously Analia Chovos had no reason to torment Rin in the fashion of 'standard' perverted villains. As for Analia herself, she knelt in the middle of the room, her hands clasped and her head bowed, as if in prayer. The moonlight shone upon her, illuminating her, creating a scene so serene and mystic that it brought Shirô up short.
Anya smiled and rose to her feet, opening her eyes and turning herself towards the young man. "You're rather naïve, Shirô. Just something like this is enough to shake you? I feel you hesitating. Even knowing what you do about me, even seeing what I've done, your heart is troubled over the thought of fighting me, and you wonder still if I'm really capable of being the villain you're telling yourself that I am. You can't possibly hope to triumph over me, to defeat me when your will is so fragile. If you want to gain anything, it is only through appealing to me directly."
Shirô steeled his resolve and shook his head, then crossed his swords in front of him. "No. I will stop you. No matter what it takes, I won't let you harm Tôsaka, or the people of this town."
Anya's smile quirked even deeper for just a moment. "Hmm. So you say. Well, child, come on and try, then. I can tell you are more powerful than when we last met. Kalan Lockeheart must have taken some particular care in training you…he must have used some kind of time magic to train you so much in such a short time. But even if he gave you a year, it's not nearly enough. Even if you have that mysterious power and unique skills, you can't possibly think that it will be enough to stop me, a mage who has ruled for hundreds of years. To me, you're an infant, a child learning to walk…no matter what you try, you won't reach me."
Shirô just gave a battle cry and charged in. He leapt into the air and dived in with a savage slash, and Anya dodged aside almost too easily. He rounded on her, but she continued her retreat, casually avoiding each vicious strike. "Well, I will commend you," she offered. "You surpassed the resolve I thought you capable of; you can ignore the fact that I'm but a girl and attack me as an enemy. But attacks like those aren't enough." She suddenly blocked Shirô's latest strike with a mana blade that sprouted from her hand, and then repelled the surprised young man. She leapt in with a savage slash of her own, which Shirô deflected, and then suddenly blades of mana began to appear in the air around her, flashing forth in succession to attack Shirô.
The boy retreated, striking down each blade in turn, until suddenly his feet rooted to the spot, unable to move. Those energy-swords sprouted from the floor in a circle around his, rising ponderously and threateningly up to eye level, and a similar circle of the weapons appeared high in the air over his head. Still with that lazy danger, they all turned their points towards him simultaneously and then descended in a flash.
And were met by another flash, as each blade was stopped by a similar, seemingly real blade that manifested in defense of the young man. Anya's eyes widened in shock as the blades all, energy and solid, fell aside and vanished away. "That is…true Projection…so many at once…that means…."
Shirô, his feet freed, turned carefully to fully face Anya, his face a still and stoic mask. He closed his eyes and began to chant quietly.
"I am the bone of my sword. Steel is my body and fire is my blood. I have created over a thousand blades. Unaware of loss, nor aware of gain, I have withstood pain to create weapons, waiting for One's arrival. I have no regrets. This is the only path. My whole life was Unlimited Blade Works."
The world warped, into a glorious new scene. Unlike the dark and almost gothic scene of sky-bound gears in the version of the ability used by Archer, the world Shirô created was a wide plain of rolling hills and tall grass, lit by an eternally-setting sun. Swords still dotted the landscape, most in close proximity to Shirô.
"I see," Anya murmured, her eyes shining. "Even more than I expected. So, this is your real power, your true self; this is your Reality Marble. The highest level of thaumaturgy, embodying your inner world and essence and imprinting it upon the material plane, a magic so high-level that no mortal human could possibly have a magical presence high enough to cast it from his own self. Only superhuman creatures, like Infernals and Celestials, can do that; otherwise, you'd need an artifact. I guess technically that's the case for you, isn't it? This is your power; 'Sword' is your Origin and your Elemental Affinity, and unlike most whose soul consists of that power, you did not gain a single sword, but you truly are a sword yourself. The absorbtion of Excalibur's scabbard mutated you, unleashing this mighty magical power—and perhaps that's what you actually are, a scabbard for any number of swords, of every sword.
"And that explains why you fascinated me so; we share more of a connection than I realized. This power of yours is not so far from my own. You do not Conjure weapons, but Project them, calling them forth from this Reality Marble; after seeing a weapon, you are able to copy its essence and store it here, then bring it out at need." She smiled. "Yes, I underestimated you. Even a great mage would be unable to stand up to a power of this caliber. But like you, I do not 'Conjure' or Summon Servants, fashioning inferior warriors out of magic or making contracts with powers above. I Project my own Servants to do my bidding." Suddenly around her forms began to materialize; some of them were recognizable, including the Rider, Assassin, and Lancer Shirô had encountered previously.
Shirô had been silent and still this whole time; as the Projected Servants began to ready themselves to charge, however, he suddenly leapt into action, dashing forward with two longswords that materialized in his hands.
The exchange turned into a blindingly fast action sequence, as Servants swooped in to battle Shirô, and he cut them down swiftly and without remorse. His blades were lost after a few exchanges, but more always appeared in his hands to replace them. The unspoken rule Anya had not mentioned in her attempt to intimidate the boy was that while she could Project warriors of power superior to 'ordinary' magical conjurations, rapidly Projected warriors like this, with no time or energy sufficiently donated to the spell, were not as powerful as those he had fought before, and after all his training, they were no match for him. He advanced, his movements lightning-quick but his overall progress slow as the minions moved in one after another to oppose him, only to be cut down.
Anya was chanting all the while, however, and as Shirô cut down the last foe that stood between them and lunged forward with a large two-handed sword to finally strike her down, a barrier flashed in front of him, and the collision raised a cloud of sparking energy. He could feel the power of this field, how it not only protected Anya, but was even threatening to draw in and pull away all his own mana. The sword in his hand shattered, and Anya raised a hand in triumph….
Shirô gave a guttural cry and raised a hand, and a beautiful golden sword appeared in it…Excalibur. The sword collided with the field, creating an even bigger mist of straining power, and as Anya's eyes widened in shock, he raised his other hand, and a second sword, nearly Excalibur's twin but with a great silver blade, appeared in that hand.
"Impossible!" Anya cried. "A holy sword like Excalibur should be impossible to project…but that, too!? The original sword of Arthur, the Sword in the Stone, which broke…Caliburn!"
Although its legend was equally impressive, Caliburn was actually not even as powerful as Excalibur was, being a king's sword, a decorative symbol that signified Arthur's legitimacy but paid for its dazzling appearance with lesser practical enchantments; hence the reason it broke in the first place. But with Excalibur, its sister sword, created specifically to be Arthur's sword of war, on hand, the two swords worked together to create an even greater power. Together they shattered Anya's shield, and tore into her with an X-shaped slash. She cried out and fell on her face, lying still.
The two blades in Shirô's hands shattered and faded away into nothing, and then the Reality Marble faded, leaving them once again in Anya's mansion. Shirô swayed, just stopped his staggering, and coughed up some blood. He finally managed to steady himself, and turned towards Rin.
The girl managed to open her eyes and glance up at him as he approached. "You idiot," she muttered. "What did you come for? You couldn't…believe you'd win…."
"That doesn't matter," Shirô replied. He wasn't the type to point out that such speculation was pointless, since he had won. Instead he said, "I had to win. Now…it's all over…."
"Is it?" murmured Anya from behind him, and as he turned around in shock, she surged to her knees. Dark, malevolent energy poured out in a palpable stream, filling the chamber. "You've beaten me…you've driven me, who should have lived beautifully forever, to death's door. But if I die, I'll take all of you with me to Hell with the power I've gathered…!"
Then an arrow of light suddenly pierced her chest, and she gasped out as the power was snuffed as quickly as it had come. Shirô stared at the interloper as Anya fell to the ground once again and remained completely still. "Archer…!"
Rin smiled as she struggled to sit up, the magical bond on her weakening. "You fool…you just have to play around with that last-minute timing, don't you? Some Servant you are."
Archer smiled grimly, almost sadly. "Yes…I'm sorry, Rin. I failed you completely. I'm an incompetent Servant, whose own desires and prejudices put you in danger. I had to rely on the one I despised to save you. My acts are unconscionable…and my service to you…."
"Your service to me continues," Rin insisted, managed to force herself to her feet and, despite the weakness still evident in her body, assume her most authoritative and arrogant posture. "Don't think this lapse will allow you to weasel out of it." As Archer glanced up at her, painful protest obviously on his lips, she silenced him with an accusing finger. "Enough. I know about it, you know. Who and what you really are. I was waiting a long time for you idiots to rescue me, and Analia Chovos-san was incredibly talkative. That doesn't matter. You're the spirit I summoned, whatever you are, and until I release you from my service, you do as I say. That time hasn't come yet. I need you, Archer; and that's who you'll remain, as long as I do. Or do I need to use another Command Seal to get you to accept it?"
Archer finally smiled. The 'Command Seals' were tattoo-like magical images imprinted into a mage's flesh at the time of contracting Heroic Spirits, allowing them to force compliance with their commands in extreme circumstances. They were given three of them, and Rin had already used one. It was a moment known only to Rin and Archer; after the initial summoning, as Archer chided her on her mistake in summoning him and teased her for it, she grew incensed and commanded him to 'cease his prattling' and submit with total obedience to her will. Such a wide-ranging command could not actually be enforced—if it could, the point of three seals would be useless in any case—but Rin's magical power did force Archer to silence and imbue a kind of subconscious reverence towards the girl, at the cost of her Command Seal. Archer recognized the power Rin possessed to even temporarily and in a rather weak fashion force such compliance, and he had actually been impressed, and resolved to respect Rin from that event. Because of this, while Shirô was lost at the meaning of the exchange, Archer chuckled. "No. I do not need to have that reminder. If you know everything and still do not object to my service, then I will continue to follow you, my Master." He gave a more respectful bow from his kneeling position.
Rin nodded and turned to Shirô. "Well," she began, then reddened slightly and looked away suddenly, not meeting his eyes. "I…guess I owe you my thanks…you did save me. You've put an end to this problem at the same time, so don't think that saving me will make me forgive you for stealing my thunder in doing my job here…."
"What a tsundere!" Aiden called from the door, where the four adults observed the scene. "Why don't you give him a proper reward, like a kiss or something?"
The two youths started and reddened furiously, eyes wide as they stared at the intruder. "A-Aiden Rylack!" Rin managed. "What are you doing here!?"
"We were just in the neighborhood and stopped by," Aiden continued. "In any case, I'd rather not linger around here. I really think we ought to go home and celebrate, and let an 'accident' take care of this little bit of architecture…."
Iria slapped her hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Hmm…I'm good at these kinds of 'accidents'…."
"Please wait until we get home, at least," Aeli pleaded.
8-8-8
The seven of them returned to their base of operations in the city, which was, of course, Shirô's home. At least it was large enough to generously house them all and let them celebrate their achievement…and discuss their future plans.
"Transfer to Mahora Academy?" Shirô demanded in surprise as the invitation was given.
"That's a rather interesting proposal," Rin commented. "What brought this on?"
"Well, it's pretty simple," Kalan replied. "I'm going back to Mahora now; and I'd like to take Shirô with me, as my permanent apprentice."
Aiden snorted. "That's pretty new. You've never even wanted an apprentice before."
Kalan shrugged. "Well, I was cheated out of being with my son for his formative years; I wouldn't call this a replacement, it shouldn't be considered that, but…it feels right. I think Shirô has a bright future in the world ahead, and I'd like to help him grow into it." He turned his attention back to the young man. "Of course, that's only if you want it. Your future is up to you. But I am quite earnest about my offer."
Shirô stared back at him placidly. "My dream…has always been to be a 'hero'…someone just like you," Shirô replied in all seriousness. "Of course, these last…few days…I've seen some realities I never knew existed before…after considering everything carefully…I still can't shake myself from that past. I have seen some harsh truths, but it doesn't change what I really believe. I will reconcile them all with what I've seen and learned, and what comes with the future. Following you as your apprentice…I believe that's the path in life that I desire most, that's best for me. I am more than happy to accept your offer. Thank you, Kalan-sensei."
The young man bowed, and Kalan waved for him to cease. Rin gave a small laugh of teasing derision. "Well, now, don't regret your decision," she said. "It's not going to be a picnic for you. Kalan-san is returning to Mahora to help his son Kain-sensei complete his project to peacefully integrate Earth and Arcanus Myrror. If you follow him, you're signing up for the long haul. Don't slack off, or drag them down, or you'll regret it."
Shirô turned a curious look her way. "Ah…and what is Tôsaka-san planning to do now…?"
"Of course, I'm going back, too," Rin replied nonchalantly. "I only came here to investigate and stop the mysterious illegal magic in the city, and since that's been done, there's no reason to stay. I'll have my eye on you while we're there, so watch yourself."
"In other words, the young lady's excited to have the young knight in her court," Aiden said gleefully.
"W-why do you always have to turn things that way!?" Rin roared, red-faced.
The group laughed, then Aeli asked, "What about you, Aiden? Iria? Might you be joining us?"
"No, not before, not now," Aiden denied. "I've actually been doing a bit too much adventuring again recently, with everything that's happened. Right now I need to work on saving my marriage. See, as my wife pointed out before, I got a new lease on youth, and she's been left behind. So, I heard about a secluded Fountain of Youth in the Elven lands, and thought we might give her a sip to even the scales a little…."
Another laugh followed. "Normally, I'd warn you to be cautious with those kinds of tales and treasures," Kalan said. "But I know you'd never listen anyway. Besides, knowing you, you'll succeed. I'll be counting on you to watch Kain's descendants…."
"Oh, c'mon…I'm not the kind of guy who'd want to live that long…."
The group continued their banter late into the night, four veteran heroes, two youths striving for the title, and one enigmatic Servant, watching them invisibly while considering the peace he'd found for his own immortal soul….
F I N
Author's Note: Heaven's Feel
Another joke on Fate/Stay Night, Heaven's Feel is the third and most messed-up alternate storyline to the Fate universe. Anyway….
I used a lot of Shirô's background for the base of what happened with him. The Fate universe is an incredibly, quite impressively-constructed magical background world, with history, technical analysis, and generally acceptable logic and reason behind a lot of its magical rules, terms, etc. The history of Arthur as a woman is something else, but the effort put into building that world was obviously immense.
I perhaps included too much detail on it, but it fascinates me that much. Anyway, I don't have a lot to say there. As I talked about earlier, Anya is just a villainess I made for this part, playing around with a few things as I tried to make a villain strong enough to make a mark here. While very arrogant, and quite skilled and learned after living so many centuries as a mage, she couldn't actually compete with the highest-caliber mages, i.e., any of the Red Wings, but she made a fine opponent for a pumped-up Shirô to fight. There's a bit more to his powers that I didn't explain, and a bit more to how I designed her powers to oppose/complement them, but in the end, they're both minor characters in this work, and I think I've spent enough time with them.
So, that's the end of this mini-arc. Back to Kain pretty much for the duration.