Authors Note: Hi, hi guys and girls! Sorry I've been out of commission for so long. Real life caught up with me and it became very difficult to focus on my writing, but I'm mostly back together now and I should be pumping out weekly updates from here on out for the foreseeable future. I've taken some feedback into consideration and am adjusting my style a bit to compensate, and I'll also be going back through some of the old chapters to make some adjustments when I get the time. Sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy! As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!

As her consciousness begins to return, the first thing the Caster class servant becomes aware of is the pain assailing her body. But pain is good. Pain means she is still alive, at least for now. She is violently being shaken about, and an annoying voice rings in her ears although she can't quite make out what it's saying. Her eyes slowly open; a young man, still well within his youth is carrying her. That must be what the sensation of being shaken is. The boy is running. She attempts to speak, but no sooner then she makes the effort, blood fills her mouth instead. She chokes violently on it, catching the attention of the young man. He quickly sets her down, and sits her upright, trying to create a more clear passage through her airway. The boy is clearly no medical expert.

"You're alive." It's not a question; it's more of a confirmation of what he's seeing, both for his and her own sake. She nods. "There's a pay phone nearby. I'm going to call the police." His voice is oddly even, considering how absurd this situation must seem. "I'm going to get you help. So just hang on, okay?" As he stands to turn away, panic fills the woman. She is almost out of prana; if she had a bit more, she might even be able to regenerate from her ruptured heart. But as it stands now, all she can do is use the little prana she has to sustain her life with her regenerative capabilities; without a new source soon, she will either die from her wounds, or die from a lack of magical energy. Either way everything is over once the boy leaves. She grabs his hand, pulling him back towards her before he can walk away. "What are you doing?"

"You want to save me?" The boy nods. "Then stay by my side."


I'm at a loss for words and feel my face grow hot. This is a wildly inappropriate reaction for a time like this, but I can't help myself. Her body in tatters, this woman grips my hand so tightly and whispers, "Stay by my side." What can I do? If I don't get some kind of help, she'll die. Chances are she will anyways, so...

"What do you need me to do?" After a moment of silence I answer. Unnatural lavender locks of hair shift as she pulls me down towards her. My face gets even hotter, and I'm sure it's turned three shades of red at this point. Our faces are level with one another, and she leans in towards my ear.

"What is your name boy?" Her voice is strangely beautiful.

"Emiya Shirou." I answer almost automatically.

"Then repeat my words." I'm at a loss. This is such a peculiar request, and I can't see the relevance to this situation, but the way she's holding me towards her, I can't seem to refuse. "I announce." As if in a trance, I begin to repeat after her. It must be my imagination, a trick of the light, but I could swear that I see her body disappearing from the corner of my eye. Oddly enough, I can't seem to bring myself to look away from her face to make sure.

"I announce." It sounds robotic, yet oddly serene even to my own ears. This voice is almost unfamiliar to me. "Thy body shall be under my command, and my fate shall be determined by thy sword. If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer. And I shall entrust my fate to you." I am no Magus. Kiritsugu had made sure never to teach me any of the more advanced aspects of magecraft, just enough to ensure I didn't hurt myself too badly. But even I can tell this is some kind of contract. So why can't I stop myself from saying it? The hand that she is clutching begins to sting. No, it burns. It's as if it has been set aflame. I grit my teeth, enduring the agony.

"I will accept your oath under the name of Caster. I accept you as my Master, Shirou." And with that, my world goes black. It's as if I'm sinking into a vast ocean in the middle of the night. There is no light. There is no sound. I feel as if I'm drowning in the sensation of nothingness. What have I just done?


The boy collapses onto the ground as Caster drains him of his magical energy. Her hypnosis had worked wonders, but it was a gamble. If she used the last of her prana on hypnotizing the boy and the contract was not forged quickly enough, she would simply fade away. She had already begun to, actually, but once connected to the boys magic circuits, she had since stabilized and regained most of her mass.

She is in a desperate situation, and needs as much power as possible to restore her heart. Surprisingly enough, this boy seems to have some amount of innate magical energy, but not nearly enough. She has to move on to his soul. Such an abrupt loss of prana must be jarring to the child, as his consciousness rapidly begins to fade. Her wounds begin to close; the pain is still immense, but this influx of prana has aided her natural healing capabilities. She will survive.

It's lucky then, that Lancer didn't know she could regenerate; he may have taken more certain measures to ensure her, or the boys death to keep this situation from arising. As it stands now, it makes sense that he wouldn't have ended things there; very few servants would have regenerative capabilities advanced enough to survive an attack to the heart. From his perspective, he already had ensured that she was dead. Unlucky for him. Good for her. But now, there's a new issue.

"Ugh..." The boy grunts in agony as his life begins to slip away. What to do with him? She was far from fully recovered, and was still in great pain. Every drop of his soul she rips away from him would do wonders for her own well being. The energy within his soul is amplified exponentially when converted into prana and siphoned into her. But still... He had saved her, had he not?

"Not of his own free will..." The witch mutters. Her understanding of magical contracts is advanced enough however to know that this simply isn't true. She used the last of her prana to hypnotize him, forcing him to say the words... But a magical contract cannot be forced. His willingness to participate is what made this possible. She stares at him for a few moments, contemplating.

She is a Caster class servant. Her strength is among the lowest possible for a Heroic Spirit, with a rank of E, but even still that is many times stronger then an average human. She reaches down, lifting the boy into her arms with ease. If nothing else, she has to ensure his survival until she can find a new solution to her lack of magical energy. Her new source of prana won't do her much good if she taps it dry immediately.

It's as if a man dehydrating in the desert was suddenly given a bottle of water. He would be tempted to drink it all immediately to quench his insatiable thirst, but that would only doom him later. It's the same here; the best thing she can do for herself, is to take it in with moderation. Just enough to keep away from death, for as long as possible. It's not ideal... "But it's the only way to survive for now," she once again mutters to nobody in particular. But where to take him?

Well, maybe she could use just a little bit more of his prana. Something small like this shouldn't kill him.


I'm surrounded by a field engulfed in flames. This is a memory I have relived many times throughout my dreams, but this is different. The heat of the fire and the burning clouds of ash... I don't feel either of them right now. The ash may as well be snow with how cold it is. Everything is like ice... But regardless of the change in how it feels, the memory itself remains the same.

Death. As far as the eye can see. Burning buildings. Burning corpses. Burning memories. The fire that had struck Shinto casually wiped away hundreds of lives, and everything I was before Kiritsugu along with them. In a way I guess you could say the fire wiped my life away as well. The child that existed before I was Emiya Shirou was no more.

There is no hope to be had in a place like this. It's such an obvious Hell that even a child could understand it. That there can be no salvation. That there is only death to be had here. I stumble through the flames aimlessly looking for a way out. Simply because I am the only one left alive, I ought to survive. For all of those who didn't have that chance. Eventually I can't walk anymore. I collapse, as I have in this dream a hundred times before... And it begins to rain.

Normally the rain brings a feeling of relief. I acknowledge that it will put the fire out, and the same glimmer of hope from back then would fill my thoughts, but now... With this cold accompanying it, the rain is like ice. It feels uncomfortable. It pours, and pours, and pours. It covers me. It submerges me. Rising higher and higher around me. The fire is replaced by a great flood.

This is wrong. This is all wrong.

This memory; this is the memory of when Kiritsugu saved me, it should be happening now, so why-?

The water begins to grow more violent. Suddenly my movements are my own again, and I become acutely aware of the sensation of drowning. Why does this feeling seem so familiar? Regardless it's unpleasant, so I desperately claw my way towards the surface of the water. I surface, and am in awe at what I see. An ocean surrounds me, and passing by? A great wooden ship. I can only stare up at it in shock and surprise, but I suddenly realize; somewhere along the line, this recurring nightmare of that memory from 10 years ago, has become an ordinary dream. That's somewhat relieving, but-

"Disgusting," a voice calls out from atop the ship. "What a revolting sight. Throw that mess overboard, now."

"Yes, my love." An oddly familiar voice. Where have I heard it before? I don't have long to contemplate before I see it; something begins to tumble off the ship. They land in the water beside me.

Splash. Splash. Splash. Bits and pieces of something, but what-? I can only stare in horror as I realize what I see. Pieces of a person. Pieces of a man. Ripped apart. Shredded. Hacked into chunks, and discarded into the sea. What monster could do such a thing? A wave overtakes me and I am submerged in the void once more.


A light slowly fills my vision. A warmth too, that begins within my hand and slowly spreads to the rest of me. My eyes slowly begin to focus; and I'm surprised. I'm lying in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, but I feel strangely safe. The smell of medicine, ointment, and antiseptic fills the room. I glance around; there's a lot of injured people in the beds alongside mine. Exclusively children. In hindsight, hospitals do tend to have children's wards so that does make some amount of sense.

Days pass, and as I begin to recover from my wounds I understand the severity of my situation. Of the situation of all the children around me. There had been a terrible fire. It was a miracle I had survived, my parents had died, and I was alone. You would think that a child would have a hard time coming to terms with this. Maybe it should've been hard for me. But all I could do is lie in bed and process this information, so it didn't take much time to accept.

I understand now; I'm back here again. In this dream. It's a memory I know well. I didn't have much time to worry about what would happen to me before he arrived.

"You must be Shirou-kun." From there, the conversation took a handful of twists and turns. He introduced himself; Emiya Kiritsugu. He asked if I would like to go to an orphanage, or if I'd like to go with him. Personally, I had no stake in it one way or the other. The way I saw it, I would be staying with a stranger regardless. At the very least I'd interacted with him, so I knew what to expect. So I guess it was a natural conclusion that I would accept his offer.

"Fantastic," he says with a great smile. "That's absolutely fantastic. We should probably work on gathering your things." Before I can respond one way or the other, he hastily begins packing my bags in an excited fervor. He does a terrible job of it, even in my eyes, and I can tell he's a bit unorganized himself. After making a huge mess of things, he looks up, as if realizing he forgot something important. "But first... And I probably should have mentioned this before... I'm a magus. Do you know what that is?" I don't answer, so he must have taken that as a no. "I'm like a wizard." There's no sense of sarcasm or a joke in his words. "Is that okay with you?"

Come to think of it, I truly was a child. I didn't hesitate, I didn't doubt. He told me was a wizard, so it must be true. "Wow... That's awesome!" I don't personally even remember this part. But Father would always reminisce about that day. He would remember the story, and retell it again, and again, and again. Each time, he would get to that part, and a huge smile would spread across his face as he'd repeat what I said. "Wow... That's awesome!" Every single time. If the way he talked about it was any indicator, I think it's safe to say that may have been the happiest moment of his life.

As odd as it was that he would outright tell a child that he was a magus, I guess it was more strange that I belived it outright. Even more ridiculous then that, I found it something to be admired. This man took me in, and I became an Emiya. I was proud. I was proud to share the last name of the man who had saved my life.

Years passed. As I grew to be old enough to stay home by myself, Kiritsugu began leaving on longer and longer trips outside of Japan. He would always go off on adventures, "traveling the world" as he put it, and leaving me behind. I had to learn how to take care of myself, and as such began to take a certain amount of pride in my cooking. He would often times disappear for months, and there was one instance where he was gone for half a year. It was somewhat lonely, being by my own in such a large house, but whenever Father would return, that sense of loneliness would be replaced by wonder at the stories he would tell me from his adventures abroad.

The Father who would always chase his dreams as if he was a little kid... He was wildly irresponsible, and his attitude was somewhat careless. Regardless, I loved and admired him, as only a child could. Regardless of all of his flaws, he was an absolutely dazzling beacon of heroism to me... And I wanted to be like him one day myself. It also stands to reason that the cause behind my trying to be so reliable, was looking at how unreliable he himself was.


"Senpai? You've slept in quite late today." A voice calls out to me. I open my eyes and quickly become aware of how much pain my body is in. I feel exhausted, not just physically but mentally. My head feels very hazy. The door to my room slides open and Sakura gingerly enters. I attempt to sit up, only to realize that the condition my body is in won't allow for that too easily. I grunt in pain. She glances down towards me, her expression quickly shifting from curiosity to concern. She races down to my side. "Senpai!"

"Good morning, Sakura." An unusually casual response for this situation, but it's the first thing that comes to mind. She grabs me and helps me sit up. Doing so reveals a series of bruises along my arms and hands. The aches traveling throughout my body make me realize just how many more must cover the rest of me. My left leg feels like it could be broken. I glance up to her; she looks like she's slipping into shock seeing my condition. I suppose I can't really blame her.

"Senpai, what-?" She trails off, but the question pretty much asks itself. What happened?

"I..." I think back. What did happen? I remember a Knight in Blue, and- "There was... A woman. She was hurt, very badly, and..." I hesitate. The story sounds so outlandish even in my head, so I have no idea how I could repeat it out loud to Sakura. In fact, I'm pretty sure I shouldn't even if I could make it make sense. It's hard to separate what happened from my series of dreams last night; everything is hazy. I don't even remember getting home. "I don't know." I shake my head. "I'm not entirely sure." She stares at my hand, even more disturbed then before.

"Senpai, what's-?" I glance down at my hand, curious as to what could have her more perturbed then my current condition. I definitely see why she was so off-put; an intricate marking; it looks a lot like a tattoo, vaguely resembling the appearance of a sword is engraved on my left hand.

"I have no idea." I answer honestly. I stare at it equally dumbfounded. What the Hell actually happened last night? Sakura stares for what seems like a long time, but I suppose I can't really tell for sure; in this much pain, even a few seconds feels like a while.

"Sorry, Sakura. I didn't mean to sleep in. I'll help you with breakfast, okay?" I attempt to pull myself to my feet, but the condition of my leg quickly puts me back down. This isn't good.

"Senpai, you're in no condition to make breakfast like this." I try to argue with her, but considering I can't even stand up it's hard to make a compelling case. "You just rest, okay? I'm going to call Fujimura-sensei." She stands up and leaves my room very abruptly.

Great. Fuji-nee is the last person I need knowing about my condition. I have no idea what I could even say to her to explain this. I don't even get a chance to argue with Sakura about this, since I can't follow her out of the room. I lean back and close my eyes.

"I see you're awake, boy." A familiar voice fills my ears. "Good to see I didn't get too greedy. I was nervous for a second." My eyes shoot open, and a woman with a beauty like I've never seen fills my vision. Unnatural lavender hair, a beautiful violet shade of lipstick, deep blue eyes... Pointed ears? Everything about this situation is unreal, but more importantly, it reminds me of the Knight in Blue.

"How much of that was real?" I manage to ask the most obvious question before giving into my sense of panic.

"That depends on what you saw, Master. If you're referring to saving me from Lancer, well, that happened at the very least." Several thoughts fill my head. Lancer? Master? What does any of this mean?

"I'm lost. You're going to need to explain this to me." For starters, the most important question... "Why are you in my room?" She gives a small smile.

"Good to see you have your priorities in order, Master."