Rin drummed her fingers nervously on the armrest of the Bentley, every so often glancing over at the massive figure folded into the seat next to her. Berserker was looking out the window at the passing traffic, his single eye scanning the crowds and cars with the same quizzical intensity that had lived on his features since last night. His expression was difficult to read under the disfiguring masses of scar tissue but Rin thought she was beginning to get a feel for her servant. Above all else he was haunted by his amnesia, unsure of who or even what he was.
The previous night had been a hectic affair. Shane had furnished Berserker with a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, luckily both men were close enough in size that they didn't have to make an excursion to find clothes for Berserker, and then headed out to take care of the smoldering bits of the tower that were scattered over the lawn. Melva had wrung her hands and fussed over Rin, tending to her various cuts and bruises with iodine and bandages. Ilya had simply sat at the kitchen table, her face grave.
Rin had considered making up some story to cover the explosion and appearance of the heavily scarred spirit warrior in borrowed pajamas that was leaning up against the door frame, but in the end she settled on the truth. Ilya was a powerful mage in her own right, she was very clever, and more importantly she was Rin's friend. They had dismissed the servants, both magical and mundane, and withdrawn to Ilya's room where Rin had explained why she was in Valencia and what she hoped to accomplish.
Ilya had remained silent and Rin grew more and more nervous as she spoke. She half expected Ilya to tell her to ask her to leave or babble recriminations. But her fears were un founded. When she had finished with her tale Ilya leaned forwards and clasped her hands fervently.
"You're my sister." She had said simply. "I'll do whatever I can to help you win this thing."
The two young mages had hugged and laughed, once again talking far into the night. But this time they were discussing tactics, making plans, and trying to puzzle out a way to win the war even with Berserker's severe limitations. It was nearly morning when Rin had posed a question that neither girl had considered.
"What are we going to tell your staff?" She asked.
Ilya paused, and then giggled. "We could tell them that you're a diplomat. Or a princess. And that the explosion was an assassination attempt and Berserker is your body guard."
Rin had rolled her eyes.
In the end they wound up hastily spitting out something about a bubble of swamp gas reflected through the light from Venus. Melva and Estavio seemed to accept the answer, or at least to accept that it was the best answer they were likely to get and that they had better mind their own business. They had served the Von Einsbern family for long enough to know not to meddle in the affairs of mages. Shane hadn't challenged the story but Rin could see the wheels turning in his head. He had no way of knowing that the explosion had been magical in nature but you didn't have to be a genius to know that something fishy was going at the Von Einsbern estate.
Now she watched the back of his head as he drove, occasionally catching his eyes regarding her quizzically in the rear view mirror. He knew where they were going but not why. All he knew was that he was taking Rin and Berserker to a church in Old Valencia for some unspecified errand. Wordlessly he pulled to a stop in front of the ancient structure and then got out to open the door for Rin.
"Stay here." She said to Berserker, who nodded.
The churchyard was surrounded by a chest high wall of ancient brick and crumbling mortar. The iron gate was held open by a weather beaten apple box propped at one of the corners, keeping the door held wide to welcome visitors. Rows of tombstones stood beside the short path that lead up to the door, their faces eroded and cracked by the ravages of time. The church itself was small and eclectic with a single spire and simple stained glass windows of no particular pattern. The result was cozy and inviting rather than somber. It would be a picturesque tourist attraction if it were not tucked so neatly out of the way.
Rin took a deep breath and headed up the path but paused half way there as a figure emerged from the front door. He was a middle aged man, tall and broad shouldered. His face was smooth with wings of white stroked backwards from his temples giving him a distinguished but not an aged appearance. He wore a double breasted business suit and did not give Rin a second glance as he passed her and turned left from the gate. Something about him gave her pause. Perhaps it was the feral cut of his jaw, or perhaps the predatory grace of his long strides, but he evoked the restrained danger of a caged predator, like a wolf prowling through a nursery. Rin suppressed a shudder and put the stranger out of her mind, forcing courage into her steps as she entered the church.
The interior was darker than she expected, illuminated by candles rather than electric lights. The stained glass cast deep purple and orange patches of sunlight over the worn wooden pews. The effect was close, intimate.
From behind the lectern a white bearded clergyman looked up from a tome he was studying. His eyes crinkled in a smile like little black buttons and he shuffled out from around the pulpit, his hand extended.
"Welcome, my child." He said in a warm voice.
"All are welcome who seek the touch of heaven. Yes, those who seek the heaven's feel."
Rin picked up on his veiled query immediately.
"Yes." She said, bowing politely. "I am here as a magus of the Grail War."
To her surprise a look of great sadness seemed to settle over the aged priest's face. He beckoned for her to follow, shuffling towards the lectern.
"As you are no doubt aware we, the agents of the Church, are charged with overseeing the war. We will mediate the conflict and try to keep human casualties to a minimum. Should your servant be defeated or if you simply wish to quit you can find sanctuary here, or in any church throughout the city. Combat on church grounds is strictly prohibited. Our involvement will be enforced by our Burial Agents. I would advise you not to test them. The are…highly competent."
When they reached the lectern the priest pulled open the thick covers of the tome that he had been perusing, turning the yellowed pages until he arrived at a blank one about the midpoint of the book. Over the sound of crinkling parchment Rin thought she heard the soft rustle of cloth and she glanced towards the shadowy choir. She could not be sure through the darkness, but she thought she could make out a figure standing there. She surreptitiously kept watch out of the corner of here eye and was rewarded by a slight shifting movement. There was definitely someone watching the proceedings from hiding. Curious.
"The registration is simple." The priest said, jerking Rin's attention back to the open book in front of her. "Write your name and the class of your servant, and seal it with a drop of blood."
Rin confidently reached for an ornate fountain pen resting in an inkwell when the priest put a kindly hand over hers, stopping her. She glanced at him in surprise and he looked up at her with sad, crinkled eyes.
"Can I convince you not to do this, my child?" He asked, his tone full of paternal concern. "Such bloodshed, such conflict. Wishes and magic are not the route to happiness, but humility and service to God."
Rin gently but firmly pulled her hand away.
"Thank you, Father, but I will not be dissuaded." She said.
With short, businesslike strokes she wrote on the page in her imperious script Tohsaka Rin, and beneath that Berserker. She pierced her thumb with the sharp nib of the pen and then waited for a moment, an inky drop of blood welling up on her fingertip. She let the drop fall with an air of finality, her blood splashing slightly and forming a dark spot on the page, black in the dim light of the chapel.
"Very well then." The priest said. "Return here if you seek sanctuary. Go with God."
The simple ritual or signing a book and leaving a drop of blood had a finality to it that even summoning a servant had not. For the first time the full import of what she was about to attempt struck Rin. For a moment her confidence faltered. But then she stepped outside. There in the Bentley were Shane and Berserker. With an iron grip on her will she steeled herself. She was not going to quit. She was not going to surrender. She was going to play the hand she was dealt. And she would win.
She held her head high she marched to the car.
…
The elderly priest watched Rin as she marched away, resignation evident on his face. Once the young magus was out of sight the figure lurking in the shadows stepped forwards, stalking towards the book on the lectern. Involuntarily the aged priest cringed backwards, making way for the shadowy interloper.
"I don't know what you hope to accomplish." He said, his words laden with misgiving.
The shadowy figure said nothing, flipping through the book until it found Rin's page. With a careful hand it pulled the page out of the binding of the book and with a pair of medical shears clipped out the square that held her drop of blood. The rest of the page was unceremoniously crumpled and tossed away. The drop of blood was carefully transferred into a specimen bag and then tucked into the shadowy figure's clothing.
"You have your orders." It hissed to the priest. "Tell the Wolf to stand by. We'll need to move quickly once we've located the weapon."
With a rustle of robes it turned on its heel and stalked back into the shadows.