I do not own Mushoku Tensei nor anything by Type-Moon, including Fate.

This work was commissioned by Anon.

FATE/ Lost Post

Chapter 3

I awoke on my bed disorientated and heavy.

My eyelids peeled back to show the room cast in the warm rays of morning light as I pushed the sheets off my body. My mouth was terribly dry, and my throat felt somewhat scratchy; looking to the side, I spotted a pitcher and a cup on my table.

I slide out of bed, eager to parch my thirst, taking note that the cup is already full.

Appreciative of the kindness, I hurriedly down the water, having to stand atop the chair to pour another cup, which followed the first swiftly.

With my thirst quenched, I look around my room as I try to organise my thoughts, somewhat anxious as I do not recall going to bed.

Then I spot a groove cut into one of my floorboards, and my stomach drops.

Flashes, disorientating and obscure flash before my eyes rapidly and in such a manner as to do little more than confuse me. Some are so impactful I am forced to clutch the table so as not to tumble from my place atop the chair.

One thing stays with me, though.

A name.

Archer.

With it comes a sense of belonging that feels bittersweet. I have come to be attached to the name Rudeus Greyrat and have found a place with my family, but… it is nice to know something about who I once was.

I slump in the chair and hold my water tightly in my small grasp, my tongue darting to wet my still-dry lips.

My plan to subtly take Paul's sword had not succeeded as I had hoped. I had, of course, been aware that there was a risk of me experiencing a similar sensation as I had when watching the weapon in motion, but…

I hadn't cared.

Something about the weapon had drawn me in, and I had acted like the child I am and rushed head-first into a situation I could have avoided with more planning.

So much for the wisdom I thought myself to have.

The memory of my family's worried and fearful faces played havoc on my emotions and only increased my frustration.

"Stupid," I grunted, the admonishment directed inward.

Finishing my water, I placed the cup atop the table and hurried to get dressed. As much as I may want to hide in my room, it would serve me better to see the extent of whatever damage I may have caused.

I could only hope that some concern was the extent of things… otherwise, I may need to begin planning for some rather radical changes.

The house was quiet; it was early in the morning, and there was a chance both my parents were out, but it seemed doubtful my luck would be so advantageous. Reaching the ground floor, I finally heard hints of a conversation, my legs stilling beneath me as I began to listen.

"… And did you see his eyes! His eyes were green yesterday, Zenith! Now they look nothing like his!" Paul whisper-shouted, his voice emanating from the kitchen where I assumed he and my mother were talking.

One of my hands came up unbidden and traced underneath my eye, concern on my face as images of a face with eyes the shade of steel flickered through my mind.

"I saw Paul, but I don't know why they changed," Zenith snapped back, "I tried to heal him until I collapsed, but nothing I tried worked."

"I know! I just… I don't understand what happened…" Paul finished weakly.

The soft sounds of cutlery scraping clued me into the fact that they were eating their breakfast.

I wonder where Lilia is?

"Young master?"

Dammit.

Turning around, I found Lilia looking at me with a scrutinising gaze, her violet orbs meeting my now-grey ones with an unreadable expression, though her face did seem to twitch… it was so quick I might just be seeing things.

"G-good morning, Lilia," I stuttered, kicking myself for letting my nerves affect my voice. I kept my voice low as I still wasn't ready to confront my parents yet and noted that Lilia did the same.

"Morning… why are you lurking over here?"

I flinched at her tone, her words coming out much more severely than I was used to. Lilia's tone was usually soft and placid; I was not used to her speaking in such a curt manner.

"… They're fighting," I mumbled, pointing a finger over my shoulder towards where my parents were eating. "I… I know they're upset because of me."

At this, Lilia's expression softened, and I noticed a tenseness in her shoulders disappear as her form relaxed. Lilia crouched so that she was at eye level with me, her hand coming out to rest on my small shoulder as she looked me over.

"… Are you alright?"

I must have looked stunned, her brow rising as I failed to respond immediately.

"I… I feel all right," I replied, taking a moment to consider the question.

Lilia looked like she would smile for the briefest of moments, but instead, she nodded and rose to stand again.

I did not expect that to make my chest feel tight, but it did; it would seem the previous day's events affected her more than I had imagined.

Lilia quickly ushered me towards the dining table, her tall form cutting off my retreat as I became the centre of attention. The difference in the many reactions was staggering and varied from person to person. Each caused me concern, though in different ways.

Paul's face was the sternest; his brow stuck in a conflicted furrow, his eyes green as mine used to be peered down at me intently. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked to be on the verge of saying something, but no words came to pass.

Zenith appeared as if she was on the brink of tears; she looked moments from rushing forward and cradling me in her arms. Her eyes darted about, looking me over for any injury or ailment, but much like Lilia, I saw her pay extra attention towards my eyes. She also showed restraint and hesitance, her hands curling around the back of her chair.

Lilia though…

"I will get you some breakfast, young master," Lilia proclaimed, donning her business-like mannerisms as she moved to the kitchen bench.

I could only blink as she glided past me, abandoning me to my parents.

"Rudeus," Paul spoke up first, his eyes flicking to Zenith for a second before he spoke a gain, "Come sit."

I was quick to obey. I moved to my mother's side and paid her a smile for pushing out my chair so I could climb into it easier. She returned my smile with one of her own, but it was not like the usual smiles she gave me.

This only worsened my growing anxiety.

Before exchanging words, a plate was placed in front of me. It was nothing more than sliced bread and cheese, but it made my mouth water. Remembering that I had collapsed before eating dinner the day before, I looked up at Lilia and thanked her earnestly.

"You are welcome…" Lilia spoke, her tone still the same, but rather than move away, I saw her pretty purple eyes look me over. When our eyes met, I saw her brow furrow for the briefest of seconds and realised the reaction was to my eyes.

"… If you are still hungry, let me know. It is best that you try something light first, Master Rudeus," Lilia spoke. This time, her tone was warmer, and I would be lying if I said it didn't warm my chest.

Lilia was practically my second mother… I did not like the idea of her acting distant from me.

I was quick to nod before digging in, the food disappearing swiftly as I did my best to abate my now ravenous hunger. I was a growing boy, and missing a meal was not a pleasant experience.

I nearly choked when Paul spoke up.

"Rudeus," again my name passed through his lips, the tone severe enough to make me pause with my mouth full. I quickly looked at the man, my eyes finding his and much like Lilia's, his expression shifted.

"I want you to tell us what happened," Paul instructed, his voice hard.

I finished chewing my food, swallowing loudly as I sat back in my seat and glanced at the room occupants. Paul was not the only one curious; he was just the only one willing to voice it.

What do I say? Do I explain to them that I have memories from another world, another life, that I don't know what is happening, but I know things? That I can recall…

I wince as a vision of a massacre flashed through my mind, bodies impaled upon arrows, some with such force as to be pinned to walls or riddled with shafts.

I swallow again if only to keep the bile down.

"Rudeus?" Zenith whispered, her hand coming to rest on my back.

I look to my mother and let myself take comfort in her presence, her warmth and kindness reaching me despite her worry.

"… I don't know," I answer Paul. My father doesn't care for this answer, his face twisting as he purses his lips.

"Perhaps," Lilia speaks up, taking her seat at the table, her hands crossed one over the other. "It might be to our benefit if we have the young master recount the events as he himself recalls them?"

Zenith is quick to agree, "Good idea, Lilia. Rudy, I need you to tell us everything you remember before passing out, okay?"

I agree with a nod, sipping at my water as I think of what to say.

"I wanted to look at your sword," I admit to my father, that man's head tilting at my words, a single brow rising.

"Go on," Paul encouraged, steepling his fingers.

"I went to pick up your clothes to help Lilia as she had already left for her bath, and I saw your sword there… I wanted to look at it so badly," I began lowering my eyes as I recounted the events.

"It looked so awesome I just… I wanted to check it out. So while you were busy in the bath with mum, I dragged it upstairs," I continued, glancing back up to see the reactions of everyone at the table.

Both Paul and Zenith were sharing a knowing look, Zenith's face being slightly flushed. They must have been 'busy' in more ways than one. Lilia still seemed focused on me, but I noticed her gaze darting at my parents.

Before I could continue to speak, Lilia came to a realisation, voicing her thoughts, "The thumping was you! I thought your parents-" Lilia cut herself off, looking away with red creeping onto her cheeks.

I knew exactly what thought had just come to her mind; if I had to describe Paul and Zenith as a couple, 'affectionate' would be the only polite term I could put forth.

Perhaps 'enthusiastic' would also work…

"Yeah, the sword was heavier than I thought, so I kinda had to drag it to get it to my room," I nodded.

"Then what happened?" Zenith asked, leaning forward, her face scrunched up as if confused. Clearly, she was looking for something in my retelling that I had yet to mention.

"Well, I pulled the sword from its sheath. It was tricky 'cause it's long, but then I saw it up close, and it was cool!" I didn't need to fake my enthusiasm; Paul's sword was a work of art.

"And then?" Paul urged, though he did so with a slight smile.

"Well, then I lifted your sword, but I got dizzy, and the whole room seemed to tilt and then… then I don't know," I shrugged.

It was hardly a lie; the things I had seen had been madness, little more than a storm of images and ideas that, at the time, were more a chaotic spew of thoughts than anything else. I was already aware that this was not my first life, but the knowledge, broken and warped as it had been, nearly overwhelmed me.

"… You don't know?" Lilia spoke up, seeing the confusion on both Paul and Zenith's faces.

"Yeah. Next thing I know, I am waking up, and my eyes hurt, but I think that was just your magic being bright," I finish sitting back in my seat, watching the three of them expectantly.

"That's-… that's all?" Paul mumbled, his sentence coming out forced and conflicted.

"Yeah… I'm sorry…"

"Rudy, do you even… no, I suppose you wouldn't," Zenith muttered, rising from her seat, her head turning to look at a silvery wall ornament. Without uttering a word, she strode to the decoration and plucked it from the wall. Lilia seemed to realise what she was doing as she gave me a knowing look.

My mother knelt before me, the ornament clasped tightly in her hands. So tightly, in fact, that her knuckles were turning white, and I feared the metal might warp if she did not relent.

"Rudy… are you sure that is everything you recall?" Zenith asked, not in an interrogative manner but rather an assuring one.

I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak.

I do not enjoy lying.

That I was doing so to my mother stung all the worse.

"Was there… do you maybe recall a noise or a sensation of some type… a feeling perhaps?"

I blinked, "No, sorry, I don't think so."

Zenith's expression tightened as she looked at the other two adults, the three of them sharing some kind of unspoken conversation. Whatever their meaningful looks meant, my mother let out a prolonged exhale.

"Rudy, sweetheart, I am going to show you something, all right? It might be startling, but I need you to be brave and stay calm for me, okay?" Zenith coached gently as she adjusted her grip on the silvery ornament, raising the reflective surface until it levelled with my head.

"Oh!"

My surprise was authentic.

I could recall, somewhat, my old appearance. Not as an outright image but more like blurry traits that were points of emphasis on the blurry vision of who I once was.

One of those traits was my eyes, the metallic shade of grey, like steel.

Since my rebirth, I had grown used to seeing my eyes the same shade of green as my father's, but they were most assuredly not green anymore.

"They look… cold," I breathed, my small fingers tracing the ridge of my brow on my reflection.

Zenith reacted to my words, lowering the ornament, her face marred by worry as she looked at me, oozing concern. I suddenly felt quite guilty for my words as I had no wish to worry my poor mother more than I already had.

But it was probably best I used this opportunity to avoid being caught off guard later.

"… Do eyes often change colour?" I asked Zenith, a small part of me perhaps hoping this was not an entirely unique occurrence.

"No," Paul answered swiftly from behind.

"No, Rudy, they don't…" my mother said worriedly, placing the ornament on the table before pulling me into her arms.

"Oh," I didn't know what else to say, so I said nothing.

I wish I could say everything returned to normal after this, and my family recovered from this little hiccup.

That would have been nice.

Zenith would come to worry after me for a significant while following this, her eyes more often than not tracing my movements. In some ways, it was stifling, but I did not rebel against the attention; instead, I sought to use it.

I took advantage of my mother's increased attention to show her I was healthy and happy. When she would gaze at me worriedly, I would smile back; when she hovered nearby, I would approach her and ask her to read to me.

I don't know when it happened, but at some point Zenith relaxed. I am sure her worry was still there, but my efforts to reassure her had paid dividends. Eventually, it sunk in that I was perfectly fine and healthy, and the change of my eyes became just another part of my appearance.

I was still her son.

While I was still occasionally caught in her observations, I figured such attention was acceptable and expected. After all, I am her child, and I did give her a rather nasty scare.

Paul amusingly followed much the same trend as Zenith, his own return to normalcy happening almost directly after Zenith's own. I suppose there was something to be said for that, Paul only relaxing once his wife did.

Much like Zenith, I still caught him reacting on occasion when our eyes met, my eyes still serving as a point of complicated feelings for the man.

I wonder if it is because he and I used to share the same colour eyes?

Lilia… Lilia was the last to come around.

It felt like we were back to the days of me being a strange baby who didn't cry. She seemed unsure of me, and all our interactions carried a sort of awkward discord. It wasn't malicious, but Lilia and I couldn't seem to communicate like we used to.

Then I realised I was the issue.

I was trying to force the issue when I should let her adjust on her own time.

So I did.

I didn't seek her out, but when we crossed paths, I would greet her and engage in light conversation. I always moved on if I noticed our conversing halt or a hint of her discomfort.

Eventually, I began to ask if I could help her with her work or just outright helping her without asking. It seemed this, more than anything, reassured Lilia. Soon enough, we even managed to talk as we used to, Lilia even referring to me as Rudeus on occasion.

We never did return to normal.

We grew even closer.

Now, she even lets me help her cook, which is excellent. She only lets me help with preparation, and I am not really allowed near the pot or the oven… or any knives, but that's okay.

I have my family…

I wonder… if I ever had a family in my past life.

I suppose it doesn't matter.

Paul, Zenith and Lilia are my family… and I… I think I really like that.

-FATE/Lost Post-

"Lilia?" I spoke up, struck by a sudden bout of curiosity.

"Yes, young master?"

"What are cities like?"

"… Well, they are quite loud," Lilia described after carefully thinking about the matter.

"Are there lots of people?" I, of course, understood there would be, but I was hoping to get an idea of the scale of urbanisation this world possessed. My knowledge of cities from my past life was… interesting; I could recall memories of cities so vast and tall that it was like the entire world was made of steel and glass.

But I could also remember cities of marble and stone, decorated with banners, seemingly much older, and with no steel and glass towers. I chalked this up to the fact that my memories from my life as Archer are scrambled, to say the least.

"Mmhmm, many thousands, even more, if you can believe it, in certain cities," Lilia continued, holding her hand out for me to pass her another peg as she hung up the washing.

"Have you seen many cities?"

"I have travelled through many and even worked for a few years in the capital city of Ars. It was truly a majestic city, though I find myself much preferring Buena village," Lilia replied, shooting me a quick smile.

"That's here, right," I said proudly, remembering what little I knew of local geography; Buena was the village we lived in located in the region of Fittoa, which is part of the Asura Kingdom.

"Yes, it is," Lilia nodded, her soft laughter showing her amusement, "It's quite lovely, wouldn't you say Rudeus?"

I took a moment to look about, rising to my feet to see as much as possible. The bright blue sky, the pristine white clouds, the rolling hills and fields visible from my yard all before the backdrop of the imposing mountains that cut the horizon.

It was all rather beautiful, a much more pleasant site than some places my mind could recall.

A particular rust-coloured hill most of all.

"It's peaceful," I admitted freely.

Lilia seemed to look at me curiously before she nodded, "Yes. Yes, it is," Lilia agreed, taking a moment to enjoy the atmosphere of Buena village.

"Lilia, would you mind helping me get started on dinner?" Zenith called out from the doorway.

"Of course, Lady Zenith," Lilia replied dutifully, quickly hanging up the last sheet before lifting the empty basket.

Then she offered me her hand, which I was quick to grasp. It was nice having the attention of two mothers, both more than doting. Honestly, were I not in possession of more life experience, I would surely turn into a spoiled brat.

My mother quickly scoped me up when I reached the door, "And what were you up to, young man," she asked as she walked back inside with me.

"I was helping Lilia," I explained proudly, though I was just handing her some pegs, but it was all she would let me do.

"Oh, you're so sweet, but you know you don't need to; Lilia is quite capable," Zenith explained.

"Want to," I replied quickly, not leaving the matter up for debate. It felt bizarre to have a maid, and something about it bothered me. "Can I help with dinner," I asked, hoping Zenith would say yes.

"No, you're too young," She replied, making me frown.

"Lady Zenith… I, on occasion, let Master Rudeus assist by stirring or performing some other safe task; he seems to enjoy it truly," Lilia spoke up from the pantry.

Zenith hummed to herself softly, her bright blue eyes looking down at me in her arms.

"Please…" I asked again.

"… Oh, fine, you can help with the peas after we wash your hands," Zenith quickly moved me over to the basin.

I could hardly keep the smile from my face, and I ensured Lilia saw my appreciation. I still do not entirely understand my drive to aid in the cooking and other house chores; what I know of my previous life would indicate little use for such skills. But despite this, I still held a veritable treasure trove of cooking knowledge in my little head.

I couldn't wait until I was older; I would surely impress Lilia and Zenith.

There were still many things I was careful to keep to myself, like my talent concerning reading and mathematics. I had no desire to show off that I already possessed an education, as I was unsure how the information would be received.

But… with all the excitement of my passing out now passed, perhaps it would not hurt to find some way to fill my time.

-FATE/Lost Post-

The age of three is… restrictive.

My parents prefer to keep me indoors or under supervision, which is fair. I can hardly blame them for desiring to keep me safe. I can't even reach the kitchen bench on my own yet… not without clambering up it anyway.

But this left me with a lot of time to fill and waging a near-constant war on boredom.

Idle hands and whatnot.

This led me to pursue a curiosity that had been bothering me for a while.

Magic.

Luckily, my reading skills were now to such a degree that I could read all of our books flawlessly, and since having gained more of my past memories, I have decided it would be worthwhile to take another stab at it.

Reading through it with my new awareness was… enlightening. I now found some of the concepts familiar and even found myself able to make certain connections. For example, when I read through the Magic Manual, it explains different methods of manipulating magic.

These being Incantations and Magic Circles.

After interacting with my father's weapon, I now know what both of these might have entailed in my past life. My only memory of anything resembling a Magic Circle was a red circle that glowed blue; its design is… hazy, but I recall feeling awe when remembering it.

Incantations, however, stir an entirely different set of memories.

The words are jumbled and sound as if spoken beneath water; I have no idea what is being said, only that the words belong to incantations. Also, it is never me speaking them but rather someone else either beside me… or against me.

A hail of arrows soon follows in the later case.

I rub my eyes as I try to refocus on the present, not letting myself get sucked into the rather grim memories of a past I don't yet fully recall.

The book mainly covers magic that is centred on incantations. This leads me to believe it is the preferred method of Magecraft in this world. Luckily, the Manual holds an introductory section that doesn't seem complex and even features beginner spells.

I decided to attempt them almost immediately; magic is a unifying concept across both my lives, and perhaps practising it would allow me to recall even more of the past.

Following the diagram, I slide the book safely off to the side. With only five in the house, something tells me my parents would not be forgiving should I damage any of our precious books.

I glance at the door to check I am not being observed before I get into position.

I am excited to try some magic finally, but I temper myself, knowing it is better not to have any expectations. I chose a water spell called Water Ball as I feel it will have the most easily observable effect without risking harm to myself or the house.

Somehow, I doubt Lilia would enjoy cleaning up a Rock Bullet and fire was out of the question while inside.

I just wasn't sure I could see the effects of an air spell.

I clear my throat before I begin, my eyes darting one last time to the written passage before speaking.

"… Let the great protection of water be on the place thou seekest. I call a refreshing burbling stream here and now. Water Ball."

A sensation of something moving through my body caught me off guard at first, but I quickly concluded it to be the feel of my Mana. If I were to describe it… it was akin to the sensation of drinking ice cold water while dehydrated on a hot day; the sensation of it spreading in your chest… but in reverse.

I felt that flowing sensation from the soles of my feet to the tips of my spread fingers, where it merged.

Then, with eyes wide, I watched as the air condensed into a fine mist of tiny water droplets raining down onto the floor.

"… Well… it's something at least," I thought aloud, smiling at the somewhat success of my first try.

It was nothing like what the spell was supposed to look like, and I am sure if someone were to observe my efforts, they would have no doubt laughed … but I felt proud. I had used magic on my first try.

"Man, if only I could recall some of the incantations from my old world… it would be nice to know what magic I used to use…" I thought aloud, walking over to a spare sheet we kept in this room to dry up the tiny bit of water I conjured.

"Still… it will be cool to show Mum that I can cast spells like she can… should probably wait until she is aware I can read, though," I reasoned, not desiring to startle the poor woman again.

With the water now taken care of, I sat back and flicked back to the page that discussed incantations. The manual had a brief passage covering their origins and how long ago ancient elves entreated with spirits to make use of magic.

It seemed that Modern mages built upon their original efforts to formulate their own spells used today.

"Hmm, that sounds oddly familiar as well," I mused.

I shifted in my seat and flipped back to the page with a brief Magic Circle example.

I pressed my finger to the paper and traced it around the design, my mind wandering as I did, reminiscing what little I recalled of my life when I was Archer. The magic I wielded was so different. It wasn't akin to the elemental combat magic the book discussed or similar to the healing magic my mother used.

My magic… was blades and arrows.

My finger continued to trace.

The flashes whipped through my mind. Fire, bodies, death, destruction. All before my eyes did these terrible sights appear… my eyes of steel.

Yet onwards, my finger continued to trace, the feel of the paper scratching against my fingertip.

My stomach stirred as I recalled more and more flashes, yet none were what I would call pleasant. Bodies, corpses, blood, and death. Strewn around me lay the slain most by arrow, some by blade, yet just as many by any number of means.

My finger traced on and on and on…

The last flash, a rust-coloured hill beneath a tumultuous sky.

"Trace on."

I opened my eyes with a gasp as my magic surged more vigorously than it had before. Where before it had been but a faint sensation, now it was a force that sent sparks through my nerves. Before my eyes, I watched as steel manifested.

I could see it wreathed in pale blue light.

A double-edged long sword with a double triangle-shaped cross guard, a Ricasso that is narrowed to the Fuller and seems to be comprised of a combination of steel, blackened leather and another material I am unfamiliar with.

My hand reaches for it.

But as soon as I make contact with the sword, it bursts into motes of light and an overcome but a wave of exhaustion that leaves me reeling. I flop back onto the sheet and can only watch, startled, as my world darkens.

I struggle to hold on, but my body protests, and my mind slips into the realm of sleep.

My last thought…

'What the hell was that?'