II. Arrival

Bazett Fraga McRemitz breathed in the cool night air of Fuyuki as she left its airport, taking in the sights and sounds of where her latest mission was to be. The city was quiet and relaxed and, to her, almost in a momentary state of hibernation til morning. A welcomed change of pace and environment from the ever constant ebb and flow of the London metropolis—a city that never slept—for sure.

Walking the streets, all but empty, she thought of her mission. The reclamation of the 726th recorded Holy Grail since the days of King Arthur, fictional though he and his knights may be. One given to her by the Association in a small part based upon her combat prowess. A task fit for a dog. They hadn't said such, but it was clear to everyone that something like this was beneath them, and was best left to an Enforcer. The Sealing Designation Enforcers of the Mage's Association. to be precise. Their personal cleanup crew for those magi deemed too dangerous to continue. Tracking and hunting them down like bloodhounds, then securing any research done and their magic crest—what signified them as a magus—or destroying either if necessary.

If told.

Not that she was against the treatment.

Being an Enforcer hadn't been something she wanted to do originally, but after a certain incident involving her family she had chosen to walk down that road, content to be held back by a leash so long as she was given solace and provided with a means to exact her pent-up emotions. Channel it into her fists and beat it out of her system no matter what she had to do. Anything to rid herself of the hurt she felt. The anger at what happened and what she should have done to prevent it, forced to suffer with the reality that things would never go back to the way they were because she hadn't. What her participation in this Holy Grail War might correct. Even if only on a superficial level.

If only to mend her broken heart and so she could finally begin to heal. She had to be strong, for both their sakes.

And, before she knew it, she found herself at the front gate of the local church; the first stop on her mission. Shifting the container slung over her shoulder, she opened it and went inside. Finding who she wanted to see praying before the altar, as customary for a priest, she sat at a pew in the back and waited for him to finish. His name was Kirei Kotomine, the Father of the Fuyuki Church, official overseer of the Holy Grail War, and an old friend.

When he did finally finish, he spoke without turning to look at her. "I see you that you have been chosen."

She waited for him to stand to his feet and turn with Holy Bible in hand. "Only because of your recommendation." One she was truly grateful for, despite the man's nature.

He closed the bible and set it on the podium. "One they were right to heed," he said afterward, hands behind his back and betraying a faint smile.

She got up. "I came here to thank you for the opportunity," she said, pausing to look down at the bruise-like mark that had yet to fully form; her Command Spells that officiated her as a Master, once she was in possession of a Servant.

Normally, affairs on the other side of the world, especially rituals considered to be backwater attempts at reaching what all 'true' magi strived for, the Root, were not within an Enforcer's jurisdiction. Therefore, while the Association had an obligation to send one of their own to participate, it had no reason to send someone such as her. It was only by way of suggestion from her old friend, whom she had served with numerous times during his last days as one of the Church's infamous Executors, that she had been even considered.

And, so… happy… was she to be actually chosen, the least she could do was offer her thanks to the one mainly responsible. That was her reason for coming to the Church when instead she should've been making a mental map of those sights and sounds from earlier, set-up her safehouse, summoning her Servant, and pinpointing the locations of the other Masters. Something she was now ready to do and nearly out the church doors to start when Kirei called to her.

"If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to give you a piece of advice."

She stopped. "That's very generous of you, Kirei," she told him, keeping her tone neutral, "but I believe it would be best if from here on out we don't communicate outside of the designated rules. It might cause problems, and while I'm indebted, I don't require any assistance."

"I insist. You won't be disappointed."

Though he was indeed her friend, it didn't mean she would so easily let down her guard. Wary of his silver-tongue, she didn't respond, but also didn't leave. Not because she wanted to hear what he had to say, but because she felt a presence in the room that wasn't his. One that she hadn't before and cursed herself for not noticing sooner for letting her emotions cloud her better senses.

Kirei continued. "If you would allow, there is a location I believe is perfect for you to set up to summon your Servant, so to speak. It's not far from here."

It was seemingly harmless, both Kirei's location which he'd described as a sewer line that ran underneath the bridge connecting the city to a more rural area on the other side and the presence she'd felt back at the church.

Neither were a threat to her, she surmised, and now within this sewer line, no longer hearing Kirei's voice or longer feeling that presence, an incantation circle painstakingly inscribed on the floor, Bazett, without fanfare and much to her chagrin for going against her previous words, yet again thanked her old friend for informing her of such a location. Directly below the hustle and bustle of the city above, it was a very well thought area to summon her Servant indeed. Any noise of the summoning would be dispersed not only by the thick concrete walls of sewer line, but also the river nearby. The man was as sharp as ever.

And, Cú Chulainn's earrings in her palm, this was it.

With these two little, seemingly insignificant ornaments she would summon one of the greatest spear-wielders of legend as her Servant and thereby become an official participate in the Fifth Holy Grail War as his Master. To meet Cú Chulainn in the flesh, to speak with him and find out with her own two eyes what such a man was like rather than just reading about his deeds in storybooks—the anticipation was almost enough to kill her.

How different was he from the storybooks? The tragedy that was his story, was it really true? Could she alter it somehow? Save him? Would she be able to?

Her thoughts wandered to the one person other than Kirei she had to thank for making it this far; the reason behind the person she was now.

Holding out the earrings, she knew that without him back then, she never would have been able to stand where she was right now; the wish she was going to grant would never have been realized. She was going to return what he'd given her. When she won the Grail and found him again, she would finally give him a smile equal to his own, and, began.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg. The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Repeat every five times. Simply, shatter once filled…
"Hound of Culann, I announce. Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword. In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
"Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world, of the dead. I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world, of the seven heavens clad in three words of power. Arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance, Hound of Culann!"

In a flash of light under cover of smoke, Cú Chulainn himself stood in the center of the incantation circle. Short, youthful, and beardless, his skin was fair and features slender, blue-black hair thick and smooth, grey eyes like the color of dreary rain.

There was no telling what personifications the Grail had chosen to piece together the mythical hero standing before her, thus she would have to go with what she'd read about. His appearance was in line with The Phantom Chariot of Cú Chulainn and Fled Bricrenn, at least. That being the case, if those tales of him were to be believed, she knew that sorrow gripped at his heart and wouldn't let go. His head was no longer filled with a belief in the grandeur and purity of the world from his younger days. Instead, it was clouded in a swirling mist of shame and grief as a man in his early thirties. The weight of his deeds kept him grounded to reality, and his temperament was like a storm cycle, playfully raging around one minute and calm moments later.

A way of life that rang all too true with that of her own.

Regardless, now wasn't the time. Moving away from his face, he wore a fur mantle with partial scraps of leather and metal armor over a tight fitting body suit for a balanced mixture of speed and protection. His spear made from the bone of the sea monster Coinchenn, the infamous barbed spear Gáe Bulg, lay across his shoulder, and it was most likely his Noble Phantasm. She would have to confirm this after they got situated somewhere else.

Putting his earrings back on, she watched the spear-wielder's eyes shift, wary of danger, before relaxing and resting his spear across lean, muscular shoulders. "I am Cú Chulainn, Lancer-class Servant, and I have answered your summons." He flashed a grin. "Lookin' forward to it, Master."

Lancer was one of the three knight classes that a Master had a chance of summoning. They were second only to the Saber-class, which was regarded as the strongest Servant overall. A card she wasn't about to let go to waste.