[A/N: Hi! This is a second run at Fate/Pale Reflection, a fanfiction of mine from 2020 that was unfortunately discontinued due to life getting in the way. I'm back, and we'll be starting all the way from the start, with each chapter being rewritten to reflect my current writing standards until we break into the new content. For now, you can sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!]

"What do you mean I can't participate?!"

Charles Yaranes III of the Fourth Yaranes clan, a relatively small magus family, was not having a very good day.
Not only had he learned that his younger brother, James, had been chosen to receive the family Crest, the culmination of the Yaranes clan's generations of magical knowledge, but James had also been chosen to participate in the Holy Grail War that the Magus Association was hosting.

He felt afraid to raise his voice against his parents, who looked almost regal even when they were doing something as simple as eating lunch, but for once, his anger smothered his concessions.

"It's not fair! You've told me for years that I was born to do this! It's… It's my birthright!"

As usual, his father, Charles II, was impossible to read.

"I've made my decision. Times are changing, Charlie. The power that I took for granted in my youth is fading from the world, and to hold onto it, it needs fighters. You're a magecraft prodigy, it's true, but you know you're not a fighter like your brother. You won't go to all lengths necessary to preserve that Crest and what it means to the world."

With nowhere else to turn, Charles turned to his mother.

"Mother, please! Talk some reason into him!"

His mother, Irene Yarenes, looked young enough to be Charles' sister, though he knew full well that despite how young they looked, both of his parents were far older than even most of his magical tutors growing up.

"Your father is right, Charlie," she said gently, taking his hand in hers.
"Besides, the Holy Grail War is dangerous- I couldn't bear sending you to fight when you have so little fighting experience."

The pain that Charles felt in his gut twisted in him like a dagger. So this was what betrayal felt like.

"This isn't up for debate, Charlie," his father said. "The family Magic Crest, everything I have, has already been transferred to James, and he's taken the Catalyst necessary to summon the Saber-class Servant. With the Class' natural statistical advantage, and the increase in power it will attain by being in Britain, they'll almost certainly be the most powerful Servant in the War. He'll return within the month victorious, and we just might save magecraft worldwide. We can talk about who will keep the Crest in the long-term then."

Charles III spoke with a tone of finality. His mind was made up. Charles turned, his fist clenched.

"Understood, father," he choked out, leaving the two to their lunch.

In his workshop, Charles seethed in silence. He had already made up his own mind- he was going to participate in the Grail War and win it for his family, Crest be damned.

No- he was going to win it for himself, family be damned.

James was a good brother, but he was still Charles' junior, and the notion that he would be in any way their father's magus of choice had him seeing red. His angry, sweeping strides had him knocking over a stool by accident, and that only made him madder.

'Screw the Crest. I'll get by myself. I'll use the Grail to make myself a stupid Crest.'

Though.. He didn't have a solid idea of how it could be possible.

He looked around his Workshop, searching for any source of inspiration. Half finished golems, bubbling alchemical experiments, a half-incinerated mannequin.. His relatively short lifetime's worth of experience in magecraft. In the moment, none of it seemed particularly useful or thought-provoking.

"Ah. Calpurnia!" he called.

One of the golems on the wall shook and melted into mud, pooling in front of him before it transformed into an approximation of a Victorian-era maid. Her eyes trained on the ground at his feet, she curtsied elegantly. Despite its appearance, the maid was in fact an extremely powerful Mystic Code, first taken from another magus family by his mother as the spoils of a previous conflict and then passed down to him.
Traces of its mud permeated the walls of the Yaranes household, allowing it to be summoned anywhere on the premises in a matter of moments, but its main mass resided in Charles' Workshop. Once an extremely powerful utility for storing the Yaranes family's alchemy secrets, it had technically been obsoleted already by a common computer hard drive.

"Yes, Master Charlie?" she asked in a monotone, almost vibrating voice.

"I told you, it's Charles!" the young mage snapped. "And… help me think, would you?"

"I'll do my best, though I'm more immediately useful as an interface of knowledge as opposed to a repository of wisdom, Master Charlie," Calpurnia replied.

"What do you know about the circumstances surrounding the upcoming Holy Grail War, Calpurnia?" Charles asked.

The mud maid paused for a moment, as if thinking.

"The Holy Grail War," she eventually started.

"A ritual initially designed by the families Tohsaka, Einzbern and Matou to serve as a means of reaching the hypothetical Root of existence, the goal of all magi. The Fuyuki Holy Grail was dismantled twenty years ago by the Mage's Association. Due to the decline of mana in the atmosphere, the Mage's Association is currently trying to recreate it in order to reinvigorate the World's magical ley lines. Seven Servants, each corresponding to the seven Classes, will be summoned by Seven Masters and defeated to fill the Holy Grail, an omnipotent wish-granting pool of magical energy."

Charles snapped his fingers.

"Good, Father's kept you up to date. Therefore, if I wanted to win, what would be my greatest chance of success?"

The mud maid cocked her head, as if confused.

"Your brother, James Anton Yarenes, is the Yarenes Clan's representative in the upcoming Holy Grail War."

"Irrelevant to the question, Calpurnia. What would be my greatest chance of success?"

Calpurnia's eyes turned blanker than usual, and then returned to normal after a moment of "loading.'

"Your greatest chance of success would be to summon a Saber Class Servant, the strongest recorded Class Container barring the Berserker Class. Berserker has higher potential for combat parameters, but would run the Master considerable more risk. "

"Calpurnia, which Saber Class Servant exactly will my brother attempt to summon?"

Calpurnia's response was immediate.

"Security clearance level beta or higher required."

"Hm." Charles thought for a moment. "Calpurnia, what Catalyst did my brother take?"

"The artifact did not originally belong to the house, so the specific item is not within my knowledge, but it is in my understanding that he was provided with an artifact from Arthurian myth."

"Calpurnia, do we have any other artifacts of similar origin?"

Calpurnia's response was, again, instant. "Negative."

Charles sighed, burying his face in his hands.

"Think, Charles, think," he mumbled to himself. "How the hell do you beat a Saber-class Servant from King Arthur's court in Britain of all places? Knowing my brother, he'll be able to summon Mordred, or Galahad. Maybe even King Arthur himself."

"Permission to provide a suggestion, Master Charlie?" Calpurnia eventually asked.

"Granted," Charles said, exasperated.

"Only one of each Class of Servant can be summoned in a single Holy Grail War. Therefore, if one were to summon a Saber first, there would be no Saber-class Servant to defeat."

Charles stared at the maid for five seconds straight. "Calpurnia, you genius. I could kiss you."

"Not advised, Master Charlie. My surface area is extremely toxic to organic lifeforms," she said solemnly.

"Noted. I still need to go for a home turf advantage if I want the Servant to be strong, but.. England, England.. If I wanted a Knight of Round I could try, but it'd be random.. Calpurnia, do we have any suitable catalysts for an English Hero?"

Calpurnia went silent for a moment, and then the space in front of her shimmered, and an old-looking leather bag appeared, which she offered up to him. Maybe a computer hard drive couldn't do that.

"The personal effects of the pirate captain Edward Teach, otherwise known as Blackbeard. Most common Class: Rider. Likelihood of successful summon as Class Saber: 30%."

Charles shook his head.

"Next."

The bag was replaced with a single white feather.

"Feather of the Phantasmal Beast Hippogriff owned by knight Astolfo. Most common Class: Rider. Likelihood of successful summon as Class Saber with current Catalyst: 10%."

Charles stroked his chin.

"We're getting warmer. Any others?"

Calpurnia fell silent one more time before she exchanged the feather with a rolled up sheet of blueprints.

"Blueprints authored by Victor Frankenstein to design his Monster. Acquired by the Magus Association upon the liquidation of Ygddmilennia Clan assets in 1860. Most common class: Berserker. Likelihood of successful summon as Class Saber with extra conditions: 95%. Without: 0%."

"Extra conditions?" Charles asked.

"With suitable modifications to the subject's Saint Graph, the 'Frankenstein's Monster' can be changed from an abomination that wields a mace into an abomination that wields a sword. Modifications will have to be made to the summoning catalyst to include the update."

"Projected parameters?"

Calpurnia processed the question.

"Cross-referencing twelve Holy Grail Wars and Servants recorded… Projecting parameters…"

Calpurnia's mouth shot open and a beam of light projected a stat page onto a nearby surface. It wasn't the most elegant way to display the prowess of a mythical figure of legend, but it was functional enough.

SERVANT: FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER

PROJECTED CLASS: SABER

STR - B+

END - B

AGI - C

MAN - B

LUK - A+

NP - ?

MAG. RESIST. - C

RIDING - NULL

MAD ENHANCE. - D+

Charles scratched his head. "And this is my best shot at Saber?" he asked.

Calpurnia nodded. "Statistically, yes."

"Well, then." Charles clasped his hands together. "Let's go summon us a monster."