We moved from the top of the building to a forest more inland; one that, on the mountainside, could easily be a bird of prey's nest to overlook the city.

Reluctantly, I let Archer carry me. He and Lancer talked some more and even consulted Berserker before setting their eyes on this green piece of land (they wanted to know if his ability would work on the move). As Lancer went ahead to ensure the route was safe, Berserker flanked my scarlet savior, ready to take off. I was hesitant and tugged unnecessarily at my sleeves – what the hell is his problem anyway? Besides, I'm sure I could walk there, if I had access off this damn roof. Maybe Berserker will do it? – etc. Archer stands waiting arrogantly beside me as I come to my conclusion. I wring my hands as the sun falls, watching it and prin-picking individual gleams of the diamond-studded water.

Dr. Jekyll steps to stand beside me, oblivious to the blistering friction between Archer and I… I wonder if he could see the steam rolling off my head or the sparks flickering off Archer. Berserker smiles gleefully, which rubs me the wrong way.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" I growl, eyeballing the happy kitten. He beams. "I am new to this day and age," He confirms, a smile still stretches across his face, "but the glory of recognition is timely universal." I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." I trace Archer as he hawkeyes Lancer. My resent leaves me silent for another minute.

"Have you ever seen with eyes not your own?"
I finally turn, full-body, facing Berserker, arms folded. "What's that mean?"
"You may take it as you like," He beams wider, his soft, almost feather-like hair whisping in the wind. "The ability to recognize a need beyond one's mindset is a strength alone. Tell me, do you want to stay up here once night truly lays down across the land?"
A breeze stirs violent wind as I look Berserker down from the corner of my eye. He keeps smiling and rebuttons his cuffs. "Nonetheless, our commality here is singular and frail. Proper comrades are hard to come across, and to test them?" He raises his brows as he looks down, adjusting his gloves, a playful gleam in his eyes. "Well, les we forget the riotous haf lost to the cruel hand of predigest."

I watch him carefully. Its probably in my best interest to not bluntly tell him I don't understand shit, but he's got a point somewhere tangled in that mess. We shouldn't be here, and I shouldn't be whats keeping the team back.

Are we a team? I look back at Archer, the crimson statue unmoved. I didn't notice until now that he watches the land with some… oh my god, does he actually have emotions?

He watches the land with some sort of nostalgia in his eyes – they almost look wistful, those angry eyes of his. I turn and look blankly out to where he faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of whom he really is.

The breeze stirs again, and I sigh reluctantly. We don't exchange words as I approach him, and he stoops low to gently pick me up. He's careful about where he puts his hands this time, hoisting me in places where he's sure to not touch my skin. He doesn't need any help carrying me, but I put my arms around his neck for my own security. Archer almost smiles. Almost.

"Ready?"

"Lets hope so."

He bounds away, springing from one building to the next. Berserker is caught off-guard and scampers to catch up, but once he's beside us the struggle doesn't seem to end. Compared to Archer, Berserker tends to run on all fours across buildingtops, or at least when he's desperate to catch up to us; nonetheless, he has a stupid smile on his face, and we catch up to Lancer in no time.

It… I wont say it was an enjoyable ride – no, being carried by someone you don't know isn't the most comfortable experience – but it was dazzling to say the very least. Every time he neared a surface, I was sure we'd run splat into it.

But we didn't.

I can't say everything can experience flying, but that's the closest to flying I think ill ever get.

Lancer seemed more at ease when we arrived and instantly insisted he and Archer talk. Archer was reluctant, but did so without much hesitation. He set me down gently brushed past Berserker hastily before turning around.

"Don't forget what you have in your pocket, girl." I wave him away as Berserker watches the space grow between them and us. We're silent at first, and his small back is to me.

"Thank you, my dear."

"For what?"

"You stood up for me back there. You had no reason to, and yet you did. I thank you for your compassion to your fellow man."

"Don't push it," I growl, hastily pulling out Takao's book. "If anyone can decode what he wrote, it isn't us. You're our next best option, and I'm willing to hear you out as long as you are willing to work honestly. Fair trade?"

"Indeed." He bows deeply, a smile stretched across his puckish face. It's hard to imagine this guy is some sort of killer, especially one that would make Archer and Lancer apprehensive. Berserker gingerly takes the book from me and walks backwards into a tree to lean against. I peek at the two warriors conversing a little ways off and see Archer drop his arms as we make eye contact; its almost a what did he do to you? type of notion, as if he'd come and sweep me off my feet again. He re-assesses the situation however and flickers his attention back to Lancer, whose emerald back is to me. I kick at an overgrown tuft of grass stupidly before waltzing over to Berserker to hover and watch him work.

I pegged him as a guy who didn't enjoy simple people like me hovering over his shoulder, but he didn't pay any notice. He waves his hand over a page and it flickers to life, just to have it die out like a fleeting moment. He cups his chin, mumbles something, and tries again. I sit down beside him before too long, arms wrapped around my legs as I look up at the dark sky.

It's been a little while since this whole trip started. The wound on my forehead has healed over (surprisingly), and the stars are starting to peek out. It doesn't take long before a sigh triggers a painful reality.

What is going on at home right now? Do they think I ran away? I should have grabbed my phone before this whole episode started. I wont have any proof that this happened either, as long as I don't have a few pictures or something. No one will believe me when I get home.

If I get home. I turn my head to watch Lancer and Archer again, deep in conversation, Archer's face screwed tight as always. What's Hiro doing right now? Mom? Dad?

I start to try and hone in on what the two of them are saying, but for some stupid reason I reel it back in.

Maybe I'm nice, after all. I probably shouldn't hear whatever the have to say, right?
Its not like that's ever stopped me before. Besides, who knows if they're talking about me?

"Right, Miss Hashimoto?"

I jump several inches out of my skin at the touch of Berserker's hand on my shoulder. He smiles, oblivious (more likely irritated) to the fact that I wasn't listening to a word he said.

"Uh, sorry?"
His eyes are closed as he holds his smile. He sighs to keep his composure. "I was saying that you are lucky to have such powerful friends here. You must be close to them."

"Not really. I hardly know them."

"Ah, so you are trusting instead of allknowing. Quit the admirable quality."
"Its more like I don't know any better." I reply earnestly with a shrug; for some reason, he's easy to talk to. Its… its almost like he isn't some resurrected spirit here to fight to the death. "I kind of got thrown into this mess, its not like I can choose what happens to me from here on out. Curiosity killed the cat, after all."

"Curiosity is not armed, my friend. Virtute non armis fido – retain your virtues, and all will be well." He makes a point to trace his finger over the blank pages. "Your dearly beloved trusted in his own virtue and put valuable information out of reach of battle-hungry arms. He knew to keep the world at bay and used his abilities to do just that."

We are silent for a minute as I tilt my head back up to the dark sky. "I… I don't… can I ask you something? An honest question? Don't judge me for it."

He bows his head, out of the corner of my eye. "Ex voto, I vow to never look down upon you. Please, speak to your hearts content."

I wait so I can best wrap my thoughts around my words. "Do you… I mean… I don't know what's going on here anymore. There's a Holy Grail and there's a big war fought over it. All of you spirits are brought to the present day to fight for others, people here today. It doesn't seem very fair to you, since the mages don't actually fight, right? It's a game of cat and mouse, I guess, and it seems like all I'm good for is running away and knowing crap. At least proper masters know how to handle the situation." I burrow my chin between my knees and mumble, ears burning slightly in embarrassment. "I wish I knew how to help. I wish I could actually fight."

"Strength alone does not win wars." He responds vaguely as he turns another blank page. "But I agree with you. I always felt weak as a man in my skin: burdened, and purely unable." I peek over to see him now watching the stars; his eyes are absurdly bright, almost golden. "Knowing how the world danced through space never seemed to be enough. War is like life – it is but a dangerous game for those not prime."

"But that's how you became a Heroic Spirit, right? Because you knew so much? Doesn't that make you super strong in your own right?"

"Oh no, knowledge is undoubtedly power. But," Berserker lifts a pianist finger and tatata's his head. "When you're trapped in the same walls for a long time, the walls of information shape to fit a cage."

I wrap my arms tighter around my legs and peer at him, confusion written across my face. "I don't quite get what you just said."

"Knowledge, or human capitol, is a treasure unlike any other. However," He blushes and finally looks me in the eyes. "The palace of the mind hath its limits. Any prison works the same. At first, one hates the walls surrounding the soul – then, after decades of suffering, those walls melt into the individual's epidermis. To live, a bird, without the bars of its cage, after doing so f'r its own personal eternity, is to tender it wings of no use. Freedom is a nonsought vessel for Life's weary souls. Any prisoner, either of state 'r of war, will tell thou that."

"Were you a prisoner?" I can't help but ask. He beams at me, a bashful smile. "Of a sorts, indeed. Thou may yea suggest that I still am. The palace of the mind is an easy place to get lost in, and as a scholar…" He scratches his head and adjusts his glasses. "Well, you couldst almost say it's a scholar's duty to wander those very halls for eternity. The other me would, of course, deny my words, but alas the truth… well, Multi famam, conscientiam, pauci verentur, after all. My imprisonment is the simple truth that I am of the few."

I shake my head. "Sorry, I don't know Latin."

He chuckles cheekily like an elementary student that just told a repulsive joke. "No matter the words I do nor do not speak, recognize this truth, fair lady: the mind is the most magnificent of tools, and it is a tool under your discretion." He leans closer to me, eyes bugging with intensity. "Do not permit it control over you, understood?"

I lean back and look away – all of a sudden, the space between us was pretty much nothing. I'm as close as ever to punching him in the face, and I look away, heat rushing to my cheeks. He laughs, eyes shut tight in the effort of humoring himself. "Ah, clarere audere gaudere! Do not let this war nor the world take heed over you. Thy life is yours and yours alone." He runs a hand through his hair and looks at me squarely. "Simply put, clarere audere gaudere: be bright, joyful, and daring. Always."

I stare back at him blankly as a silence settles between us, and he rolls back on his haunches, laughing like a madman. "You're a piece of work, you know that, right?"

His hilarity leaves him unable to reply for a few moments. "Ah, well, like most, Meliora Cogito! There is no rest for the wicked, after all! Every moment is but that, a flickering moment!" For an instant, I almost seen how he can be a Berserker – he's so… unpredictable, yet predictably predictable. Like a kid on a playground: you know he's just jumping for the next chance to do something stupid. I force a small and uncomfortable chuckle, but my curiosity keeps its grasp on me. "Say… I know that Heroic Spirits are people from the world's past that are… well, you know, amazing in some way. I get that you're super smart, but what makes you a warrior? Aren't all Heroic Spirits fighters… at least to some extent?"

He beams again, a child once more in a land long gone, and runs a hand up his face to press his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well, I may not be proud of it, but a Berserker is a Berserker. My…" He stops and looks down, suddenly embarrassed, "My… other me, so to speak, is much more of a fighter than myself. Knowledge is my sword as his might is his own. My my, look at me, I must refrain from sounding like such a fool to a fair maiden like you." He chuckles awkwardly and looks at me, eyes suddenly yellow-tinted and not aligned. "Besides! When the world is telling you to keep quiet and that your mind is wrong to every extent – alas, have you heard another tell you your worth is minuscule? Or that your work is invalid? Oh, the best was how my life was thrown away and that I would never find the pleasure in the body of another – oh, how wrong they were!" He laughs, head thrown back as he heaves too and fro.

I'm a little creped out, to be honest. I can hear Archer stepping closer to us and I can practically see a scowl marrying his face, but I pick up my hand and hold it in a stop. He doesn't do it at first, but I whip around to mouth a quick "its okay."

Berserker's in his own reality right now: he doesn't notice a thing. He's laughing so hard I can see strings of saliva erupt from his cackling face.

"Hahaho! Oh how wrong they were! Oh, I found my pleasure in the bodies of many, to speak the absolute truth! Oh, how I found that warmth so luscious! So marvelous! And to kill, oh how that was an experience I shall never forget!" He straightens back up to look at me, slowly leaning forward so he's as close to me as possible. The yellow hint in his eyes glisten in the darkness, and I can't help but feel slightly threatened. He finally catches on to the awkwardness of the situation, and falls back to balance on his folded legs. He keeps chuckling and grabs his hair in the fistfuls. "Ah, as marvelous as it was, the terror in their eyes was most extraordinary! To have those who harassed me so relentlessly, colleagues included, on the tips of their horror, ready to fall back into their own monstrosities! Ah, hahaho!" He suddenly drops his head and his shoulders heave. The silence is disturbed by Archer planting himself behind me. Berserker's eyes open, wistful and somehow miserable, as his hands fall to his sides. "Tell me, do you understand the expression Cuius testiculos habeas, habeas cardia et cerebellum?" I shake my head, Archer behind me with a hand on my shoulder. Berserker looks at the both of us, tight fists clenched at his sides. The yellow is gone, his sanity returned. "Then thank your God, and pray you never do."

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*tender = offer

Well, tempus fugit! This was originally two separate updates but the first was just a transition and awful short, plus I've had you guys wait a while this go-round. I'm headed to Costa Rica for a few weeks, but I"m ahead of schedule so we should be fine.

Believe it or not, the stage has almost been completely set. Just a few more updates left before we get to the showdown - this adventure's almost over.

As always, I really, really appreciate comments.