Taremis turned around on the pure alter, her position, her actions all seemed to damn the existence of God. She looked to the moon, one of the many symbols of pagan religion. Her voice remained hostile, as if she were safeguarding herself from the rest of the world. The soft gaze of the moon seemed to sanctify everything, anything near the windows were blessed by the mellifluous lighting. In contrast to this calm setting, Taremis remained especially acrid to Shirou.
"Magus. I only have one rule guiding my life. That is to not trust Magi with anything."
Shirou didn't act surprised, he just nodded and focused on the alabaster moon, radiant with the beauty. He thought of it ironic, something this resplendent would twinkle above a holy ground that might have been a battleground.
"I never expected you to."
Taremis sighed and turned around, she jumped off the stone alter, landing with a delicate wisp sound. Shirou looked into her eyes, those crystal blue eyes seemed to show a sense of purity inside them, but at the same time, looking into those eyes almost struck him physically. In her mind, he could read it, something about those eyes showed a series of barriers, sharp points that seemed to pierce anything with her cold gaze. Shirou averted his eyes.
"Now, have you read the orders Taremis?"
She frowned and bitterly walked to the alter. Her footsteps were irregular, displaying a sense of insecurity in her position.
"First, I hope you don't think I'm so inept that I couldn't even read an order. Secondly, don't you dare call me that."
Shirou unfurled one eyebrow, he was fairly confused on what exactly she was talking about. All Shirou could understand about her is that she seemed to exist in a past full of tribulation, full of grief.
"What do you mean?"
"You... Magus, you called me by my first name, that is not something your kind will be allowed to do."
He wished to respond to her, hoped to inquire why she hated the Magi so much. In all of this contemplation, he remained placid, too hesitant to actually ask why. He collected his thoughts and dwelt in his own past. This wasn't the first time he had received this sort of hostility from another person who was not a Magus. In fact, he had received enough hostility from other Magi just because of his single ability. If the history of human nature were to be a textbook, then the words emblazoned in large crimson letters would be: Different is not accepted.
"I'm sorry... Sister."
Taremis pretended not to even notice, but even more, she didn't even care what Shirou did. She walked to the podium situated in the center of the elevated stage. After pulling a lever, metallic clinks started to resonate throughout the entire building. The stone walls acted as perfect echo transmitters. The long purple rug running down the center aisle of the two sets of pew pulled back, revealing a winding staircase into the dark unknown. As the rug was being pulled back, the floor shook violently, almost throwing Shirou off into a row of pews. Taremis climbed down the winding staircase before disappearing. Of all of the years he had seen the church, he never expected that this place would exist below the church. He hesitated before gathering enough nerves to follow blindly. The deep plunge into the darkness stirred up something that happened in the past. As if in instinct, he started to trace a large silvery dagger in his hand. The aurous mist appeared, enclosing the darkness by expanding itself before fading away. The moonlight glimmered off of the silvery knife. Shirou tucked the knife into his coat pocket before descending down the stairs with Taremis. As he descended down the stairs winding around a strong stone pillar like a corkscrew, he noticed a couple lights flicker on below. The Sister was already downstairs. Finally, a large light in what seemed to be the center of the room flickered on. The large incandescent lamps murmured with one another, making the entire room sound like an auditorium. The lights all gathered around a single large wooden table that had intricate carvings running down the sides of the legs as well as around the border edges of the table. Everything around this central location smelled of fuel and sweat.
"Sister, where are we?"
Taremis simply tapped one of the wall before causing all of the lights to flood in like a ram, the flood lamps installed directly into the roof brightened up the strange room. There were a series of radios and screens at the far end of the room, somewhat covered by a musky old sheet that was torn in a number of places.
"This place is the location of an underground headquarters for the Japanese during World War II. It is now the church meeting place for these types of situations and the grounds where masters can seek refuge."
Shirou silently took a seat in one of the mahogany wooden chairs that were obviously not polished well. The splinters seemed to try anyone's wits who wished to sit in the chair, but the cushion, unlike the rest of the room remained in almost immaculate condition, except for the small smudge in the top left corner. Taremis took a seat near his and looked uneasy.
"Magus, do you have any questions?"
Shirou finally had a good look at what Taremis looked like, she had long, flowing blond hair that rolled down to her shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes sharpened her figure rather than soften it like he thought it should have. Her pale white face had a glimpse of almost incomparable beauty, comparable to the Gods. Shirou immediately looked away, as bitter and hostile as she was, he had just judged her externally as absolutely stunning. Trying to disregard his analysis, he coughed and shifted in his seat. He adjusted himself before clasping both of his hands and settling them on the table.
"Well, the truth is..."
Shirou awkwardly coughed once more.
"Why do you hate Magi so much."
Taremis began to laugh, her laugh created a tense environment that was very awkward at the same time. Her eyes became defensive once more.
"That's something personal to me."
"In all of my travels, I've heard it all, someone pillage their village, killed their parents... et cetera, et cetera. Oh, once someone had their painting stolen by a Magi... that one was interesting."
Taremis's defenses slowly eroded, her past recalled a person who was just like this man, but she had judged to be far different. A small smile, so minuscule that one would need a magnifying glass to reveal appeared.
"Really, Magus, what do you do?"
"Me? I'm a Rehems, but interestingly enough, they told me to settle down here."
Taremis looked at Shirou strangely, she seemed to be more relaxed, more amiable towards Shirou, but for this small amount, she began to take back her ground.
"What's a Rea-hems?"
"Simply put, a wanderer. I do jobs around Europe for the Association and get my stipend when I visit any one of their office buildings. What about you?"
"I think I would be the equivalent for your kind. I'm a traveling minister."
It was then that Shirou made a mistake, this atmosphere that created a more friendly relationship between the two was completely shattered by Shirou's callousness.
"As a traveling priest, do you use anything like magic?"
Taremis skidded out of her seat, the rattling of the wood crackling against the rough stone floor cut away at Shirou's eardrums. Her eyes, the ones where the Atlantic Wall fell were redoubled and armed to the teeth.
"Magus, never even consider that an agent for the Vatican would ever muddle around with your dark art. Anyone who has tried caused everyone around them to suffer. Is it not your kinds fault that Kotomine ended up summoning something so despicable that all men around the world would have suffered if it was not for a deal of luck?"
Shirou took the blow hard, the only reason why he had continued with being a Magus was because of that situation. He had hoped to fix that and finally get what he had so long wished for. Anger swelled up inside him, his emotional complex was overrun. Shirou caustically answered.
"My kind? If your kind had picked someone better..."
A drop of sweat precipitated from the crown of his head, he gritted his teeth, staring Taremis straight in the eyes. Taremis once more ignored what he had said, she evidentially did not value the life of a Magus or anything he/she had to say.
"It's late Magus, come, it's time to summon your Servant. You'll need the knife in your pocket."
Shirou already knew what needed to happen, he slowly trudged to a cleared out section of the colossal room. Etched into the floor was a number of circles with a center piece. There was a smaller circle in the center, enclosed by a larger one. Then there were triangles running up and down the gap between the two. Taremis held a large metal container in her hand, there was sticker attached to the top of the box. The familiar red cross brought safety provisions such as gauze and hydrogen peroxide. She left the box on the wooden table before ascending up the stairs.
"Magus, when you are done, come up the stairs."
As she climbed up the stairs, Shirou silently pulled out the silver dagger and grazed his arm. A trickle of blood seeped out of the cut. Shirou winced and raised the dagger high into the air before piercing his hand. A fountain of burgundy blossomed that night, in hopes to give life to a greater being. Shirou closed his eyes and tried to channel mana into the floor. The floor was illuminated with the color of the morning sky and showered the bleak stone walls with a radiant sea. Shirou started to feel weak, his drained body could barely handle any more of this. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the foundations of the church. Shirou was blow back onto the wooden table in the center room and was thrown onto his back. Smoke filled the area and Shirou struggled to look at what had happened. The smoke slowly cleared out of the darkened room and Shirou could sense it. A servant, waiting at the doorway of the two rooms. The servant, clad in armor slowly walked out, brushing away the vapors.