Chapter 7
A gentle, much welcomed breeze tugged at Anniina Edelfelt's hair as she gazed out at the city of Hachiōji, Tokyo, below. Surrounded by mountains, it was bereft of the clutter, noise, and pollution that plagued those places further west and brushing aside brunette curls dangling down her forehead like the many paper lanterns lit outside the tiny, slant-roofed houses of the neighborhood, a light fog from a late night shower had rolled in within the last several hours, making the lanterns seem like will-o'-wisps in the gloom. There were thousands of them, and if she were still the little girl who dreamed of fairies and griffons, she would've believed that beneath them laid the buried treasure and sacred tombs of her ancestors.
… But, that was before she and her sister were sent to a foreign land far from their own to study the arcane arts.
Before they had become proper magi.
A land where modernization thrived, and the tales of old died.
Where the little girl she used to be died along with them.
And now, they were somewhere else even farther away, to participate in a war neither of them had even heard of until recently. The Holy Grail War—it was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that'd secure her family's place in the world of magi and assert their holdings within the Clock Tower.
Watching the train that always came thundering down through the neighbor from the south, carrying shipments of supplies needed for the other "great war" at the tip of everyone's tongue, filling the sky with a thick, black, and ugly smog, she was glad that the battlefield—their battlefield—was far removed from the ongoing circumstances. The concerns of the nations fighting in this second "war to end all wars" meant little to her.
They were being sent straight into the jaws of death, and had half a mind to trade in her gems for a brush and follow the same path as her great-grandfather. Strive to become successful like he was, and live happily ever after without fear of her family's disappointment, but, akin to committing suicide, the thought was something so shameful and cowardly that it'd be better to simply plummet to her death than live with the humiliation. She imagined the first thing for people to see in the morning to be her corpse, splattered across the dirt street below and laughed bitterly.
Almost as if he were there to stop her, her Servant materialized, standing upon the very spot she might have decided to throw herself if she were to actually go through with the selfish act and leave her twin to fight alone.
One of the most prominent heroes from her homeland, he was little more than a shade of his true self, and, catching the tail end of the train as it disappeared into the mountains, Anniina didn't want to be reminded of herself whenever she looked upon his visage.
The mountains.
Somewhere on it sat the ruins of the castle said to be haunted by the ghosts of its fallen defenders and the enemies that'd slain them. Horses could be heard galloping, soldiers' screams echoing, and the clashing of arms reverberating throughout its forests during the early hours of 2 to 3 o'clock. The witching hour, when the veil between the land of dead and the land of living was at its thinnest. Yūrei, what the local's word for them was. Apparitions.
Though, after staking them out for the last week these claims were nothing more than the imagination of the ignorant, and if there were any real truth to them, she would've noticed something by now. Especially the raising of the dead.
Rather, they were leylines—ancient earth energies that amplified magecraft underneath the ground—found in every corner of the world.
Rarely plentiful enough to hold abundant sources of power, sometimes—such as the case with these "apparitions"—they were known to cause hallucinations. Places of nature, the forest—or the mountains themselves—and not the castle, was the real culprit here.
Even so, unless the battlefield brought them there it wasn't worth the time to investigate further, go in for a closer look, better spent doing final preparations in order to come out victorious in the War.
Resting her head on her arms, she brought her knees to her chest. Perched on the second floor balcony of the mansion their parents commissioned for them years in advance, perilously close to its edge, what she wanted was what any normal older sibling would: for her sister to be safe. That no harm should come to her, so long as she lived. In Annaliisa's place would she willingly give her own life to see the future of the Edelfelt bloodline succeeded, and, perhaps, to be remembered not as a failure, but, a savior.
That was all she could hope to find here, when it came down to it.
Some more hours later, she still sat at the same spot, looking at the sun reaching over the mountains and bathing the city in its light, washing it clean and freeing it momentarily from the shackles of industry, as everything stopped so that everyone might pray. Pray for those souls lost fighting over the summer, as they wallowed in darkness forever. For those that were still fighting, as the most recent conflict, while at a standstill at the moment, would no doubt continue into the month. Paper lanterns were replaced with incense, and the sweet fragrance of burning, scented candles wafted up to the mansion, carried by the wind.
... The God Izanagi no Mikoto,
With all the respect from the depth of our hearts,
We ask that they hear us, such as the spirit that hears our intent,
With sharpened ears, together with the spirits of the Sky and the Land,
Take the badness, disasters, and sins and purify all.
For expansion of our souls.
And the fulfillment of your will…
Today they were to meet with the new supervisor from the Holy Church who was to preside over the War because the outcome of the previous one proved that magi couldn't be trusted to govern themselves.
The Holy Church was already on uneven terms with the Association, and now they were intruding upon a ritual solely designed for magi, by magi, and, while she didn't mind the intrusion, her sister did. Annaliisa was thick-headed, quick-tempered, and not afraid to voice her discontent with the things in life that she could do without. If this supervisor and she were to meet it would cause trouble and widen the rift between the Church and Association in the process. Furthermore, not without mentioning, their chances of winning would also be at risk. So, not only would they spark conflict with the two organizations, but also their parents, if they ended up losing because of it.
And she'd rather not face the consequences of either.
"What ails you, my other little maiden fair?" her sister's Servant, the real Saber, wholly intact in body and mind—unlike hers—whispered. Standing behind her, sly as a cat, he purred in her ear. "Is it my other half. How he is not the same as I?"
It tickled. "Not exactly."
She felt her neck tingle, his hair brushing her skin.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her tight, snug and warm in his burly embrace. "Does this help to soothe such a sorry sight?"
She took his hand in hers, and squeezed. "Yes, it does. Now unhand me."
He did, slowly. "Very well." Light-footed, he slunk back with a gentleman's grin. "Quite resistant to my charms, as only the very best women should be."
When she turned to look upon him, the tickle became an itch. The result of his geis, enticing men and women alike to his charming wooes. A spell she'd properly protected herself against, and judging by the lingering aroma of his nightly escapades, many others in the time since his summoning hadn't.
His eyes twinkling behind tousled brown hair speckled grey, their mesmerizing green like the sea upon the shore, his features were strong and defined, face and body nurtured and raised from the earth itself. He was nothing short of handsome and, as he said his farewells she couldn't help but wonder why her Saber was so vastly different.
Where Annaliisa's Saber was tall, hers was short.
Where her Saber was well-built, hers was pathetically so.
Where hers was merry, hers was gloomy.
Where he was striking, he was dull.
Her sister's Servant was the embodiment of his legend, while hers… wasn't. They were supposed to be one and the same, but…
She turned from the ledge, now seeing him by the balcony entrance.
Where her sister's Servant was charming, her Servant was uninviting.
He stood there awkward and stiff, and when she asked what he wanted, the massive, black sword across his back, naked and plain, rusty, spoke for him, informing her that her sister waited for her downstairs.
"It would be within your best interest not to tarry long, little lamp," it said.
For him to be mute and his weapon to be his mouthpiece was quite the shock when she first summoned him, but, now it was something she was convinced had to do with his current state though the sword declined to elaborate.
"Thank you," she said, finally getting up.
And mark her words, whatever it was, she would find out sooner or later even if she had to threaten it over a blacksmith's melting pot. For, she knew, it could mean the difference between attaining her wish, and not.
"... Finally!"
A scarf wrapped around her neck, rubbing her mittened hands together in the cold, her twin sister's golden-blonde hair, normally curled, hung straight down past her shoulders, damp.
"Just look at this! These clothes are so...! And, my hair is…!" She held up a clump of wet and twisted ends. "And it's all his fault!"
Kicking her Servant, he just laughed and rubbed her head, making it even worse. "Ah! What's the matter, my little maiden fair?"
"You, obviously," the sword said.
"Surely not I? Why, it was the puddle's fault!"
"Grrr! Forget it!" Annaliisa screamed, stomping off down the road. "Let's just go and get this over with! Come on, Anni!"
Ignoring the beauty of the country in its late summer season, she carved a fiery, feisty path to the church. If anything, her steaming temper would dry her out in little to no time at all.
"Quite the fire inside that one. A very sought after quality when she becomes a bride, someday soon," the sword remarked, as they walked along. "And, you, yourself, my little lamp, are—"
She tossed it one nasty look back, and it fell silent.
Sakura trees swayed above their heads, cherry blossoms falling around them, their pink petals littering the path.
At seventeen years of age, they were at their peak to be wed to the most desirable of them. It was a tradition that both of them could look forward to, and her only option to redeem herself in her parents' eyes if they failed to claim the Grail, but, if she could help it that'd be a long ways off and no damned sword was going to tell her otherwise and before long, still catching the occasional curious stare they arrived at the church, where a man in the black cloth of the Church stood waiting at the entrance, an inviting smile upon his face. As they approached, he bowed respectively.
"Welcome, Lady Edelfelts. It's a pleasure that we finally make acquaintances. My name is Risei Kotomine, and I am the designated Overseer for what they are calling this Third Holy Grail War." He opened the door. "After you."
"As it should be." Annaliisa shouldered past him, her Saber going in straight after, apologizing for his Master's behavior as he did.
"And same to you," Anniina said.
"Thank you, ma'am," the man replied, closing the door and re-lighting candles on his way up to his podium.
The church was small, barely large enough to fit twenty people. With five people, it already felt cramped, but, unbeknownst to them, there were two other guests here, as well, for a total of seven. Eyeing them, one a boy around their age and the other a woman many years older, they could none other be a Master and his Servant—or, a Master and her Servant. She was inclined to think more the former, than the latter and, just the same, so too were they being eyed closely. The woman smiled. The boy smirked. Mockingly so. Annaliisa glared back and Kotomine must've caught the animosity rising in the room, so he cleared his throat and introduced them.
"Yes, my apologies. I had forgotten to inform you, but since all of you happened to be in the vicinity, I have decided to host one meeting instead of two. As such, Lady Edelfelts and Servants, if you will, please meet Lord Tohsaka and his. Lord Tohsaka and Servant, if you will, please meet the Lady Edelfelts and theirs."
He clapped his hands together, dispersing it from the room.
The boy was quick to offer his hand to her sister, but, at such a gesture—not even mentioning the fame of their family, how they were the first greatest in all of Finland, her beauty—Annaliisa scoffed, lifting her nose at the boy and his Servant. "Don't approach me, you r—"
"Hello, there!" her Saber said, waving a hand at them, interrupting what could very well have been the first blow of the War.
"Likewise," the boy's Servant replied.
Their eyes locked, but, whatever moment they shared, passed with not a thought as they rightly ignored one another immediately after. The woman then moved on to her.
"And to you, as well."
Anniina nodded, but said nothing in return. For some strange reason, she felt no need to. Was compelled, not to. She'd already shielded herself from any and all outside influences—otherwise, again, Annaliisa's Servant would've added her to his repertoire already—so then… why couldn't she speak back?
Undoubtedly noticing her putting up more barriers between them and checking the integrity of those she already had, the Servant giggled harmlessly. "Oh, I assure you, my dear, I have no tricks up my sleeves by which to sway you. No need to be so cautious." The smile widened. "At least, not for some time to come."
Figure curvaceous beneath dark clothing that clung rather loosely from her person, caught in the glow of the candles, and pale, sky blue eyes with braided hair blacker than midnight, Tohsaka's Servant was a captivatingly, hauntingly beautiful.
And, as the Overseer began to speak again, Saber leaned closer, the sword speaking into her ear. "It would be wise to watch this one at all times," it warned.
It didn't have to tell her that twice.
Just what, Anniina wondered, touching her breast and feeling how fast her heartbeat while her blood ran cold, had their parents gotten them involved in?
"... As you all are very well aware, the Holy Church has appointed me to preside over this Third Holy Grail War and to see that nothing unfortunate happens that would result in a mass loss of life, as the Second had. Master Tohsaka, I believe you know full well what I am referring to, but, as I understand it this is the first time the Edelfelt family of magi have been a part of something such as this. Therefore, if you would allow me to explain the reasoning behind my presence here to them, I would kindly ask that you and your Servant relieve yourselves for the time being..."
"You may, Overseer," Tohsaka said. Turning to leave, he called for his Servant to follow after. But, she stayed.
"I, also, have a desire to know," his Servant said. "If that is permissible, Master?"
She was asking his approval, yet Anniina felt that this Servant of Tohsaka's was not so easily obedient.
"Is it, Overseer?"
"I see no problem," Kotomine replied. "Ultimately, it is up to the Lady Edelfelts."
"Who cares! I just want to get this o—mhhmp!" Annaliisa's outburst was covered by her Saber's hand, as he again apologized for her brash behavior. "Let go of me!" she managed to huff after a brief, sibling-like struggle.
"As you say, my little maiden fair."
"That's better." She shoved him and turned back to Kotomine. "Well? Go on then," she said, gesturing.
Anniina frowned. Glancing over at Tohsaka's Servant, they shared a brief look. A strange, almost warm familiarity.
And waiting long enough for any tension to settle and Tohsaka had seen himself out, Kotomine began anew:
"Sixty years ago, the event known to us as the Second Holy Grail War occurred…" He paused momentarily, mulling over his words. "Yes, to call it a war would be nothing short of accurate. Nobody, save for those involved, knows what exactly transpired during that time, but, for what I have been told it was utterly gruesome.
Originally a formal gathering where all seven Servants were summoned, the participants swiftly turned it into a massacre with no regard for the lives around them and nothing of the global repercussions their actions would bring. Or, perhaps, that was the intention all along. As, years later, one of the largest conflicts in human history, as a direct result, shook the world because of it.
Just so, it was 'The Great War' of 1914 . And, now, it appears we are about to be plunged into a second. While it might be too late to stop the storm that is inevitably to come, the least we can do is make certain that a third never sees fruition. That is my reason for being here.
And, for the sake of preventing magi from murdering one another in the streets with no heed for the consequences, the Holy Church has hereby intervened and I hope that you both understand: while this may be your Third, we would not like one of our own."
"A justifiable reason as any," Tohsaka's Servant said. "Though, is it not because the Holy Church wants to obtain the holy chalice for themselves, as well? By stealing it from under the sight of those participating, they might wish this inevitable second war averted. Or, you, yourself."
"Very observant. While those above me would like to think this 'Holy Grail' to be the same that the Lord drank from, they are merely observers in a game I am the moderator of. I take my orders from them, not my actions. That said, there are certainly rules already set in place that I must abide by, but, to answer your curiosity: no, I have no such intentions. I am simply a priest, here to prevent a future conflict that with each passing day heats nearer to its boiling point. Now, let's continue on, shall we?"
Afterwards, back in their mansion, after a history lesson and explanation the rules, Anniina once again looking up at the mountains. Her sister and her Saber were out in the city, scouting while she mused upon everything the priest had spoken of, but, more importantly, Tohsaka's Servant was definitely Caster. There was no uncertainty in her mind about that. She would have to begin coming up with a plan to defeat her, countermeasures and all, immediately. And, in the case of the worst possible outcome...
... One down, six to go.