-Emiya-
"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories."
-Terry McKay, An Affair to Remember
Prologue
January 20th, 2010 A.T.B.
Federal Republic of Germany
European Universe
It was an unusually clear day for winter in the Alps. The sun shone clearly for the first time in many a day, and the grounds around the normally forbidding stone castle glowed with the reflected light. The snows of the night before had finally ceased, and a renewed frosting of white covered the ground, marred only by two sets of footprints.
"The buds are starting to sprout on the trees, mother!"
"Yes, Ilya…isn't it nice?"
With large, exaggerated steps, the silver haired-girl stalked through the snow that reached almost to her waist. With a bright smile, she craned her neck to peek at every little bud and branch in the frostbitten castle garden. Behind her, her mother smiled with a warmth that could have melted snow.
Emiya Kiritsugu smiled—a smile that carried more sadness than happiness.
To the unknowing bystander, Ilyasviel von Einzbern and Irisviel von Einzbern could have just been just any mother and daughter enjoying a lull in the endless winter of the Einzbern castle.
Kiritsugu would have given anything to make it that they were.
Grabbing the Heckler and Koch Mark 23 Semi-automatic .45 on a table next to him, Kiritsugu suddenly grabbed a magazine on the desk, slamming the magazine into the stock of the handgun. Without hesitation, he pulled back the slide and released, allowing it to snap back into place. Disengaging the safety, he aimed down the barrel at the wall across from him. For a moment, he stared intently—and then sighed.
Too rusty. A skilled soldier or special forces officer would have taken him down before he was finished.
Then again, it was only to be expected after nine years out of the field with only one break.
He glanced out the window at where his wife and daughter were frolicking in the snow.
He was glad Iri and Ilya were not inside—he didn't want them to see this part of him again.
The him that he had put away since meeting Iri.
Kiritsugu sighed again with a slight smile. Ilya and Iri had really made him soft. If he had acted how he had when he had first arrived, he wouldn't have cared.
He glanced outside once more. Ilya was in the snow, splashing snow at her mother, both laughing happily. Kiritsugu smiled affectionately—and then chuckled derisively.
What would the Emiya Kiritsugu from ten years ago, training children to carry out assassinations in the Middle East, have thought of the Emiya Kiritsugu today?
The infamous Magus Killer, who had once killed whole families, presuming to hope for the ordinary happiness of a normal family? Just a killer past his prime, trying to play house.
Was it wrong that he had a right to a family, no matter how long, when he had removed those rights from so many?
Outside, Ilya was pointing at a flower that pushed its hardy white petals out of the snow.
"Mother, what is this flower?"
"Ahhhh…that's an Edelweiss. It normally grows a certain distance up the mountains in spring. Your father planted this one.[1]"
One could almost hear Ilya's eyes widening with curiosity. "Really?"
Irisviel smiled fondly, her eyes looking at something faraway. "When you were born, your father went out alone. He spent a whole day looking for a sprout to take back. I still recall how he smiled when he came back…he was almost crying. He said you were his Edelweiss."
"That's so cool! I want to go get one too! Can we go, mother?"
"Let's wait until you're older," Iri replied with a laugh.
"But I wanna," Ilya pouted, puffing her cheeks in an attempt to look a bit more intimidating.
"Your father was in bed for a week afterwards with a cold, and he had to take medicine every day. You don't want that, do you?"
"Let's wait until I'm older," Ilya replied brightly, and all too quickly.
Kiritsugu smiled. Of course he had not fallen sick. Secluded in the Einzbern castle for the eight years of her life, Ilya hadn't learned to doubt people. It was a harmless lie anyway—better to make her think it were the truth.
The Edelweiss, the Noble White flower (Author: That's what it means in German)—a short-lived, small flower that bloomed a beautiful white flower among the vicious snows of the alps.
Unfortunately, it described Ilya perfectly.
Ilyasviel von Einzbern would likely stop growing before she reached puberty.
Kiritsugu tried to suppress the bitter pain that gripped his chest at the thought.
Ilya, his daughter, had already been robbed of her adulthood—and, in mere weeks, Kiritsugu would rob her of her mother in the Holy Grail War.
That was the destiny of all of the Einzbern Homunculus.
The elders of the Einzbern had not given them Ilya out of the goodness of their hearts—her stunted growth resulted from the thousand modifications that these thousand-year masters of alchemy had wrought in Irisviel's womb. Ilya, to the Von Einzbern, was simply a huge magic circuit maintained by a living body.
And yet, Kiritsugu could not shy away from this fight, the battle that would take away the life of his wife and his daughter's mother.
Ilya was, in a way, the backup, the one who would be sacrificed were Kiritsugu and Iri to fail to retrieve the grail.
And that was why Emiya Kiritsugu cannot fail.
For Ilya…I have to win. At any cost.
Methodically, Kiritsugu disassembled his handgun.
With forced efficiency, he began reassembling the pistol.
It was night in the forest when Kiritsugu entered the chapel.
The word chapel, of course, is a misnomer—no religious services have ever been held in this chamber, as reminiscent as it was to the inside of a church.
This is a sacrificial chamber, a chamber where ceremonies are enacted.
The stained glass depicted not bible stories, but the thousand year history of the Von Einzbern's search for the miracle they had once held.
The picture of the founding of the Holy Grail Wars depicted Justizia Lizrich von Einzbern, Archmagus and the greatest of the Von Einzbern magus, a majestic being clothed in white. On both sides, she was attended by two fawning magus, the Tohsaka and the Matou. It was a very clear sign of what the Von Einzbern thought of their oriental counterparts.
The Einzbern had sought the grail as long as they could remember, confined in a self-imposed exile deep in the mountains of Germany, accepting no help and lending none to others.
Having found no result, the Einzbern grudgingly agreed to work with two magus families of the far east; the Makiri, still one of the most powerful Magus houses of East Asia, and Tohsaka, guardians of the strongest spiritual land of the Far East.
Yet when their grail was built, the other two houses were unwilling to relinquish the grail that the Von Einzbern saw as their birthright. For the Von Einzbern, who had sacrificed their greatest magus for the sake of the grail, this was base betrayal. And so began the Holy Grail wars.
The Von Einzbern twisted rules, broke regulations, wasted no expense to obtain the grail, the symbol that their thousand year struggle was not in vain.
And yet, time, time and time again, the Von Einzbern faltered. Alchemists and Academics, their style of magic was not suited for battle as the grail eluded them time after time.
Desire, dedication fell into fixation—enough that the Von Einzbern would relax their millenia-old creed of exclusivism to induct a professional mercenary into the clan, all for the sake of this Holy Grail.
That they would hire a man despised by other magus for his unorthodox methods and his oriental birth showed the purity Von Einzbern's obsession.
And the symbol of that very obsession now stood in front of Emiya Kiritsugu and Ilyasviel von Einzbern.
Jubstacheit von Einzbern, the eighth head of the Von Einzberns, had been alive since the second Heaven's Feel, and it seemed he had taken each defeat personally.
Appearancewise, his features resembled those of the homunculus he created—behind his pointed locks of white hair, white beard and sharpened features lay two eyes that almost glowed with a passion, a passion that burned stronger than anything that the old man's nearly two hundred year old body could possibly hold.
Kiritsugu had seen these eyes before. He had seen them in the eyes of suicide bombers, of mass murderers, of madmen. Of individuals who would go any distance, break any rules to reach their objectives.
Yet the voice with which he spoke showed none of that enthusiasm. If anyone's voice could freeze water, it was Jubstacheit von Einzbern's.
"The catalyst I have requested has arrived from Cornwall at last." The Von Einzbern never spared any expense or effort to ensure that their master was in a position to win the grail war, and this was no exception. Only the Einzbern would have the resources and political sway to facilitate an excavation of a national historical site for the sake of a catalyst that may or may not have existed.
The catalyst, in question, lay in a large wooden rosewood container laid on the altar.
"With this Catalyst, even you will be able to summon none other than the most powerful of the Saber-class, the strongest of the servants." The "even" almost sounded accidental, but Kiritsugu had never missed the slight hint of contempt and condemnation in Jubstacheit's voice. Jubstacheit may have allowed him into the Einzbern, but he had yet to accept him.
"I am honored, dear head of the family" Kiritsugu responded without expression. He remained acutely aware of the markings on his palm that confirmed his status as a master.
"Irisviel, is the grail vessel prepared?"
Irisviel responded instantly. "Yes. The grail should function without a hitch."
Since the first war, the Von Einzberns have always been tasked with providing the vessel into which the holy grail is materialized. As the guardian of the vessel, Irisviel would have to be present on the field of battle in Fuyuki.
"Kill all six servants, and all the masters as well if necessary. Obtain the Grail, and bring back the Third Magic, Heaven's Feel. "
The glow in Jubstacheit's eyes were like embers as he spoke, and even his icy expression began to crack.
"Emiya Kiritsugu, I have given you the strongest servant of the strongest class, and all the resources of the Von Einzbern House. You cannot fail. You may not fail!"
"Yes, sir!"
Confronted with this burning, near-religious fervor, Irisviel and Kiritsugu answered simultaneously, without a single note of hesitation.
In his heart, though, Kiritsugu felt a note of contempt. This man had long since lost his reason and his faculties—he was no different from a political or religious extremist whose whole life goal was one objective—the reanimation of the Third Magic via the completion of the grail. This man cared nothing about what followed or what happened to the grail. Kiritsugu didn't mind fulfilling this man's burning wish.
But he had his own wish.
And, when he fought, it would not be for the sake of this mad old man.
"The Legendary King Arthur, huh…"
In their own chamber, Irisviel and Kiritsugu looked at the sealed rosewood box with trepidation. Nervously, Irisviel pried open the cover.
Even Kiritsugu, who had seen many a strange thing in his life, gaped. "This is over a thousand years old?"
The catalyst that would summon King Arthur—the sheath of the sword Excalibur.
Bathed in the soft light of the chandeliers, the scabbard glowed with a golden aura. Primarily blue but decorated with gold enamel, the scabbard looked less like a thousand year artifact than something in a jewelry shop. The words of an unknown language inscribed on the sheath bore not a scratch, and the enamel looked as if it was still hot from the furnace.
"A sheath that is supposed to heal all wounds and prevent aging of the owner, according to the legend," Irisviel observed. "I suppose it'd be a little hypocritical if it suffered from age while conferring immortality."
The scabbard looked more beautiful than anything Kiritsugu had yet seen—and yet, something about its dazzling beauty repelled him.
His dissatisfaction must have showed on his face, for Irisviel's face clouded with concern.
"Are you not happy with the Old Man's gift?"
Kiritsugu shook his head. "No, not at all. I'm eternally grateful of all the effort he put into finding this artifact. And I have no doubt that the servant that this catalyst summons will be the mightiest of the Saber class."
Irisviel's smile conveyed all the pride she felt in her husband. "You will have the strongest of servants."
Kiritsugu, though, did not share the sentiment. "…But this servant is incompatible with me."
Normally, a servant that is summoned naturally will have a natural compatibility with his master in terms of personality and temperament. A catalyst, though, overrides this and summons the servant it is attached to, regardless of affinity.
For Kiritsugu, a professional assassin who operated in the shadows, the glorious king of knights could not possibly be willing to share his ideals of stealth and efficiency.
For Emiya Kiritsugu is not a splendid magus. His abilities are only mediocre, his magic circuits limited. In a fair fight, he would have been defeated by half of his targets. Emiya Kiritsugu cannot win in a direct confrontation.
Perhaps that was what repulsed him too in the catalyst—as beautiful as that gilt scabbard could be, he would much prefer the dull, smooth simplicity of a good sniper rifle.
"If I wanted a servant, I would have preferred assassin or caster, somebody who knows the art of subterfuge," Kiritsugu muttered. Now, he would need to formulate a strategy that would allow both he and his servant to use their abilities to the utmost.
His worries were interrupted by a sound that, in this medieval castle, seemed as outlandish as a white supremacist at a black panthers meeting.
The electronic beep of a laptop.
The older the magus lineage, the more they are resistant to modern innovations.
The Von Einzbern, who had stood tall for millennia, had thrown a fit when Emiya Kiritsugu had suggested the installation of an Electric generator.
But here it was, a symbol of the modern world that lived on outside the bounded field that hid the Von Einzbern castle from the casual mountaineer or Britannian Tourist.
"Ah, the report."
Kiritsugu walked over to the laptop and began typing as Irisviel looked on with interest. The encryption network, Kiritsugu noted, was fine. On the other hand, it usually was—few people knew that there was internet service in the middle of a German forest.
But Kiritsugu, who had long lived as an assassin, wasn't about to take any chances. Many of his former targets had given themselves away because they didn't bother defending their data.
Opening a browser, Kiritsugu scrolled through a series of webpages—photocopied documents, online articles, sometimes just raw HTML plundered from some server, each filed under a name.
Kiritsugu began cycling through picture files that ranged from blurry old pictures to detailed printouts.
"These are…?"
"Our opponents."
If you knew neither yourself nor your enemy, Sun Tzu once said, you cannot hope to win. Know yourself but know not your enemy, and your victories will be even. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you need not fear a thousand battles.
The first file was on Tohsaka Tokiomi.
Head of the Tohsaka house, one of the main founding families. A specialist in the use of flames and jewels, as per Tohsaka family tradition. A traditional magus.
A little thorny, but Kiritsugu had fought many magus before. It was the most orthodox of magi that were the easiest to kill.
The next picture and file was on a young Asian woman in her twenties. Irisviel scrutinized the picture. "She looks kind of young…"
Kiritsugu nodded. "Guan Tziling, a Chinese magus from the Imperial Guard."
"From the Chinese system[2]?" Chinese and Japanese magus did not often associate with the western Magus Association—the fact that this woman would involve herself in a battle that went by Western rules was unusual.
"Well, an unorthodox opponent…but I don't think she'll be too large of a problem. She's barely an adult, not really a powerful enemy."
Next up was Lord Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi. One of the greatest lecturers at clock tower, from the illustrious El-Melloi house. It seems as if he had some troubles obtaining a catalyst, but he was still a confirmed master. A worrisome opponent.
There was no data from the Matou family—not a big surprise. The Matou's bloodline had weakened since the first war, and at this time, it was likely that that vampire of an old man, Zouken, was the only one still capable of any magecraft. A wildcard would be present, then.
And there was a member of the holy church, a Kirei Kotomine. Son of the supervisor, he was once an Executor, a magus hunter of the Holy Church. He then transferred to the assembly of the 8th sacrament and then the magus association under the tutelage of Tohsaka Tokiomi, breaking all ties with his old master when the command seals materialized. An indecisive man?
But, as Kiritsugu read on, his eyes narrowed.
Irisviel, who had not been privy to Kiritsugu's thoughts, was suddenly aware that Kiritsugu's bored expression had tensed up.
"Is there something wrong?"
"This Kotomine…"
Irisview leaned over and did her best to read the LCD monitor. The screen felt way too bright and burned the eyes of a woman who was unused to seeing text not on paper, but she didn't complain.
"He graduated secondary school two years early and graduated from the Theological College of Manresa St. Ignacio with Top Honors…seems like a prodigy."
Kiritsugu nodded grimly.
"His professors said that he could well have ended up as an archbishop, maybe a cardinal, with the faith that he had. But instead, he abandoned that future and instead joined the Church's…other bodies."
"Well, he could be a devoted son. Isn't his father a member of the Assembly of the 8th Sacrament?"
Kiritsugu shook his head.
"Then he would have joined the assembly instantly. He did end up in his father's department eventually, but not before going tough three different departments and serving a stint as an Executor."
With 1 billion members, the Roman Catholic Church is probably the largest member of the many bodies that fall under the umbrella term of the Holy Church. It is not, by any means, the only body.
When you talk about the Holy Trinity of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, preachers prefer to emphasize the mercy of Jesus Christ, the son, and the grace of the Holy Spirit, the portion of god that lives inside every Christian. Those are the values espoused by the Roman Catholic Church.
But Christians are apt to forget the existence of the Father, the God of the Old Testament.
The god that struck down the firstborn of all of Egypt and ordered the Israelites to perform a genocidal extermination of all the original inhabitants of the promised land.
The Jealous god, the avenging god, the god whose wrath against evil is unquenchable.
For good to prosper, what is evil must be purged.
For the average Christian to enjoy the grace and mercy of god, those who threaten that grace and mercy must be exterminated.
That is the rationale behind the Executors.
Executors are not exorcists.
They do not protect what is good, separating the demon from the afflicted innocent.
Instead, their job is to exterminate what is "evil."
Being an Executor means going through years of brutal training, designed to sculpt an immovable faith and an immovable body.
Being an Executor means dirtying your hands so that the 2.2 billion Christians of the world can live with a clean conscience.
Being an Executor means that many of your targets are humans—humans who threaten the safety of the Lord's flock, but humans nonetheless.
Being an Executor means being a murderer.
For a young man who hasn't hit 20 to be an Executor, he has already passed the benchmark of serial killer.
"Maybe he's a religious extremist, like those men you were working with in the Middle East. At a certain level of faith, you'd be willing to blow yourself up in crowded streets for your god."
"I don't think that's it either. From the report given to the association, Kirei Kotomine has been learning Spiritual Healing, Alchemy, Evocation, summoning, divination—all branches of magecraft that are detestable in the eyes of the Christian god. And he's good at it too—he has a talent for healing magecraft that even exceed Tokiomi's level of skill. What's with this rapid level of development? What's motivating him to work this hard?"
Irisviel frowned. "Well, this Kotomine is a little weird…but he doesn't seem any more talented than anyone else, especially comparing your other enemies…"
"That's the problem," Kiritsugu remarked with a sigh. "He's no more talented than any other man—but he always grinds through with pure effort. In everything he does, he works as if it were his life goal—and when he's just about to reach the very top, he simply throws everything away and starts anew, never looking back."
Kiritsugu frowned.
"He has no close friends, no confidantes. This man is searching. He's searching with all his might. He'll believe anything as long as it helps him find it, and because of that he believes in nothing. He's searching for something, and he's never found it. This kind of man only knows failure, despair, anger. He's easily my most dangerous opponent."
"Dangerous?" Irisviel looked at the face on the LCD screen once more. When Emiya Kiritsugu says somebody is a thorny or troublesome opponent, he may find them dangerous, but he has already devised a plan and figured out the odds of success. When Emiya Kiritsugu calls somebody dangerous, he is a threat, somebody who needs to be fought at full power.
"This Executor is more dangerous than great and powerful magus like Tokiomi and Archibald?"
Kiritsugu nodded. "To defeat an enemy, you must know how they think. I know how magus think, especially noble ones such as Archibald. I know their fears, their perceived threats, what they rate above or below them. I know how religious extremists think—I know how to exploit their pieties, their faith, their superstitions. But this empty man—I do not understand him at all. Kotomine Kirei's way of life is empty, without direction—so why does a man this lost require a grail that grants wishes?"
"Perhaps it's the Church's decision. He is with the Assembly of the 8th sacrament, tasked with retrieving sacred artifacts…"
Kiritsugu shook his head grimly. "The Holy Grail doesn't just hand out wishes to anyone—it looks for people who truly desire it. He has a motivation, a motivation I cannot understand at all. If we let a man like this reach the grail…who knows what will come out of his rage and despair?"
"It won't happen." Leaning over Kiritsugu's chair, Irisviel wrapped her arms around his neck.
"This grail within me is only for you, Emiya Kiritsugu. I won't allow anyone except you to touch it."
As much as Irisviel's devotion touched him, though, it pained him. Because he knew the future that awaited both of them.
But he would not run away—he couldn't. Not when Iri was walking with him. Not when they shared that dream.
The elders of the Von Einzbern merely wanted the completion of the grail, the realization of the Third Magic. But the couple that would go to war on them had their own wishes, their own desires to pour into the Holy Grail.
Getting up out of his chair with a tired shrug, Kiritsugu wrapped his own arms around Irisviel silently as he tried to kill the pain in his chest.
A moment, a minute, an hour, an eternity later, they let go.
"C'mon, let's check on Ilya."
The halls of the Einzbern castle were silent. Outside, snow cascaded across the ground and caked on the windows as Irisviel and Kiritsugu walked past.
Surrounded by plush dolls, Ilya was, of course, asleep in her four-poster bed.
Having slipped out of her covers, she had curled herself into a ball. With each breath, her locks of white, nearly translucent hair rustled ever so slightly.
Kiritsugu sighed with a smile as he lifted his daughter up and spread her back over the bed. With a finger over her mouth, Irisviel gently laid the covers back over their daughter.
Kiritsugu smiled as he looked down at his daughter.
She's so light—so fragile.
Irisviel smiled softly as they silently closed the door. "She really is your Edelweiss, isn't she?"
"Iri, I know we're not going to fail now."
"And why is that?"
Kiritsugu smiled. "Because Ilya is waiting for us."
Footnotes and References
[1] Edelweiss, Leontopodium alpinum, is a hardy rocky flower that only grows in certain areas 2000–2900 m above sea level. It is a symbol used in many cases to represent the Alpine countries (Switzerland, Germany, Austria), though it doesn't only grow in the alps
[2] Chinese Magecraft – not technically magecraft, but in the Nasuverse, the Chinese system includes Taoism, Japanese Onmyōdō, Shintoism and eastern medicine.
-Afterword, Q&A-
Well, I was a little disappointed with the lack of reviews, even as the story traffic remained fairly robust. I'd first like to thank Angry Santo and Xoroth for taking time to write reviews. As people who are really "putting out" with my writing, I do feel encouraged when people review the story, even if the review is negative-it shows people care about it enough to write about it. So, if you have time, do take it to post your views and feelings!
AngrySanto - Thanks, once again, for covering my ass with these grammar errors. I'm not the most meticulous proofreader, and HeavyValor has also pointed out my tendency to overcapitalize things. I'm glad you enjoyed the Pearl Harbor crack, and I'm even happier you enjoyed the chapter :D. On the topic of Waver's catalyst, I will confirm that the King of Conquerors is no longer the servant. In fact, this was a really last-minute decision (the Caster intended for Nightmare Apatheia was transferred over). To be honest, I really, really like Rider, but with four of the servants from fate/zero already reappearing, it'd be very difficult to really reimagine the plot when five of the servants are exactly the same. However, I can guarantee you that in power, Waver's servant will not lose to Iskander. Moreover, Kiritsugu's analysis of the masters and their identities are not completely correct either. Do look forwards to it!
Xoroth - To you, too, I thank for the correction on the Barthomeloi. For some reason, my mind always went "Bartholomew" when I saw the Barthomeloi, so I interpreted it as the Bartolomei. As you can tell from these two chapters, Kariya will not be the master of the Matous-but Berserker will appear as planned, for the same reason as how you feel-because a servant making a knightmare into a noble phantasm, even at a D-rank, is goddamn badass. Waver's servant will not disappoint either-in terms of fame, he may actually exceed even Fate/Zero's Rider. I hope you continue looking forwards to it!