Day 2: 6:30 PM: Airspace over Astrakhan, Russia en route to Burma

Illya let out a sigh and shifted her position in her chair. After a couple minutes, she readjusted again. She did it again after a couple more minutes. Finally she stood and kicked her chair. She couldn't get comfortable and it was irritating her greatly. They were four hours into their trip and still had almost six left before they touched down. She glanced at her partner. Eralyn was quietly sitting on the other side of the compartment, keeping to herself. Illya scowled. Maybe that's why she couldn't get comfortable. It was much too quiet for the number of people present. Deciding to rectify this, she marched over to the chair in front of Eralyn and plopped down. Eralyn jumped slightly, obviously lost in thought and not expecting someone to make a racket so close to her. She blinked at Illya and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah!" Illya started, "It's too quiet. Let's talk!"

"Oh," it was obvious talking was not on Eralyn's list of things to do.

Illya scowled determined to have the silence broken and said, "So what do you want me to call you? Eralyn? Lynn? What?"

"Um…" Eralyn hesitated a moment before saying, "Ella's fine."

"Ella it is then! You can call me Illya. That's what my friends call me."

Eralyn raised an eyebrow, "We're friends?"

"I plan to be by the time I'm done talking with you!" Illya declared, making it very apparent that Eralyn was not getting out of this. Eralyn exhaled and nodded. Taking this as her queue to continue, Illya asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Eralyn gave an indifferent shrug. Accepting the gesture, Illya said, "Why are you here?"

"Excuse me?"

Illya sat back in her chair and motioned to the air around her, "Why are you here? Preparing to fight in something I think you know very little about. I don't believe I'd be far off in assuming that you're not a mage?"

The other girl shook her head, "Before yesterday I had no idea magic existed."

"So why are you risking your neck now?"

Eralyn gave a small laugh, somewhat amused, and answered, "Well when an archangel descends from the sky and says you've been chosen to fight some sort of grand evil, you can't exactly say no."

This drew a chuckle from Illya, "Fair enough. But do you even know what's going on? That Waver guy at the Clocktower didn't exactly lay things out for you I don't think."

"Michael caught me up on the trip to London. I know the basics about magic and Servants and the Holy Grail. He was pretty thorough," Eralyn explained.

"Well that's good. Now I don't have to go through the trouble of doing it."

There was a pause before Eralyn asked, "So I take it you are a mage?"

"Yeps! And a really good one!" Illya stated proudly.

"I see…"

Illya face contorted into one of scrutinization. She stared at Eralyn long enough to make the teenager uncomfortable. Finally Eralyn half snapped, "What is it?"

"So you're a master? But you don't use magic."

"Is that a problem?"

"A little. Servants draw power from their master's mana. If you don't have any mana or can't use the mana you have, your Servant is at a huge disadvantage in a fight," Illya explained.

Eralyn frowned, "So that's bad for Michael, right?"

"Probably. I mean Servants can do just fine without drawing too much mana from their Masters depending on what their stats are, but even if they can handle themselves, it's not exactly ideal to not have any sort of reserve just in case."

"What can I do to fix that?"

"Well," Illya began, "I'd have to get an idea of what your magic circuits are like first."

"Magic circuits?"

Illya nodded, "Mhmm. They're….think of them like veins in your body specifically for the circulation of magical energy."

"And all mages have them? Including you?" questioned Eralyn.

As Illya gave another nod, she continued, "That's right. And I actually have way more magic circuits than a normal mage. My grandfather made sure I was implanted with extra. While most mages only have a couple dozen natural circuits, over 75% of my body is fitted with them."

Illya's prideful tone was back and this time it was supplemented by a large grin. Eralyn took note that Illya certainly seemed to lack modesty. Despite the possible personality flaw, she couldn't hold back a small smile at her partner's confident demeanor. Still smiling slightly she asked, "So how exactly would you go about looking at my magic circuits?"

Illya stood up and moved to where she was standing just in front of Eralyn. She held out her hands and a number of wire thin strands of glowing string formed from her fingers.

"With these," the young mage stated, "These will attach to your face and relay to me feedback on your magical circuits. Won't hurt a bit."

Eralyn instinctively leaned back, unsure, but curiosity got the better of her and she slowly nodded. Illya smiled sweetly as she flicked her fingers. The strands touched her cheeks and her forehead and Eralyn suddenly felt what she assumed was some sort of electric shock.

"Ow!"

Illya gave a giggle as she said, "I might have lied a little about that last part."

As the pain subsided, Eralyn glowered, unamused, at the beaming Illya. Then Illya closed her eyes and seemed to focus. It was mere seconds before Illya very suddenly flew backwards as if thrown by some invisible person. She hit the wall of the plane hard and slumped into the chair, dazed. Eralyn immediately was on her feet and over by Illya, "Illya!"

The commotion had obviously drawn the attention of the pilot who came over the intercom, "Is everything alright back there?"

Eralyn began to call out for help, but Illya's voice shouted back first, "Yes! We're fine!"

That seemed to be enough for the pilot as he didn't comment further. Eralyn looked at Illya concerned, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Illya waved her off and breathed, "I'm fine. Just...got the air knocked out of me."

She looked up at Eralyn who saw a mixture of shock and awe on the other girls face. Illya cocked her head at Eralyn and breathed, "How do you not know?"

"Know what?" Eralyn asked, the concern in her voice shifting toward herself more so than toward Illya's well being.

"Magic," Illya elaborated, "Your magical circuits...I've never seen anything like them. They're so potent that even without proper training you should have managed something. I mean most of them are dormant, sure, but the ones that are active are incredible. If all of them were turned on, you'd dwarf even me in magical power and that shouldn't be possible naturally."

Eralyn frowned, "What does that mean?"

Illya pursed her lips, "I'm not sure. There shouldn't be anyone born with that extensive of a magic circuit network. Well aside from me that is. The response I got from your magic circuits was so powerful even the minute fraction active knocked me back. It felt like I got hit by a Servant. And trust me, I know how that feels."

Eralyn was growing more concerned by the minute, unsure what to make of this development. Illya seemed to notice Eralyn's slight distress and followed up quickly with, "But at the moment, it doesn't matter."

Eralyn looked up, the sentence distracting her, "What?"

"We can't do anything with them right now so there's no point in really worrying about them. Especially not when we could potentially find ourselves fighting for our lives in just a few short hours!"

Eralyn blinked at Illya, "Was that last part supposed to comforting?"

"Not really," Illya laughed, "But, you don't need to worry. My Berserker is more than powerful enough to make up for any slack your Lancer brings."

Eralyn's found that her concern with the revelation was diminishing and she managed a scowl, "Are you implying Michael and I are going to be in the way?"

"Maybe a little," Illya responded playfully.

"Let's talk about something else," Eralyn suggested while giving Illya another unamused look.

Illya giggled as she nodded and asked, "So, if you don't mind my asking, why are your clothes so ratty?"

Eralyn found herself fumbling to form an answer; the major shift in conversation topic as well as Illya's bluntness had caught her off guard. Recovering quickly, however, she replied, "Well it's kind of the only thing I have to wear."

"That's the only outfit you own?" Illya was confused; it was difficult for her to imagine someone with just one pair of clothing.

"Well it's kind of hard to get new clothes when you're homeless," Eralyn chuckled dryly.

It was Illya's turn to be caught off guard, "You're homeless?"

"Have been for almost four years," Eralyn nodded.

"What about your mom and dad? Are they homeless too?"

Eralyn shook her head as it drooped a little and said, somberly, "No. They died in a car accident when I was ten."

"I'm sorry," Illya murmured.

Eralyn picked her head up and said with a sad smile, "It's alright. I came to terms with it a good while back."

The teenager took in a deep breath to clear her head and exhaled sharply before asking, "What about you? Are your parents fine with their kid running around fighting in secret wars and against evil forces?"

"My parents are dead too," Illya said rather plainly.

"Oh…" Eralyn hadn't expect such a blunt answer, "How did they…I'm sorry. Nevermind. It's a bad question to ask."

Illya shook her head, "No, it's fine. My mother died fighting in the Fourth Holy Grail War."

"What about your dad?"

"He fought in the war too, but he lived. He didn't come back though," Illya said sourly, "I guess he was too ashamed at having gotten my mother killed and failing to win the war that he couldn't come back to me."

"He abandoned you?" Eralyn couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," Illya half chuckled, "But he apparently got over his failure because he adopted a young boy and raised him as his son. He still never came back for me though."

"I'm sorry," Eralyn started, "That's a terrible thing to happen to anyone. You said he died though."

"Some illness got him before I made it to Fuyuki to find him. It was a little disappointing because I would have preferred to have done it myself."

The bitterness in Illya's tone showed that it was a very sore subject for her. Before Earlyn could try and change the topic, however, Illya continued on, "But there was a silver lining. I met the boy he adopted, my brother, and unlike my father he's kind and caring and fun. You actually met him."

Eralyn cocked her head, not remembering meeting anyone she would have assumed was her brother, "I did?"

"Mhmm. Shirou! He's the master of Saber."

That was definitely surprising, "Really? He's your brother?"

"And he's been nothing but kind to me despite me trying to kill him the first time we met…"

Her sentence trailed off and she gave a weak chuckle. Eralyn let out a sigh; Illya was definitely something else. Without warning, Illya clapped her hands together and announced, "But talk about family aside, we need to focus on the important things!"

"Like what?" Eralyn questioned, unsure if she was going to like the answer or not.

"Like getting you some new clothes!"

Illya got up and rushed over to the door close by in the back and opened it. Eralyn hadn't bothered to explore the jet when she boarded, so she was shocked to see a walk in closet. She stood up and slowly moved forward looking inside at the large array of different clothes. She looked at the other girl and said, "Illya, this is incredible! Why do you have so much clothing on a jet?"

"Why not?" Illya grinned. Taking Eralyn by the arm, she dragged her into the room and said, "Ella, we're going to have so much fun!"

Day 3: 11:42 AM: 20 miles outside of Myitkyina, Burma

The cart shook hard and Eralyn almost lost her balance. She looked at Illya who seemed equally dissatisfied with their means of transportation. One of the wheels hit a pothole on the dirt and rock road and Eralyn felt herself rise into the air. She landed hard on her butt and growled. Rubbing the small of her back, she asked, "Illya is this really the only way to get where we're going?"

Illya nodded, grimacing, "Unfortunately. There aren't any roads meant for cars near where we need to be."

The two girls had touched down in Myitkyina at around four thirty in the morning. Just prior to landing Illya had revealed that Waver had given her the coordinates to the grail piece they were tasked with retrieving. They put it's location almost twenty five miles outside of Myitkyina and far up the side of a mountain. After taking a couple hours to rest up, the two had had their pilot (who was fluent in the native language) ask around about what was up there. It turned out the coordinates lead to some sort of ancient monastery presently being occupied by an order of solitary monks. There was a short access road reachable via car, but beyond that required alternative means of transportation. As such, Illya had managed to hire out a native that spoke some english to drive them the rest of the way. Much to the chagrin of the girls, the trip on the horse drawn carriage had taken nearly two and a half hours.

Eralyn groaned and righted herself. She straightened out her outfit which proved to be a little trying as she wasn't used to the clothes. Illya had found a long sleeve, black shirt that Eralyn liked, but it was just a hair too small because of the slight height difference between the two girls. The navy blue jeans Illya had recommended, on the other hand, fortunately fit perfectly. A nice looking burgandy jacket protected her from the chilly temperature. Just as she finished getting herself comfortable again, the cart hit another hole. This time Eralyn fell into the bed of the carriage. She quickly sat up and irritatedly removed strands of straw from her hair. Illya giggled slightly, but stopped when Eralyn shot her a glare. Eralyn turned to the driver and asked, "How much longer till we get there?"

The older man turned and said in broken english, "Almost there. Right up there."

He pointed in front of him and both of the girls looked where his finger indicated. On both sides of the cart was dense forest; the forest stretched far up the mountain side and was visible in the distance from the city. Coming up the the access road and about an hour down it, the scenery had been pretty open with large fields pouring into the distance littered with small creeks and rivers. Halfway into their trip to the monastery, however, the surroundings had changed into the thick foliage they'd viewed from the city. A couple hundred feet through the trees in front of them was a stone archway that looked incredibly old and worn. As they approached it, he said, "I take you as far as the arch. Then you are on your own."

Illya gave a frown, "I thought you were going to take us all the way to the monastery."

The man shook his head, "No. Once I would have. Now, the pathway is cursed. People who go up do not come down."

Illya rolled her eyes, but said nothing more. It took just a few minutes to reach the arch and Illya and Eralyn both gratefully dismounted. The minute they were off, the man steered his horses around and began trotting down the path. He waved and yelled, "Good luck!"

Illya turned to Eralyn and said, "You ready?"

Eralyn looked through the archway and saw a very steep, very uneven stairway carved into the ground. She groaned and murmured, "I hate stairs…."

"Oh?" Illya said, "But you said you were homeless. Walking should come natural to you!"

Eralyn shot Illya an unamused look and said, "Let's just go."

Illya giggled and began skipping up the stairs.

The stairs wound up the mountain for ages. They'd been walking for nearly an hour straight up when Eralyn suddenly plopped down and said, breathing heavily, "I can't walk anymore. We need to rest."

As soon as she said it, the air next to her wavered and a voice asked, "Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?"

Eralyn jumped out of her skin. She slid to the other side of the stairs and shouted, "Michael! Don't do that!"

Illya saw the Servant give Eralyn a grin as he said, "Apologies. Just figured I'd offer a helping hand."

Eralyn exhaled and said, "I don't mind that, just don't randomly appear. I'm still getting used to this."

"Why do you call him 'Michael'?" Illya suddenly asked.

Eralyn turned to him, raising an eyebrow, and inquired, "What else would I call him? Lancer? Why call him a name that's not his own?"

Illya thought a moment before replying, "Well it's to keep his identity safe. If an enemy knows his identity, they can make better attempts at coming up with strategies to beat him."

"Says the girl who blatantly revealed her Servant's identity," Michael chuckled.

Illya scowled, "My situation was different. Berserker is more than capable of overcoming anything thrown at him. Knowing his identity won't save you."

"How well did that turn out for you last time?"

Illya let out a growl this time; Michael has obviously struck a nerve. Illya began to give a retort, but Eralyn cut her off to address her Servant, "Michael stop. You're being rude."

Michael let out a chuckle, "Again, my apologies. Couldn't resist the chance to poke some fun."

Illya seemed less than satisfied, but didn't push the issue. She did, however, ask, "So how do you know all of that? Servants might get general knowledge of a previous Grail War, but that kind of knowledge require specifics."

"I have my ways," Michael grinned.

Before Illya could comment further, Michael continued, "But I suppose I should inform you of my real reason for materializing. We have company."

Eralyn saw Illya go immediately on alert. The young mage began looking around for any sign of movement. Eralyn, however, saw him first. Stepping out from behind a tree further up the trail was a man. Eralyn pointed him out to Illya. He was average height and had his long, black hair pulled into a spiky bun. He was obviously oriental and wore a dark, baggy gi. Around his waist hung two plated metal sheets that covered the sides of his legs. Also on his waist was a katana. His attention focused on Michael as he stated, "I'm impressed you could sense me. That's never happened before."

Michael gave a modest shrug, "I almost didn't. Saw a shift in the wind and figured the most logical answer was someone was blocking it. Although no normal person should be able to hide from me. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you're a Servant?"

As soon as the word Servant was mentioned, Illya sprang to action. She quickly moved away from the man further up and called out, "Berserker!"

The air warped in front of her and Berserker rapidly materialized, announcing himself with a loud roar. He stood defensively in front of Illya and leveled his weapon at the man. Eralyn began to call everyone's attention to try and prevent unnecessary fighting, but the man spoke quicker, "I will give you to the count of five to leave. After that, you will be dealt with accordingly. One."

He moved his hand to the handle of his blade.

"Two"

He crouched slightly leaned forward to keep himself centered.

"Three."

Illya looked at Berserker and said, "He was able to expertly hide his presence. He's most likely an Assassin class Servant. They're weak in direct combat."

"Four."

"Berserker! Kill-"

"Five."

There was a violent gust of wind that Eralyn had to shield her face from in addition to an earth shattering boom. Looking back up, she saw that the man was nowhere to be seen. A voice in the distance behind them announced where the man was, "Once again I find myself impressed. Not only are you still alive, but you managed to dodge my complete strike."

Eralyn twirled around and saw the man standing erect almost twice the distance he had been away from them. She couldn't believe it; in a fraction of a second, the man had covered almost 300 feet. She turned to Illya and was shocked to see her trembling. Eralyn inched toward her and asked, "Illya?"

Illya slowly turned to Eralyn and said, "Berserker…"

Eralyn turned to the behemoth and gasped. Though he was standing, Eralyn counted eight holes in his body; three on each arm (one on the shoulder, one at the elbow, and one at the wrist), one in the middle of his chest, and one just below his waist. A deep gash was present on the inner end of Berserker's clavicle indicating that head was supposed to be hit as well. Fortunately it was tilted to the side. Illya, still trembling, looked at the man and said, "Eight lives instantly gone. That's…."

She couldn't even manage to complete her sentence. Eralyn saw the man move and retake the stance. Before she could even attempt to call out, the wind returned. This time, however, the loud clanging of steel on steel reverberated through the air. Something rocketed through the trees to the left of of the group and wood splinters exploded outward as the trees were shattered. As her vision refocused, Eralyn saw Michael standing in the path that the other Servant would have taken. He was stanced sideways and a long, ornate spear was positioned along the horizontal length of his body. The spear was slightly taller than Michael and pure white. A gold, thorn-like pattern descended the entire shaft. Looking directly at it hurt Eralyn's eyes. She redirected her gaze to Michael's face and breathed, "Whoa."

A couple dozen yards off, the group saw the man rise from the ruined pile of trees. He brushed himself off and Michael said, "So you've got the sword skill of a Saber, the speed and stealth of an Assassin, and the durability of a Berserker. Just what exactly are you?"

The man cracked his neck as he began moving back toward the group and said, "Well you just listed three options. Process of elimination should yield to you the desired answer."

As Michael readied his spear, the man too prepared his sword. Having made it very apparent that she wasn't going to get a word out otherwise, Eralyn closed her eyes and shouted, "Would you two stop fighting for one second?!"

Michael glanced back at her, unsure how he should respond. The man too gave a pause, slightly surprised at the call for parley. The decision for a ceasefire was made by a second voice coming, again, from further up the path, "Assassin, stand down."

The Servant nodded and dematerialized. Eralyn heard Michael murmur, "That was going to be my second guess."

All heads turned toward the source of the voice and saw another man. He was similar in height and build to Assassin but wore a modern looking suit and had short, black hair. He looked down at the group, hands in his pockets, and said, "You have one chance to state your reason for being here. If it is not sufficient, Assassin will continue his assault."

Eralyn looked to Illya who was finally calming down and saw her shake her head. Frowning, Eralyn walked over to her and whispered, "We need to tell him why we're here."

"No we don't!" Illya quietly answered back, "We need to retreat and reorganize. His Servant is much stronger that I could have anticipated. Berserker won't last against another shot like that."

"But he might be able to help us," countered Eralyn.

"Or he could just kill us all. I don't see Lancer doing any better than Berserker. We need to come up with a strategy."

Eralyn rolled her eyes, "I don't think he's going to kill us. Like you said, it'd be easy for him to do it now. That master is giving us a chance to explain things to him. We should take that opportunity to see if he knows anything or if he can offer us any help."

Illya scowled, going into thought. After a couple seconds, she groaned in defeat and murmured, "Fine, but if we die, it's you're fault."

Eralyn nodded and turned back to the man. She took a deep breath and then did her best to explain why they were there, "We're from the Mages Association. We're here to collect a small object so that we can keep it safe."

"The Holy Grail fragment, then?"

Eralyn blinked at him and glanced to Illya who looked equally as surprised. Eralyn gulped and said, "Then you know what we're looking for?"

"Obviously. Now what makes you think that it'd be safer with you than here with me?" he asked.

Illya chimed in, "Wait. You're protecting it?"

"Of course," the man answered, "What else would I do with it?"

"Then that means that you're not with the other group," Illya said mostly to herself.

This seemed to catch the man's attention, "Other group?"

"Yeah," Eralyn said, "There's another group out there with Servants of their own that are trying to gather the grail pieces. We're trying to stop them."

The man looked over the group, scrutinizing them briefly, before turning and saying, "My name is Yuro Kazeshini. Follow me. It will take the monks at least twelve hours to undo their protection ritual around the fragment. You can wait in the monastery until they are finished. While you're waiting, you can catch me up on what the situation is."

Eralyn looked at Illya, pleased. Illya sighed and said, "I guess you were right."

She shifted her attention to Berserker and said, "You are dismissed Berseker, but stay close."

The large Servant grunted and then dematerialized. Eralyn turned to Michael and said, "You can go too, Michael."

Michael chuckled and said, "I don't think so. I'm going to stick around just in case. Can't leave you two unattended."

"Fine," sighed Eralyn, "Just behave yourself."

As the group began following Yuro, Michael said, "No promises."