The man in red lands on the sand, gently but abrupt, disturbing the peace of the lapping water. It is almost an identical location to where the madness began; here, however, the sand gives way to loose soil and a mushy undersurface. The muddy bank pulls everyone down and the weight on their shoulders take desperate hold of them, but the strong pull through, stepping forward and into the refreshing water. The raven overhead bays at the dark sun, alerting the shadows and waking the dead.
Before the man in red stands a hunched figure. In the unusually darkness, the figure seems black, but hints of purple in his robes breathe life into the still creature. A head turns as the raven lands on his tattooed arm, the bird's red eyes suddenly unseeing as information – and, unfortunately, life – is drained from it. The feathers turn grey, and the bird teeters off, falling to dust as the man fully turns around to his guest.
"Greetings, dearly tragic! You have a gift for me!"
The man in red suddenly scowls, remembering his place in his world – he is but a tool. A tool done with the toil of living.
"It depends," he hints an argument, "on what you have to offer me." He drops the burden, lowering it closer to the ground before letting go.
But the hunched figure sways as it spins around to face the man, taking the newcomer by surprise. The figure bears no scars, but rather multiple creases on its protruding forehead. Eyes too large to fit the decayed skull spin, refusing to line up properly on the subject of the hour. Short black hair rises and falls as if controlled by an invisible lifeforce, swaying in the wind, indifferent to the chilly atmosphere.
Its those eyes, the asshole of an angel concludes. It's those eyes that are causing all of this.
Who are you." Again, it is an assertion, not a question, that lingers on those last three words.
The shadow'y figure takes a bow, a smile stretched to inhumane lengths across his face.
"I am Gilles De Reis."
No. You are the fool that killed Hashimoto Takao.
"And who does me the honor of jooooining me this beauuuutiful evening?"
The man in red remains unchanged. Gilles De Reis? No, this is no man, this is hardly considered a living being. It is twisted, its reality and fantasy warped into one heaping mess.
"Well, you see, silent suitor, you are here by my bidding. I apolooogize for disturbing your peace of mind in that accursed cup." He lifts a thin fist to the heavens and shakes it at the black hole where the sun once stood. "But this is for my holy conquest! It is to avenge my fallen angel, the bring her blessed soul back to the land of the living!" He spins back around to the man in red, eyes crooked like his god-awful smile. "But it would appear you brought me a gift. Oh, no matter the mind of your name, and no matter the gift." Archer's poker face falls apart – no, he has enough mana now? How can this be? - as he reclines a step in shock. Caster raises both arms to the bleak, abandoned heavens, oblivious to the man's reaction. "I have been reaping enough lost souls in this sinful wasteland to summon the grail once more, and I am soooo joyful to share this momentous occasion with another sinner!"
"Why are you doing all of this."
The question is, as it always has been, foreboding and frank. Caster looks back over his shoulder at the man, but a shadow drapes his handsome, hard face. Both are silent as the water laps at the weak, softshored bay; that is, until, Archer raises his eyes to Caster. "What is your motive for summoning the grail time and time again?"
"Ah! I see you have read through my initial words! Please, allow me to explain." He bows once more, wild eyes set on his ultimate prize. "Not but some years ago, I was a victim of this sinnerly cup and its petty wars. And in the final, ablazed moment before my departure, I recognized my fault. Why oh why am I here, but my grace and glory Jeanne d'Arc has failed to be so? Is this so-assumed cup truly a blessing? If so, it oh so verrry must contain my beloved's essence as it does mine. So, why not runnith the cup over?" He shrugs, his cards out on the table. "I have nothing to hid from a kindred spirit who seeks resolution in his peace. After having killed oh so many, what prevents you from joining me in the final killing of the evening?"
Archer clenches his fists. "You know who I am."
"Indeeeed I do! We are knots on the opposite ends of a lace woven by God himself! And who but our dear small girl holds that string together?"
"I thought you said you had enough prana."
"Well, I do now, thanks to youuuu!" He walks closer, a calm before the store settling in his unsettling eyes. "At the death of the bloodied witness here, all shall be achieved. I will continue to runnith over the Holy Grail until my precious Jeanna d'Arc returns to me. Annnnnd, once she is beside me again, we will play this garden of Earth until the very clouds in heaven are bloodstained! So, what shall it be," the bloodied Caster, one of the most infamous people in the history of humankind, clasps his hands together in glee. "Shall we peel apart this insolent child of god?"
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Of all the madmen out there, I pegged Gilles to be one of the worst. The legend of Gilles was taught to me somewhere in high school as a weapon to "never leave the house at night b/c people like Gilles De Reis would be out and about." He killed many, anywhere between 150 and 800. It was a stupid tool for my teacher to use on us, but his legend struck me pretty hard.
Seeing him in Fate/Zero really startled me; I would have never pegged him to be a "Heroic Spirit," but I guess that's the point of this whole Holy War. You never know the full story, and you never know what kind of terror you can bring back to walk the earth… besides, Heroic Spirit? That's just a title given to landmark figures in history.
The theory here is that, since the protagonist used Rho Aias when she recited the original spell, she tied herself to Archer in a mock manner a Master/Servant bond would be established. At the same time she was tied to the Grail's corruption, something brought about by Caster. If point B is between A and C, Caster is A, Hashimoto is B, and Archer is C. Thus I'd imagine Caster would have some prior knowledge about Archer.
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!I ACTUALLY NEED YOUR HELP THOUGH!
Who do you think is the strongest of the Rider class? Let me know your opinion, and the one with the most votes will be featured in a later chapter!