So, it's been a busy couple of months. I moved across, quit a job, started a new one, and my beta decided to land himself in the hospital. He's out now though, thank goodness. Anyway, here's the next chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it and stay patient enough while we grind out the next one.
Oh, and if you think it's taking too long, blame Inquisition. In fact, blame the entire series. I replayed through DAO, II, and am now playing Inquisition. Booyah.
The first blast of magic took Shirou by surprise and he barely evaded it by quickly jumping to his right and falling into a roll. As soon as he was on his feet, Bakuya was in his right hand, flowing straight up over his head and decapitating a zombie unfortunate enough to be near him. The second blast hit him dead center in his chest, sending him rolling back on the ground, disorientated. With a start, Shirou realized that the wind magic his enemy was using was gentle and was only used as a means of distraction while the zombies raced at him. If Rin's Gandr Shots were like bullets straight out of a sniper rifle with enough force to dismember him, then these "blasts" were like fluffy pillows that were being shot out of a giant nerf gun. They stunned him slightly, but he felt no pain whatsoever. He had no particular reason to be wary of them, which worked in his favor.
His enemy really did want him alive. Well, then, Shirou wasn't about to let her down if he could help it – and yes, his enemy was a she.
She had introduced herself as Valeria not shortly before beginning her offensive against him. Shirou had been incredibly surprised that she wasn't of Welsh, Scottish, or English descent. Her olive skin labeled her as someone from the Mediterranean area. For all he knew though, maybe she was from the Middle East. Europe seemed more likely in that it was closer, but he had no way of knowing for certain. It made him wonder what she was doing in Britain – it couldn't have been for any particularly good reason. Valeria was obviously an enemy. The question though, was whether she was just his enemy, or an enemy of the kingdom. Whose side was she on? Why was she there? What did she want with him? Rather, what did anyone want with him?
Something about her made him want to believe she was incredibly powerful. When he'd first seen her, Shirou could have sworn that he wouldn't get out of the battle without a fair share of bumps and bruises. However, maybe he'd actually been worrying for nothing. Maybe he was overestimating her a bit? A little bit of fear was seldom a bad thing, but perhaps he was taking it just a bit too far. There was no doubt that she was rather skilled in her abilities. One look around him at all of the things he had to deal with told him that well enough. These reanimations were the best he had ever witnessed – Caster's little skeleton familiars had nothing on these things. Of course, Caster hadn't really been trying, nor had she even needed to, considering how amazingly crappy of a Master he'd been. That aside though, for what they were, it was really incredible how well they had been constructed. It was almost as if they were normal, yet brainless, humans with rank, decaying skin.
Shirou frowned and turned to look at the zombies that were suddenly rushing at him. The stupid things, he lamented, also had to be the fastest undead objects he had ever come into contact with. Shirou couldn't really understand how they'd assaulted him on those deteriorating legs of theirs – was magic the reason they could move so well? Of course, he didn't really care, but he had to do some crowd control before things really got bad.
Shirou readied Bakuya, spun in a tight circle and using his momentum, he launched the white sword through the space in front of him. It spun gracefully as it sliced through one zombie's neck after another before making a full turn and arcing back. He caught Bakuya by its grip and wasted little time in heaving Kanshou through the air next to run down another line of zombies. The ebony blade silently cut through the air as its twin before did in a much similar arc. Just before the sword came back to his hand, his opponent attempted to distract him with yet another blast of wind magic, but Shirou stood his ground and let the puff of air flow over and around him. He chanced a glance at his opponent. The person didn't seem to mind that the magic wasn't causing him any trouble – rather, his enemy appeared somewhat satisfied.
He wasn't going to underestimate anyone again, though - that was only guaranteed to land him in an even deeper mess, as if he hadn't screwed up enough already. Just to be certain, Shirou pushed some more of his leftover prana into reinforcing his skin. His skin might as well have been as tough as a rhinoceros', with how much he'd reinforced it. Nothing aside of an enchanted weapon or a natural disaster was going to pierce him or cause any harm. He didn't know enough about the human body to reinforce all of his bones and organs, but if he did, that would've been his next plan of action. He also didn't have enough time to do a quick analysis of himself either – with how intricate the human body was, he would need a couple of hours at the very least.
Kanshou and Bakuya glittered dangerously in the dim lighting as he readied them for his next assault. One of his eyebrows rose as a zombie grasped at his arm and tried to bite him. Shirou watched bemusedly as a couple more zombies attempted to do the same thing to his neck and left arm as well. He slowly lifted his gaze to stare at the woman ten meters or so away from him. There was a slight smile on her face, as if she was amused by his circumstances. Bakuya sliced off the zombie attached to his left arm while Kanshou went for the one on his right. Collecting both swords into his right hand, he grasped hold of the leech attached to his neck and pulled it over his shoulder. The decaying body hit the ground and Shirou slammed his foot down onto the face. He struck both swords straight into the creature's heart not even moments later and then stood up again.
The good news was that he hadn't felt any pain whatsoever from the bites. The bad news was that she kept making more familiars with each one he put down. The ten or fifteen zombies he'd taken care of were replaced with more within a very short amount of time and so he was essentially wasting energy trying to take them down. The only choice left was for Shirou to directly attack the main source behind the zombies instead of trying to whittle his enemies down one by one.
The redhead took in a deep breath to steady himself before launching himself forward and straight through the crowd of undead. His eyes focused readily on the woman directly ahead of him, watching her notice his intent to end it all with a final blow. One of her hands rose slowly, gently, and gracefully, and within seconds, five zombies were blocking his path. Frowning slightly, Shirou bent down low to the ground as he ran before leaping up high into the air. His feet landing on each zombie's head, he bounced from side to side before touching back down on the ground and continuing forth.
As he neared closer and closer, Valeria's eyes narrowed slightly. Shirou gritted his teeth when a few more zombies slid in front of her. He pulled his left arm back and then flicked it forward, sending Kanshou flying in a large arc that seemed to barely miss hitting his target and instead whizzed straight past her right shoulder. He grunted and looked somewhat annoyed while Valeria merely seemed surprised. He couldn't really blame her – mages didn't do close combat. She did manage a small smile though.
"You missed me."
Shirou struck down two more zombies with Bakuya, a soft sigh escaping his mouth right before he smirked at her.
"I wasn't aiming for you."
Her smile slipped away almost immediately and she turned her gaze around to see Kanshou narrowing straight in on her, its aim well and true. Shirou pushed himself forward to make sure Kanshou would complete its path back to its brother without mishap. For a moment, a flicker of doubt passed over him and he just barely managed to shift the white sword over to the right side of chest before Kanshou struck. He didn't want to kill her – he needed answers after all – but perhaps it didn't matter in the end anyway.
When his precious sword shattered into pieces, Shirou wasn't quite sure what had happened. Valeria's eyes were wide, her arm extended due to her funneling prana out into a barrier strong enough to send his sword into small bits. Shirou stared as the glittering pieces of the ebony scattered through the air. Valeria's breath escaped her and she seemed to turn back from her close call with death increasingly slowly; Shirou gripped Bakuya more tightly. Taking one step forward, Bakuya was lowered close to the ground until Shirou slashed it upward towards Valeria in one last act of defiance. A thin line of red appeared across her stomach, though she had managed to escape any real bodily harm.
As Shirou finished following through with his attack, he found himself staring into her eyes that were wide with disbelief and a slight tinge of fear. Her green eyes then began to narrow, and he could swear he saw a brief flash within them before anger flooded her features and she regained control over herself. Time seemed to slow for him in that short moment of time and as he was gearing himself up to jump back, her hand shot out towards his chest.
"Oh shit," was the only thing he managed before a fierce gale of concentrated wind slammed straight into his chest and sent him rocketing straight back like a missile.
He bounced a couple of times against the stone floor before rolling to a stop as he tried to catch his breath. Shirou slowly lifted a hand up to his chest and tenderly touched his skin. His hand trembled as he realized she'd nearly canceled out his reinforcement magecraft with the ferocity of her attack. If he hadn't reinforced himself so heavily, he definitely would have either died from that blast, or had a broken sternum, at the very least. His golden-brown eyes shifted back to look at her before widening as he saw yet another attack charge straight at him, barreling right into and through the very zombies she herself had created. Shirou's heart jumped into his throat as he gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the ground into a backwards somersault, barely avoiding certain doom.
As the gale sped past him, he watched as it slammed into a stone wall and indented it. Shirou's mouth gaped open slightly. No, that wasn't good. Even if it weren't for the fact that he would've practically died if he'd got hit with that, there was also the problem of them being noticed by someone in the castle above them. Besides, what if she hit enough of the foundation and caused a cave-in or something?
"Hey!" he yelled at her. "What happened to taking me alive?"
"I doubt you will die so easily," she answered in turn, a frown on her face. "I should hope you do not, at the very least. That will make things far more interesting for me."
Another gale sped through as she finished speaking, and Shirou jumped out of its path. His chest burned where he had been hit, but he simply poured more prana into his skin, reinforcing it again. He attempted to flank her by dodging in between zombies and coming around on her right, but she basically shred that idea to pieces by turning his way and sending forth yet even more bursts of wind.
Fine. So he had to deal with long-distance attack maneuvers. He could do that – rather, that was probably better than anything else for him. Shirou materialized his bow and gripped it tightly as he ran around her in a wide circle. The zombies were fast, but they weren't agile or quick enough to give him too much of an issue. He projected three arrows, aimed them directly for his target and let each one fly simultaneously. Each arrow crashed into the barrier she constructed and shattered into tiny pieces again, much like Kanshou had.
Damn it. How much prana did she have fueling that thing? He would have to step things up a bit. Durandal appeared in his hand and he strung his new arrow.
This particular sword had taken Shirou a bit of time before he could accurately recreate the sharpness it was known for. It was one of the many swords he had seen come out of Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon during the war, though he hadn't needed to rely on it much throughout the years. Working together with his genius friend had rendered most of his projections unnecessary, actually, but she had still forced him to continue practicing just in case he did need it at some point. Usually, though, Kanshou and Bakuya were more than good enough to complete any jobs he dealt with. However, if those two couldn't do anything...
Shirou continued running around her in a counterclockwise direction, eyes narrowed as he prepared for his next attack. Valeria frowned when she saw his new weapon of choice and calculated his speed, sending a giant gust of wind straight for where he was predicted to be. Shirou grunted slightly, jumped back and sent Durandal flying. It was so fast that it whistled as it raced through the air. Valeria threw up her barrier quickly, a few zombies falling and turning back into ordinary mud as she reserved her magic primarily for the current danger in front of her.
Durandal hit the barrier with a brutal force, and for a while, Shirou could see Valeria struggling with keeping the sword away from her. One zombie after another fell to the ground in clumps of mud, and Valeria's hands trembled as Durandal fought to pierce through. Eventually, the woman won as Durandal fell to the stone ground with a large clang before shattering. She had managed to deter his attack, but at the cost of a fourth of her army of undead. Being too depleted of prana to utilize the Noble Phantasm accurately, Shirou didn't even bother worrying about the spilt milk, having already created Dáinsleif by the time she'd started to recover. If Durandal hadn't worked, then this one was sure to.
The reddish sword glittered maliciously as he strung it. He didn't wait even a single second more before sending it flying at her. Valeria growled, but seemed to immediately recognize the danger the demonic sword posed to her. Shirou saw the rest of the mud familiars fall to the ground in lumps as she focused all of her concentration solely on blocking this one attack. He was pleased – upset? – to notice that there were only a few more actual humans that had been used against him.
"May you all rest in peace," he murmured, Kanshou and Bakuya flickering to life in his hands as he suddenly charged forward.
Realizing her barrier would do nothing against such a demonic power, she used her wind magic to push it away from her body. She closed her eyes as it crashed against the stone next to her, sending rock pieces flying up as it left a large, and fairly deep, crater in its wake with dust billowing around. That was it, she came to understand. She could not underestimate the man any more than she already had. He was a nuisance, and while it would have been far easier to kill him, she had to keep him alive, no matter what. Turning to check on his position in order to plan her next attack, she found herself unable to see much through all of the dust.
Valeria clucked her tongue and sent a gentle breeze flowing through to clear away all of it. When Shirou's auburn hair and golden eyes pierced through the opening she'd made, her chest constricted slightly. Shirou brought down Bakuya heavily, aiming for whatever part of her he could possibly maim, and she forced him back out of her personal space with another gale. Due to her bewilderment, the wind wasn't as strong as it had previously been, and Shirou forced himself to stand strong through the barrage. He sent both Kanshou and Bakuya flying around, both missing her on their initial sweep before they began arcing back.
"That won't work on me, remember?" Valeria growled out, as she created another barrier.
Two more yin and yang swords appeared in his hands and Shirou sent them flying. Almost immediately after doing so, yet another two swords appeared in his hands. He wasn't leaving this to chance. He sent them flying straight at her.
Valeria began to panic as she blocked against the first set, managed to block the second set as well, and barely created enough time for herself to stream another gale of wind at the very last set. Beads of sweat slid down her face as she breathed in and out heavily. The foreigner had nearly taken her down, but she'd managed to fend off each and every attack of his. Now all she had to do was defeat him for certain and finish her business in these horrible tunnels.
One could imagine her surprise then when a fire of pain radiated from her side, leaving her blinking a couple of times before looking down straight into the man's eyes.
Shirou grimaced when he pushed his dagger in even further, watching as the blood flowed freely and soaked her robes. Keeping eye contact with her as he let go of the dagger, he watched her stumble back a couple of steps. Valeria's hands shook as she touched the hilt of the dagger before it faded away into nothingness. The two looked at each other and Shirou bowed his head slightly, almost as if apologizing.
"I can't let you stop me here. I have things to do," he murmured, backing away. "I really don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."
Well, that was an age-old story. By this point, he was more than well aware of how many times he'd given his enemies chances and how many times he'd been more or less punished for the mercy. He also knew that sometimes, all someone needed was a chance before they would think to repent for their actions. Lifting her chin and looking down her nose at Shirou, Valeria's eyes narrowed as she held a hand to her wound. It was already starting to heal, Shirou could see, with a wicked red glow gleaming from it. It hardly took much more time at all before her hand fell back to her side and the wound had completely disappeared.
He could tell she was furious as she continued looking at him. When her hand lifted up and she pointed a finger towards him, Shirou quickly put up his guard. If she sent another blast as strong as the previous ones, he wouldn't be able to dodge at so close a range. He had to make sure protect his chest – he wasn't sure if he'd be able to take yet another attack to the same area without consequences. Shirou saw the prana slowly gather before becoming a large squall of wind, directed at him. It slammed into him with an incredible force and he felt himself pushed back several meters before it began to peter out. Breathing out a soft sigh of relief, he tightened his grip around the twin swords that had once again materialized in his hands. Valeria made to send another blow at him, but he charged forward.
He no longer had any zombies to hide behind. He no longer had the luxury of time to help him aim and shoot any arrows or swords. He no longer had the patience to let the fight continue on. Shirou was going to end this fight here and now, for better or for worse.
Valeria's eyes widened slightly when she saw his charge. As her hands rose high, she began firing rapid shots of wind magic. Shirou grimaced – he was already tired enough as it was, but now he had to do evasion and dodge practice on top of everything else? It was like being back with Rin again.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, he found himself jumping, rolling, dodging, and avoiding every bullet of air aimed at him. The ones that did manage to scrape against him left slight surface wounds and he could tell they were going to hurt something fierce if he managed to survive this. Shirou jumped to his feet again after another quick dodge and felt his chest heaving. His heart was racing and his stamina and adrenaline were definitely starting to fade away. He had enough energy in him for one last prana burst, but if he failed, that was it. He'd be going off of fumes after that.
Prana surged in a blue, blazing trail behind him as Shirou suddenly sped forward, Kanshou and Bakuya clenched in his fists. Valeria seemed taken aback by his sudden increase in speed and pulled back to get out of his range. Kanshou slashed through the air, barely missing his target by a few centimeters. Letting out a roar of frustration, Shirou raised Bakuya high into the air to make the, hopefully, final blow. He didn't register her pointing her left index finger at his chest until a finger-width line of prana left her finger and pierced straight into and through his chest.
The wind magic raced through the right side of his chest as the pupils in his eyes constricted from his surprise and disbelief. Kanshou and Bakuya disappeared in a flurry of prana as Shirou shuffled backwards, not quite sure of what had transpired. His eyes shifted to and fro before finally making eye contact with his enemy. His left hand reached up to feel at the hole through his pectoral and he realized he was suddenly having some trouble breathing.
"What?" he gasped, still somewhat confused.
He had been shot, almost as if by a bullet. He couldn't breathe, couldn't really think. Shirou gritted his teeth as he fell back yet another couple of steps before finally spilling to the floor, blood starting to pool from his wound as he lay on the cold stone ground. His right hand reached upwards as if to reach for Valeria, but he was starting to have trouble focusing on her.
She gave him a small smile, her arms wrapping around her body as if for warmth. The chuckle she let out was soft and low.
"You have magnificent abilities," she began, starting to circle him as he clutched at his chest. "I have never before seen someone create something from absolutely nothing. I dearly wished to kill you, while at the same, wished to take you as a pet to nurture and grow into something quite formidable."
"Why are you doing this?" Shirou managed, his eyes shut tightly. "What is wrong with you people?"
"I'm certain you will know it due time," Valeria answered. "Before this, I had thought my master insane. What is the worth in keeping a simple human alive? But to know you are a mage... Despite how much of an absolute amateur you are, that does change things somewhat, I would suppose. My master has picked well, yet again."
"I don't exist for your enjoyment!" he yelled, feeling himself start to weaken. He wouldn't be awake for much longer. "I'm not here to be your plaything and go along with whatever stupid plans you're making!"
Valeria came around to his side and laid her hand gently atop of his wound. Shirou looked at her through his bleary vision, not quite sure of what she was going to do next. When two of her fingers sank into his wound, he found himself screaming from the pain. He didn't know any healing spells, and he didn't have Avalon to protect him anymore.
Damn it, he should have tried learning one or two spells during his tutelage.
The pain abated somewhat when Valeria pulled out her fingers, and he forced himself to look up at her. Alarm bells rang in his head when he found himself looking directly into her gleaming eyes. Bit by bit, he felt himself lose touch with his surroundings. Something about this all seemed familiar as the darkness started to claim him further.
"I cannot wait to see what the future holds for you, Shirou," he heard her say before he finally fell unconscious.
"– expecting?"
"You're... – me! That's... – mission!"
"I am not... – and don't you dare...!"
The eruption of fiery pain was the first sign that he was awake, which was a surprise in and of itself. Shirou tried to move his hand to touch where it hurt on his chest, but discovered he was completely incapable of moving. He couldn't do much else other than breathe, and it was as if something was binding him down to keep him from moving whatsoever.
Well, he'd lost the fight, but he had a good feeling that it wasn't because he'd messed up, but because his enemy was just way out of his league. At least, this time, that had to be it. He had no excuses for the all the other times he'd lost.
Shirou had seen how quickly her wound had closed up – he'd sensed the malice within that red energy. He was also pretty sure that she hadn't gone all out against him. Her last strike had been an intensely concentrated line of wind magic that had seared straight through his reinforcement, in and out through his chest. She had meant business at that moment.
This meant, though, that perhaps her getting rid of the zombies had just been a feint to make him think he was winning. Rather, it seemed more like she had been testing him, as opposed to actually fighting him to the death, like Dai had been. In addition, she apparently was insistent on keeping him alive, whereas Dai was perfectly fine with leaving him to die in a tunnel where no one was supposed to find him.
"Shall I remind you that all of this mess only occurred because you were too rash in dealing with the knight?"
"Knight? What knight? I think you meant to say "pawn". A pawn. Something meant to be used and tossed away at our earliest convenience."
"No, dear. You are a pawn, and are currently very low on my list of people to concern myself with. You are lucky that my master still has some use for you."
"Hah, how laughable! I am the reason any of you find out anything."
"Yes, this is true. But once again, I will remind you that it is you who set everything into motionyears before things were supposed to take place. The queen is not situated, the knight is in a bad position and will most assuredly be taken before long. Our pawns are scattered all over, and our rook still doesn't know what is going on!"
Ah, he knew why his situation felt so familiar. Shirou had been caught in much of the same trap years before during the war, thanks to his wonderful sister. Well, it was nice to know some things never changed. The last time he'd gotten out of his bonds had not been the most enjoyable experience, but he didn't particularly know of any better methods. He mentally prepared himself for the oncoming pain before attempting to purge his body with prana like he had done before.
Trace: on, he thought to himself as he flipped the switch for his magic circuits. He felt each one come back to life and felt somewhat like he was burning from the inside out. Blood slowly bubbled in his throat and seeped out of the corners of his mouth. Shirou groaned mentally as the pain started to wear off but found that he still couldn't move any of his limbs, nor open his eyes, nor do anything for that matter.
That was strange.
This is weird, was one thought that ran across his mind. I did exactly what I'd done last time. Why isn't this working?
All right. Maybe Valeria hadn't used Mystic Eyes. After all, it wasn't like everyone possessed them, even though it seemed like it. That, of course, meant that the magic wasn't locking him down from the inside out, but perhaps from the outside in. That meant he was pretty SOL, though. He would need someone else to release him from his bonds, and it wasn't as if he could just ask Valeria.
Shirou had thought that he'd fallen unconscious due to being bound, but it may have just been coincidental that the binding occurred at the very same time he'd fainted – no, fallen majestically – from his wound. The binding must have set after he'd blacked out and that was why he couldn't open his eyes or do much aside of breathe.
He could swear that her eyes had been glowing at the time though. Was Valeria capable of voiceless incantations? That was a dumb question, considering how many wind spells she'd thrown at him, and so readily, too. Gah, he'd really thought he could beat her, but if she had simply thrown those super attacks at him from the start without giving him time to do anything, that would've been game over for him.
Damn it, Shirou was tired of losing at this point. Mercy wasn't adding up to anything beneficial in this era and his foreignness was making everything a pain in the ass for him. Even if he had killed Dai, he still would've had to face this woman, and perhaps even more of her wrath if Dai had really been so "special".
I'm really starting to hate everyone around here. If I get out of this alive, I may actually have to break down and kiss Percival after all.
"Stop blaming me for everything, you prissy witch! I'm not the one who stole the seal so soon anyway. Shouldn't you be getting onto him about that?"
"I would, but you are inevitably the one who eventually forced the king to find out."
"No, that wasn't my fault. I just wanted the stupid Scot to pay for his crimes. I didn't care about some castle-wide ban or whatever."
"Are you saying that was Dylan's idea?"
"No, it wasn't him. It was someone else who has some kind of vendetta against the king and Baeddan."
The last name Dai – Shirou could only assume it was Dai and Valeria arguing with one another – said caught Shirou's attention. He hadn't met anyone named Dylan before, which may very well have been a good thing, but Baeddan, he definitely knew.
So, someone had an issue with the head cook. That was hardly surprising at all.
"How many people does Dylan have under his command?" asked Valeria softly, sounding a bit irritated. "I have not been updated on his actions as of late."
Shirou heard something scratch against the stone before Dai answered,
"I'm not really sure." There was another scratch or shuffle. "Are you sure we can talk so freely with that idiot laying down over there?"
Valeria appeared to pause for a moment. "No normal person alive would wake up within three hours of being shot through the chest and nearly dying from blood loss. Unless he's a new breed of human, he'll be out for a few days yet."
"I just don't think –"
"That's right. You don't. You're not paid to think. Rather, you aren't paid anything whatsoever, save for the value of your life. Provided that you keep poking your nose around and finding out details that would otherwise be lost to us, I will not render your life forfeit to you."
"God damn it, you're a real right bitch, all right."
Dylan, Dylan, Dylan… Who was Dylan? It would probably be best for him to memorize and remember that name. Also, who was this person who had an issue with Baeddan? Obviously, those kinds of people were a dime a dozen, but that didn't necessarily mean he could write this person off. He didn't particularly care that someone hated Baeddan, but he and the rest of the servants had gone through a lot of crap because of this guy laying down a castle-wide ban just because of a hatred for only one person.
Tell me who's behind all of this.
"This person who initiated that food fiasco... Is he of a high position?"
"He's pretty up there," Dai answered with a grunt. "The king doesn't have a clue."
"As well he shouldn't," Valeria responded. "Once again, the king would have never known at all if you idiots weren't dumb enough to act so rashly. However, perhaps this is for the best. At least we have Shirou within our clutches now."
That didn't tell me a single useful thing.
Dai scoffed. "What am I supposed to be doing with him anyway? Can I just leave him here to possibly freeze? Or drown? Or be eaten by rodents? Or maybe let maggots have their way with him?"
Shirou heard a resounding smack and the sound of something hitting the ground hard – he assumed it was Dai falling on his ass. At least, he hoped it was Dai receiving some kind of punishment. The fucking asshole.
"You would seek his death after I went through so much trouble to make sure he stayed alive?" Valeria growled. "Had he been any stronger, or had I not been as able as I am, I would have lost my life. I had no intention to show him my true strength – I had to make him think I was running low on prana."
Dai groaned slightly and Shirou heard yet another loud slap. He would have winced if he'd been able to move at all. There was another shuffle of steps.
"It is nothing short of humiliating for me to have to pretend to be a novice. I wanted to rip his head from his neck and grind his bones into a fine powder for a potion. He absolutely, positively irritated me," Valeria continued. "At the same time, however, he impressed me deeply with his instinctual way of thought and particular abilities. Think of the possibilities that may come from a man who can create something from nothing! We must take him for our own, no matter what."
Aw, shit.
"So, for you to dare assume that you would want me to have him killed... I would much rather have you be thrown into a horde of feral rats rampant with disease. Do not make my actions for naught, you filthy mongrel. He will be more useful to us than a million of you."
Leave me alone. Damn it, I hate you all.
"And when he brings down the king, a new age will dawn, for everyone."
Dai snorted. "What makes you think he'll do that?"
Yeah, why would I do that?
"What makes you think he'll have a choice?"
Oh, fuck you.
"So, what do I do with him then?" Dai asked, sounding irritated.
"Put him someplace where he won't be seen by anyone while I consult with our master to see how he should be positioned."
"Is Merlin going to find out about him?"
"I'm certain Merlin is already more than well aware, the old coot. He doesn't allow the king to involve himself in magi affairs, however, so there is no need to worry any."
There was the sound of Dai spitting. "Fine, I'll see that he's put somewhere...safe."
"See that he is."
Shirou heard footsteps softly walk away from where he was until the person walked out of his range of hearing completely. Another set of footsteps walked closer to him before stopping right at his side. After a short moment of utter silence, Shirou smelled something similar to rotting meat right where his nose was. He longed to move his head away from the foul smell, but the binding on him was too strong for him to do anything.
"I can't believe I have to keep this miscreant alive," Dai complained in a mutter.
Oh God, please get your rank breath out of my face. I wish I could punch you.
"I could just kill him now."
I can't breathe, damn you. I hope Valeria castrates you.
"I like living too much for that, though. Well, as long as he doesn't hurt Telyn anymore, I suppose I can deal with him staying alive."
When the foul odor moved away from Shirou, he wished he could jump for joy. Next plan of action, after dealing with King Arthur's enemies, his own enemies, and whatever other nonsense came about: introducing these people of the past to the wonders of a toothbrush. And salt water. And maybe some kind of breath mint.
"Hmm, but, one last blow won't kill him," his enemy said gleefully.
Warning bells went off in Shirou's head when he heard that. Oh for fuck's sake, don't you dare fucking –
He never finished the train of thought as something bludgeoned hard against his head, truly knocking him unconscious.
Shirou threw a piece of straw into the air, watching as it drifted down slowly like a feather before touching down on the filthy ground. His hand grasped around him for more straw before he started throwing that around as well. Eyes glancing up to look at the soldier standing guard at his cell, Shirou, for the umpteenth time, attempted to materialize a sword, or a knife, or just, something. Yet again, however, he simply stared at an empty hand, hardly even fazed anymore that he couldn't do anything at that point.
This jail's no joke, he thought to himself, blowing away the red bangs covering his eyes. Percival wasn't kidding when he talked about how strong it is.
It had been a solid week since the fight against Valeria. When he'd woken up, he'd found himself deep in the pit of the dungeons, in one of the cells deepest inwards. It was probably far cleaner than the cells closer to the surface, and it seemed like no one knew he was even down there. No one, aside of his guard, had even approached the depths of the dark pit he was in, and the only light visible was that of a torch right in front of his prison. Due to this, he had absolutely no way to contact anyone and with his magecraft constantly being nullified, he didn't have much hope of getting out on his own either. Dai, Shirou supposed, had chosen well in placing him there. Whatever plans the sneaky bastard and Valeria had were ones Shirou simply couldn't do anything about in his current situation.
Truth be told, it was rather unlike him to be so...pessimistic. Unfortunately, he was having a really hard time trying to find a silver lining to his predicament. Over the week, he'd scoured every stone block on the wall, trying to find a weak spot that he could exploit. True to the rumors he'd heard about the past though, dungeons were as impenetrable as they seemed. If Shirou had had half the chance, he would've created a jack hammer and gone to town on the offending barrier to get himself out – to hell with the consequences.
Resentment swelled within him as he turned around and kicked at the wall.
"Seriously, what the fuck?" he muttered, sweeping away more straw. "Dragons? Fine, I can't do anything about them, but I didn't come back all this way to get caught in some stupid political battle that has nothing to do with me. I don't even know why I'm here anymore!"
Shirou was well aware of his selfish thoughts. Continuing to kick at the wall with more and more ferocity each time, he thought of how much better he could have handled coming to the past. Instead of living in a village for a few months, he could have sought out Morgana and attempted to do something about her. Of course, fighting with her one-on-one would've resulted in his death immediately, so maybe it was good he hadn't bothered. He could have tried enlisting with the military force instead of being a wuss about everything and hunted down Mordred, but that was another can of worms all on its own. Maybe he could have looked for a group of mages or mercenaries and worked with them to better his skills first and then try to live in Camelot. But no, oh no, what was he instead doing? He was working as a lowly cook, as if it were the most normal thing ever.
The worst part of everything, he supposed, was that he was no closer to the king than he'd ever been. In fact, she seemed to be more and more out of his reach with every passing day. She couldn't possibly understand why he would want to be near her and he doubted that she was of a mind to even care.
"Not that there'd be any reason for her to bother," he grumbled. "She doesn't know who I am, knows nothing of those two weeks I shared with Saber... Nothing. Is there a point to me even being here anymore?"
For a brief moment, the thought of leaving Camelot, her, and everything else behind crossed his mind until heavy guilt crept back up into his subconscious. Shirou couldn't let her suffer if he was in a position to stop it, and besides... His jaw tightening, Shirou's eyes narrowed as he reached over to pick up a small rock and gripped it with as much strength as he could muster.
He had a debt to repay. Not only that, Shirou had a plan that needed foiling.
First, he had to contend with Dai. The man had proven time and time again that he was nothing short of a piece of trash. Even Kotomine had proved to be more humane than the bastard Shirou was now dealing with. In addition, Dai was somehow interconnected with this grand plan to take the king down, without the know-how and general understanding of how to actually do so. That had "dangerous" written all over it. If that idiot stuck his nose in the wrong place, that could set off a series of events that might potentially seriously impair King Arthur's rule. If that happened, then there really wouldn't be a point in Shirou sticking around in the past.
Dai wasn't the only topic of interest, either – there was also the matter of that Dylan person. This "Dylan" was the one who'd stolen the royal seal. Shirou would just have to get it back through whatever means available to him. He wasn't quite certain of how to go about that, but he'd think of something.
Additionally, there was the problem with the person who'd ordered the change of rations for each servant. The person was supposedly someone highly ranked, which probably meant that Shirou wouldn't be able to get at him without assistance. The king had no reason to believe him outright, but if he could somehow score an audience with the queen... After all, he and Zago had managed to prove that there was something amiss about with the food proportions. She might agree to talk to him about it. Shirou scrunched up his nose in though. Eh, the plan needed a bit more ironing before he even attempted doing anything about it.
Next on the list was the issue of Merlin. If that old man had any inkling of what was going on with all the disappearances or with that lady he'd fought, – and lost against – then Shirou had a bone to pick with him. If he was working behind the scenes to make King Arthur's rule any more difficult than it already seemed to be, then something would have to be done about that. That would be a tricky confrontation though, and would have to be done via a higher authority. Right, Shirou wouldn't be able to do anything about that for the moment.
After considering all of those points, the next trouble dealt with that woman, Valeria, and her master, whoever that was. She was also somehow intertwined with Merlin, and it was only obvious that the master, alongside Merlin, had to be a very, very powerful...
A flash of realization swept through Shirou's mind before he slapped a hand against his forehead.
She can't be the reason... Why would she know about me? What does she want with me?
That was a scary thought. No, if that was the case, then there was even more reason for him to remain in Camelot, behind its walls and within its safety net.
Everything and everyone seemed to be his enemy. There were so many people he, someone of so little stature, could touch that the only "in" he had would be with Dai. If he could somehow just prove that there was a backdoor scheme going on in the castle, then... But, he didn't have any proof to show anyone. What was he supposed to do, go up to the king and say, "Oh hey. I know you don't really know or trust me but there's someone close to you who's trying to kill you," or something like that?
First, she was the king, so obviously had a lot of enemies. Plus, without proof, then... A thought struck Shirou with all of the power of a bolt of lightning, sending him reeling a bit.
If the only option he had to use was Dai, then he would have to milk that particular opportunity for all it was worth. There was no love lost between the two of them anyway, and with all the headaches Dai had caused him up to date, not to mention the action of putting him in a jail cell, it was a pretty obvious choice. Shirou just needed a way to convince the fool to give him all of the information Dai was privy to.
Shirou barely had to even question the how. Dai had a very big weak point that Shirou could use against him – it was only a matter of whether Shirou was willing to go that far. One look at his surroundings though and a quick reminiscence of the previous few months and that was all it took for him to make his decision. Yes, he would do it, if only because there was no other way. Besides, he was still pissed over being used to further other people's goals as an innocent party.
But Dai's not so innocent, he thought to himself. He started this entire mess. I won't have any regrets making him eat his words, but I can't go about this half-baked. Even if she doesn't know it, the king's life may well be relying on what I can accomplish here.
He ran his hands through his hair over and over, feeling the stress starting to hit him hard.
Argh, I have so much to do, but I have to get out of here to do it. I can't leave though. Ugh, and I've got to solve all of these issues before they make things even more difficult. But to do that, I need to get out of this cell. I need to find a way out of this situation. And to do all of that, I need Fate to stop working against me!
His anger finally bubbling over, Shirou stood up in one swift motion and launched the rock through the cell bars where it crashed into the opposing wall. The sudden sound was enough to make his jailor flinch away slightly and turn back to look at him. The redhead simply scowled in his direction before sitting back down and turning away.
The jailor cocked his head questioningly at his prisoner before walking over to pick up the rock. His brown eyes shifted up to look at the wall, a frown working its way across his face as he saw the mark from where the rock had hit. Biting his bottom lip, he exhaled softly before turning back and walking up to the cell. He tossed the rock back in, causing the other man to look at him quickly, bewildered.
"I believe you lost this," said the jailor in an attempt to joke.
Shirou just glared and turned away. The jailor sighed slightly before glancing down at the food tray that had been prepared for his charge. It, like several other meals over the past few days, hadn't been touched. In fact, the prisoner hadn't even bothered approaching it, although the jailor knew he was hungry, despite that.
"Sir, I realize the conditions are less than hospitable, but if I may, you really should eat."
Shirou grunted. "No thanks."
"But if you would just –"
"No."
"I'm sure the meal is –"
"No."
The jailor looked back down at the tray. "Hm, but it would be such a waste for no one to partake this food. I dread to think of how offended the cooking staff must be to know you do not enjoy their prepared meals."
Shirou had a pretty good idea that not a single person in the kitchen probably cared about the food a prisoner had to eat. Rather, he doubted the food was even remotely fresh. It was probably the remains of more remains from the servants' meals, which meant that it was way beyond its expiration date. Plus, Shirou was fairly certain that each meal was poisoned with something. When he'd muddled his way through his first few meals, he'd felt like crap and had been unable to function correctly. He couldn't open his circuits or even manage to manipulate any of his prana. It also took extreme effort for him to move any – he'd felt like the world around him was full of molasses that he was stuck wading through. In other words, he'd been rendered completely helpless.
No, he wasn't touching that food with a ten-foot pole.
His jailor bent down to pull the tray back into the corridor and lifted a spoon to taste the soup. A smile was on his face as he turned to Shirou.
"See here! They have even prepared a layer of fresh garnish for your soup! How kind the cooking staff is!"
Shirou rolled his eyes. "That would be mold."
"Pardon?" the man asked before inspecting the green stuff more closely.
The spoon fell back into the soup after only a few seconds had passed. Shirou felt like smirking when he saw the jailor begin to understand why Shirou wouldn't go near the "food", but lost his smugness when his jailor simply tightened his jaw, stood up, and turned away. Then, without any sort of warning, the man picked up the tray and walked down the corridor away from Shirou's cell.
The Japanese man's eyebrows raised slightly as he watched the other man walk away before they furrowed again as he thought about the past week.
His jailor, decidedly, was one-of-a-kind, most certainly. This hadn't been the first time the man had attempted to start a conversation with Shirou, and it was almost as if he was trying to be friendly. The very idea struck Shirou as a bit wrong and made him incredibly wary.
His general impression of a sixth-century jailor was someone who was a bit rough around the edges, never spoke, never made any move to interact with a prisoner, and people who essentially had no desire to be in their position. Other images included roughshod people who preferred to bully their charges at whatever chance they had and to basically make life a living hell for everyone involved.
Shirou's jailor, however, was neither of these examples. Rather, he seemed obsessed with trying to find out things about Shirou, although the redhead was always quick to shut the former down with a few acidic words. The jailor was also a bit clumsy and seemed incapable of reading the mood. Had Shirou ever met the man outside of his current unfortunate circumstances, he never would have bothered starting a conversation at all, if possible.
Sighing, he turned to peer into the darkness, his shoulders slumping as he tried thinking of other ways of getting out. He wasn't skinny enough to fit through the spaces in between the bars, and even when he stretched his arm out of the cage to try to get at the lock, he could never reach it. His jailor didn't carry around any keys either, so he couldn't memorize their design anyway.
Shirou stood up and shuffled back over to the front of the cell again. Sticking his arm out as far as he could until his shoulder brushed against the iron bars, he once again attempted to trace something that might help him. He only encountered the same issue as before though, despite a part of him being outside of the prison. As he sat back on his haunches, Shirou shook his head.
There was some kind of magical veil lining the perimeter of his cell that seemed to entrap any and all prana. It was like a thin sheet of plastic that encapsulated whatever extremity that tried to push through it. Shirou had also attempted to create a weapon, and even something as small as a nail by focusing outside of the barrier, but only met with the same fruitless result. Unless someone noticed he was gone, – how could anyone not notice that a foreign-looking redhead had suddenly disappeared? – it seemed like he was stuck there for the long haul, or until Dai decided to bail him out.
Shirou plopped back on his butt the moment he realized he was completely powerless within that environment. The walls to both his right, left, and back were made up of stone blocks and everything in front of him were iron bars reinforced with some kind of magic that he'd never seen. His magecraft was canceled out at every turn and he had no materials otherwise to use to better his situation. Not only that, but his food and water were poisoned – well, the water was just unclean, but it may as well have been poisoned for how much it made him want to release his bowels. No one appeared to know that he was gone, or even if they did, that he was down in the dredges of the castle.
Feeling a wave of helplessness sweep over him, Shirou crawled across the cell to slump down in a corner and drew his knees in close to his chest. There he stayed, unmoving, for the next hour or so, just throwing himself his own personal little pity party. One thought that crossed his mind was that both Saber and Rin would've killed him. He might've been a little okay with that, too.
It was the sound of soft clanking that snapped him out of his dreariness and instead instantly rang a couple of warning bells for him. When his jailor appeared again, jaw set and eyes determined, Shirou curled his hands into fists. Had he judged wrongly initially? Was this jailor going to try to exert his power over Shirou and try to make him cry out for mercy?
Not if I have anything to say about it, he thought, immediately jumping to his feet.
He felt himself lurch forward a bit as his strength failed him from not eating for a number of days, but forced himself to stand strong when the feeling passed. Forcing himself to make eye contact with his jailor, he gritted his teeth. Shirou was ready to take on anything – if he could somehow overpower his opponent, then that would be his ticket out of that prison. He'd take whatever he could get.
Shirou watched carefully as the man bent down and slid something through the thin space allotted for meal trays. Shirou looked at his jailor warily before looking down at the thing sitting at his feet. It was wrapped with a heavy cloth – there was no telling what it was without taking the covering off. Was it a bomb, or maybe a –
Whoa, now. Had he really just considered that someone in the century had somehow created a bomb? That was a bit too paranoid, even for him.
The jailor offered him no words of support or reproach, so Shirou decided to just take a look for himself. There was little else he could do, after all, aside of ignoring it. The jailor's gaze was so full of intent, though, that Shirou eventually just ruled that out.
Reaching down, he tentatively pulled off the cloth and took a look at the contents. Wrapped inside was a simple piece of bread and a metal cup of soup alongside a couple of wilted pieces of lettuce. Shirou's gaze immediately snapped up to stare at his guard.
"Just what are you playing at?" he demanded, his voice raising as he glared fiercely. He'd almost reverted back to speaking Japanese for a moment before controlling himself and speaking in clear Brythonic.
The guard seemed slightly dismayed, though he recovered quickly. Gesturing towards the food, he said,
"No one should have to make a choice between starvation and poison."
"You expect me to believe you're giving me this out of the goodness of your heart?"
Shirou honestly did want to believe as much, but previous experience in this time period had shown him over and over again that naively trusting people around here was practically guaranteed to land him into some kind of trouble. He was finally beginning to understand that a nice dose of wariness coupled with some distrust might actually be more beneficial to him overall.
"I do not expect you to believe anything you are not apt to," the jailor answered. "I am simply giving you a chance to continue surviving. I want to help you."
"You want to help me? Then let me out of this cell!" Shirou pleaded, walking up to the cell bars.
The man flinched back somewhat. "Would that I could."
Shirou opened his mouth to argue but the guard raised his hands in a placating manner.
"By no means must you partake in the meal I have given you, but it is there for you, regardless. With that, I bid you a good night."
"Wait!" Shirou exclaimed, reaching an arm out as the guard walked away quickly. "Why are you...?"
He slid down against the bars, eyes downcast as he sighed out. Wiping his face with one hand, he took one glance at the tray of food. His stomach grumbled. He was obviously very hungry, but was worried that the jailor might be participating in yet another conspiracy, or worse yet, what if he was working for Dai? It wouldn't be in Shirou's best interests to fall for that kind of ploy. Then again, there was also a slight chance that the guard had truly meant well.
Shirou's hand neared the food with a smidgen of hesitation. As soon as he was almost touching the bread, a flash of his past fight out in the snow caused him to suddenly rear back. He eyed the food, left wanting, but grudgingly forced his gaze away. This time, the poison might just affect more than simply his circuits. He wasn't sure if he wanted to take that chance. His stomach grumbled again when he stood up and walked over to sit in a corner.
Shirou looked back at the food again as he tried to get comfortable before he finally closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.
The next day when he awoke, he saw the guard come back for duty, take a look at the food still sitting there, shake his head, and merely replace it with yet another meal while taking the first away. The same thing happened that evening, with Shirou maintaining a fixed gaze on the man's every moment. It happened yet again the next day, and the next evening after that. Shirou hadn't touched a single morsel brought to him – whether that was out of obstinance or fear, he wasn't sure. Either which way, he was starting to feel the effects of not eating for so long. He was becoming woozy, unable to think clearly, and continuously grew increasingly irritable with every passing hour. If things kept up like this, he wouldn't have to worry about any kind of future because he wouldn't be able to manage his way out of his prison.
When the guard again replaced the food again on the third day, Shirou realized he needed to make a choice: possible poisoning or possible starvation? He was already dehydrated enough as it was – he hadn't gone to the bathroom for over a day. He wasn't particularly happy that he had to rely on such contingencies. Shirou ran a hand over his face – his "choice" wasn't much of a choice at all. He had to eat if he planned to survive, and he had to survive if he wanted to save the king.
No, there had never really been a choice from the start for him, had there?
The second the guard left for a bathroom break some few hours later was the moment Shirou set into action. He crawled over – he didn't have enough energy to walk by that point – to the wrapped food sitting there for him. Glancing around, he licked his dry lips as he debated once again whether to eat the food or not. His eyes closed briefly before he shook his head and sighed. There was no point in deliberating further.
Shirou untied the cloth and looked inside to yet again find a piece of bread, a cup of soup, some wilted cabbage, and a cup of...water. At least, he thought it was water. It was hard to tell sometimes.
As soon as he picked up the piece of bread and bit into it, he suddenly felt extremely ravenous and ended up scarfing down the entire thing. The soup disappeared next, and the cabbage along with it. When he tossed back the water, he had to slam a fist against his chest to keep from choking on all of it. Shirou burped, set the waterless cup down and sat back to wait. With the previously poisoned meals, he'd felt almost lethargic within a few minutes of eating. If this was the same kind of poison, or worse, the side effects were bound to show up sooner or later. He leaned back and lay flat against the dirty ground, his stomach full for the first time in a week. Shirou looked up at the stones, eyelids growing heavy as he continued staring.
The sound of clanking woke him back up some time later, though he hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep at all in the first place. His golden-brown eyes met up with the jailor's brown ones, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position with some effort. The jailor was smiling. Shirou wasn't sure what to make of that.
"You ate everything this time."
Shirou grunted, turning his gaze away. Gruffly, he muttered, "Yeah. Thanks."
"I was concerned about you," his guard continued. "It is unhealthy to go without sustenance for prolonged periods of time."
Shirou didn't say anything in return. What could he have said, besides the fact that he was worried he would get wrapped up in one more conspiracy that shouldn't have had anything to do with him? No, staying quiet was the better decision.
The guard shifted from one foot to another before he finally settled. He seemed conflicted but resolute.
"Was the meal to your liking?" he eventually asked.
Raising an eyebrow, Shirou was unsure of how to react.
"It was fine. Didn't seem poisoned at least." A pause. "No offense, but you don't seem like much of a jailor to me."
There was little mirth in the jailor's smile. "It was through extenuating circumstances that I received this post. It was most certainly not by choice."
"Extenuating circumstances?" inquired Shirou, curiosity piquing and overriding his wariness. "Like what?"
"Conversely," argued the guard, "what brought you to rot away in this cell, so far away from any other prisoner? You do not seem the type."
Shirou scowled. "I'm not. I got stuck in the middle of something that should've never involved me in the first place."
The guard nodded solemnly. "An unfortunate situation, to be sure. I... Admittedly, I may have dug my own grave, and so I am not quite certain whether I have the right to complain or not."
"It seems like we've both gotten ourselves into some hot water," muttered Shirou. "Anyway, thanks for the food."
He stood up and began walking back to his corner. His guard looked down for a short while before looking back up.
"I have other duties to attend to. If you so wish it, I will supply you with more provisions later this evening."
Shirou looked back, a frown on his face. "Please. And thanks."
There was another awkward pause before the guard once again spoke:
"Um, my name is Meilyr, if it so pleases you."
"...I'm Shirou," Shirou replied, manners kicking in before he could stop himself.
"Well then, I will be on my way," Meilyr said with a happy smile. "May we nurture a wonderful relationship."
Shirou didn't say anything back, but just watched as the Meilyr bowed his head politely and then walked away, his armor continuing to clank even in the far distance. He rubbed his bare arms, before eventually moving over to rub over the wound in his chest. His eyes then switched back to look at where his jailor normally put the food and then he finally looked down at the place where he normally slept.
"Yeah. Here's hoping."
Well, how'd you like it? We tried our best with this chapter. It was a little on the short side, but I really didn't want to force it too much. See you with the next installment!