FateLost

by Shadowolf27

OC/Cú Chulainn. A sixth Grail War unfolds in America. A magus aims to defy her legacy and aunt and become an apprentice at the Clock Tower. The condition to enter: win a Grail War. Naomi dives headfirst into the brutal magi world with an Irish Servant in a fate riddled story that once tried to erase her existence. This world will soon meet its end. (Also on AO3 under Shadowolf27).

2. Chapter 2

Notes: This chapter should have been broken up into two or three chapters, but...it wasn't. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

---

The TV flickered as Naomi mindlessly turned a crochet bear over in her fingers and a blanket was draped over her legs.

"Are you sure it's wise to not rest after tonight?" Lancer appeared from spirit form, already leaning over the back of the couch near her head. "You haven't eaten anything, either."

Naomi set the figurine sized bear on the coffee table. "I need to go to the church first thing in the morning to figure out why my files were accessible. There's no point in going to sleep when it's so late." The wall clock ticked just after two in the morning. The truth was she was too wound up to sleep despite how drained she felt.

She threw the blanket back and head into the kitchen. "I guess I should eat."

Frozen tamales clinked on the counter and ice shavings fell on the plate.

Lancer looked curiously over the bar at the bag she tossed back into the freezer. "What the heck is that? It doesn't look appetizing at all."

"Tamales. It tastes better than it looks." If she doused it in hot sauce. "Are you hungry?" she asked out of curtesy.

"I don't have to eat. Your mana is all I need to sustain my body. I'm starting to adjust to it so it's flowing a little better… but I could eat if I wanted to. It does help my strength a bit."

"Do you want something?"

He propped his hip up on the bar stool and scrunched his face. "No offense, but not if it's that frozen rock."

She crossed her arms and leaned forward. "I can cook something. What do you want?" If he thought she was useless in this department he was sorely mistaken.

"Oh? Am I going to get treated?" He grinned while squaring his shoulders. "In that case, I'll take anything with meat."

"I have stuff for chicken and sausage gumbo. It'll take about an hour."

Lancer looked up and to the left as if trying to recall something. He found whatever he was trying to remember, and his eyes brightened. "Sounds interesting. I want to try it!"

Naomi started taking the ingredients out of the fridge. "You know what it is?" He didn't look like he would have eaten Cajun recipes in his time.

He leaned his elbow on the counter and Naomi couldn't help her eyes lingering the way his well-defined muscles moved under his tight battle clothing. "The Grail gives me a lot of information so I can easily navigate the current time. Remember?"

"Sorry," she bit sarcastically while cutting up celery. "I didn't know it would include mundane stuff like food."

Lancer noticed he had stepped on her toes and slid out of the chair. "Do you need any help? I know the gist of how the recipe is supposed to go."

Naomi was about to say no, but she stopped herself. If she was going to try and work with this Servant she should probably take his advice and accept his help. "You could start boiling water for the rice. The pots are under the counter."

Lancer lit up and jumped behind the counter. He noisily freed a pot and started prepping it for the rice. He took out a second one for the main meal and opened the fridge to take out the meat. Naomi turned to put the veggies in the large pot and bumped her back against Lancer's. The kitchen was too small for two people.

"Sorry." The word came out automatically.

"No problem." Lancer said chipperly.

She grabbed the meat he had laid out and started cutting it into chunks.

"You're bleeding there." Lancer said after glancing at what she was doing.

Naomi followed his line of sight and saw she had nicked her thumb with the knife. Blood was flowing freely in a steady stream. "Oops," she said calmly and started to feel the spot throb now that she was aware of the injury. Whatever, she could heal it after she was done.

"Whatda do you mean oops? You aren't holding the knife properly. That's why you cut yourself." He took it upon himself to grab her hand and change it to a proper cutting position. Her fingers resisted and she tensed. There was no reason for him to invade her personal space so aggressively.

"Relax, this is how you hold it so you don't slice yourself open."

"Thanks, but couldn't you just show me next time?" She struggled to hold back biting sarcasm.

"I just did, didn't I?"

"I-nevermind." She didn't have the energy to reprimand him. He could have shown her how to hold the knife by doing a demonstration himself instead of jumping straight to manhandling.

She threw a rogue piece of chopped celery that had been left on the counter at his chest. He reflexively caught it, to her disappointment. "The water's starting to boil. Time to add the rice. Turn it down and let it simmer."

Lancer popped the celery into his mouth. "Your aim isn't half bad."

Naomi kicked Lancer out of the kitchen when there was nothing left to do but watch the bubbling pot and stir it occasionally.

"What do you plan to do at the church?" Lancer asked from the couch. "Going to pray for the Grail?"

She scoffed. "I'm not the type." Naomi stood over the food. The heat from the pot rolled soothingly over her bare arms and face. "The church is a front for the Mage Association. They're more like an office extension. I need to figure out why my private records are being accessed by strangers."

The Church was a farce for non-mages. Their true purpose was to police mages. She wasn't sure how religion became mixed up in all of it, but it had been apart of the Mage Association for over a thousand years. The Church's status made it easy to mingle with and keep tabs on mages and non-mages alike.

"Sounds like a pain." Lancer stated.

Naomi kept stirring the contents, her back to Lancer. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open as her body wound down. The strong smell of spices helped keep her awake, but she closed her eyes while slowly stirring. Just wanting to rest them for a moment.

"Master." Lancer's voice felt like a sledgehammer on her brain and made her jerk her head up. "I can finish the rest. Why don't you take a break?"

Naomi checked the clock. "It just needs five more minutes."

She started taking out bowls, spoons, and hot sauce.

"I can do that." Lancer took over and set the table with eagerness.

"What do you want to drink?" She asked in between him returning and leaving to put things on the table.

"You got any alcohol?" Lancer seated himself at the table.

"Maybe." Naomi opened the fridge to check. She didn't drink often so there was a mostly intact pack of beers shoved in the back.

"This is all I have." She stuck a can to his cheek from behind and snickered when he jumped at the sensation of icy condensation.

Lancer snatched it with a toothy grin and Naomi used the distraction to take his bowl and flit back into the kitchen before he could think to retaliate. She loaded his bowl up with rice then made sure to add a lot of meat. He looked like the kind of guy who could eat a lot, and she was right. Lancer devoured his meal and topped it off by chugging the beer can. He yanked it away from his mouth a loud with a satisfied sigh.

"Liked it?" she asked while picking at her meal. A small smile adorned her lips. It was the first time she had cooked for someone else and it felt nice.

"I fought a strong opponent, ate a homemade meal from a pretty Master, and this beer isn't half bad. What's not to like?" Lancer did seem like he was enjoying himself. "This is a major step up from the last Grail War."

Naomi felt her face and ears burn, but that quickly evaporated with interesting bit at the end. "You were in another Grail War?"

He nodded. "My proper Master was killed, and my seals were stolen by a slimy priest. That guy was always shady. I didn't know how far he would go until he tricked me three times over." Lancer was still relaxed but Naomi could see the way his lips twitched downward. "I don't feel like I really experienced it, though. It's more like a dream. A really crappy one."

"Sounds like a bad person to work with."

Lancer flashed his teeth and his eyes sparkled. "He definitely wouldn't have cooked me a meal or shared his alcohol. You don't back down from a fight, either. I like ya already."

His sincerity made her turn red all over again. She felt a strange but pleasant sensation in her chest. It was strange to do something for a person and have it feel this good.

Naomi stood up to take his bowl and empty can. "Glad I'm an improvement," she said with sincerity.

Lancer started washing out the dishes while Naomi put up the leftovers.

She took the dried dishes and put them up while wondering why Lancer wasn't just throwing them into the dishwasher. He looked content, so she didn't bother him about it.

Her eyes were itching by the time they were done, and she was feeling a bit lightheaded. "I think I'll sleep before going to the church after all. I'd probably have a wreck if I drive right now."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll keep watch. Thanks for the meal, Master. You know how to cook."

"Sure," she said with a small smile and an anxious feeling bubbling up in her chest.

---

It was past noon when she drove up to the unassuming church. She slammed the car door and approached the courtyard gate.

"There's a spell preventing me from entering." Lancer materialized next to her.

"Probably because it's the headquarters for the Grail War." Fights were forbidden at the sanctuary so it made sense that they would put up a ward. "Wait out here. This shouldn't take long."

"Sure, sure."

Pushing her way through the large wooden doors of the church, she came face to face with a familiar priest dressed in black. Deep wrinkles overlapped his skin, bellying his age that was slipping into eighty. He was standing in the entrance as if expecting her. He probably was, they always had a way of knowing when someone was entering the premises.

"I heard from the overseer that you summoned a Servant." Roland was anything but pleased. "How did you come by a catalyst?"

Naomi leveled the priest with apathy. She had known this old man since her early childhood. He was the one who told her she wasn't qualified for the Mage Association and had suspiciously shown up after her aunt had mysteriously disappeared. He had dragged her into the church and interrogated her about her aunt's magecraft and asked if she had been doing anything suspicious. Of course, he didn't get much out of her as a confused child.

"None of your business. I'm here to find out why a maniac was able to read my records."

Roland was unblinking. "The records of Holy Grail contestants are accessible to all during the war. You can look at your opponent's files if you wish. Do you know your wish for it?"

It infuriated her how quickly he deducted the reason for her visit.

"Maybe."

"You know, if you're feeling charitable-"

"I'm not in a good mood. Show me the records and I'll be on my way." The church always made her feel tense. She had never visited on pleasant terms.

Roland ushered her inside of the small church lined with musty smelling pews and directed her to a back room.

"What class is your Servant?" He inquired wile pulling out a folder. "For record purposes."

"A secret." Anyone who got into a fight with Lancer would immediately pinpoint his class, but she didn't care to make it easier on the old priest.

Dull lamps flickered on tables and a fireplace blazed against the wall. The stone walls were chilled and rows upon rows of shelves held files of magi from across the world. It looked like something right out of medieval times though this was a church in America. They really needed to renovate and get some computers to store their data on.

Roland directed to a desk and presented a stack of files. Five contestants. Including her. Strange considering there should be seven Masters.

"You cannot take them out of the church or make copies. I will be checking your person before you leave." He turned to leave but paused. "Have you seen Joan recently?"

He hadn't asked about her aunt in a long time and she was thrown off for a moment. It was suspicious and put her on edge that he was asking after her relative at the start of this war.

Her lie came easily. "No. Why would I?"

"It was just a thought. Very well. Take your time." He left her to her own devices.

Roland had asked her from time to time if Joan had popped her head up, and constantly reminded Naomi to come to him if Joan talked to her. Maybe she was feeling paranoid because Joan was actually around this time. Naomi wouldn't rat her out again. She felt bad enough from the first time.

Naomi leafed through the pages, glancing at the photos stapled to each pack. On the front of one was Simmon's in a professional picture like one that would be in a yearbook. He was an unassuming man and his profile pegged him as a banker with no notable past. His family line was fairly old, but not in the upper echelons of mage society, according to the file.

She skimmed the pages, looking for information on his Servant. The church's way of keeping records was too cumbersome and ancient for her tastes. This would go faster on a computer with a search function.

There was very little information she didn't already know. The Servant's class, Rider, was printed plain as day. The Rider class could drive any beast or machine. Yet Rider hadn't used any sort of mount. The catalyst used to summon the Servant was a mirror, but that didn't give her any hints to the Servant's identity.

Naomi picked her personal file out of the bunch. It had her address, minimal information on her family, specifically mentioned her ties to Joan, and her status as an untrained mage. There was no information about her being a Master or a mention of a Servant. Naomi threw the file into the fireplace. It would be nice if it was the only copy in existence but there were probably more. The priest could be pissed at her for destroying 'church property' but he could get over himself.

Not wanting to spend all day in the musty church, she took out her phone and snapped photos of every packet. Joan's file was one of the two missing which meant they didn't know she was in the war as well. Naomi realized she had missed a call from the very same person. She sent all the pictures she had taken and waited.

Typing bubbles appeared on the bottom of the screen.

You should have contacted me the moment you summoned your Servant. – Joan

I got caught up. I had a run in with Rider and their Master. – Naomi

Did you fight them? Did your servant take any damage? – Joan

I fought them a little bit. No damage was done to either Servant. – Naomi

Don't engage them again. Understand? Find out where they're holed up and report to me if anything changes. – Joan

Okay. – Naomi

Love you, sweetie. – Joan

Naomi took a deep breath and left the papers where she found them. Her phone buzzed.

You didn't say, "Understood". Is something wrong? – Joan

I'm busy – Naomi

Do you need me to call? – Joan

Now Naomi was getting annoyed, and as she was in the middle of replying, Joan started calling. Naomi ignored it with a huff and stuffed the phone in her pocket. It rang several times and vibrated from text messages. Her shoulders went more and more stiff, but she willed herself to ignore Joan.

Roland checked Naomi's pockets before letting her go.

At the gate, Lancer materialized. "You're pretty wound up. What happened in there?"

Naomi's lips flattened into a line. "Their record keeping abilities are awful and that stupid priest was asked if I would get the Grail for the church."

Lancer closed one eye and grinned as if he had heard a funny joke. "That's quite presumptions of them."

"At least I'm not so dense that I wouldn't confiscate someone's phone." She rummaged in her pocket. "I smuggled out information on the other Masters, but they didn't have files on everyone." She bristled at the missed calls and messages from Joan and deleted them form the home screen. She turned her phone around so Lancer could see the photos. "Here's the ones we fought last night."

Lancer leaned forward with his hands on his hips. "Not a whole lot to go on unless you want to raid their house."

"What I don't understand is why they're willing to divulge everything about the Masters, but nothing about the Servants."

"Servants are a Master's trump card. This war would go by a lot faster if everyone knew each other's weak points," Lancer said matter of fact. "Don't tell me you don't know the basics."

"I had a crash course." She was no war strategist and was under no illusion that she knew everything about the Grail Wars. "I know enough...I need to do some research. Let's go home."

---

"Something's on your mind." Lancer materialized as sitting on Naomi's bed.

She had just finished uploading the pictures she had taken at the church to the computer for safe keeping. Lancer pick up a glass orb that was on her nightstand. He inspected the swirling colors floating inside.

"Get your foot off the bed or take your shoes off." Naomi scolded.

Lancer dropped his leg to dangle over the bed.

"There's no proper way to research these Servants even if we know their true name. There are too many myths and legends surrounding them. The only thing I can pull up about mirrors tied to myths is Narcissus or Perseus fighting Gorgon. Neither of them used an actual mirror. The rest of the stories are just dumb superstitions not connected to myths."

Lancer threw his leg over his thigh. "You said yourself it was a catalyst. It could have just been an object they were attached to in life. Our legends are what give us power and shape our abilities. There are different iterations depending on historical interpretations. Those interpretations can manifest differently depending on our class. The Master also influences our abilities and personality."

Naomi leaned back in the chair; her interests piqued. She wasn't aware a master could alter their Servant, or that there were different versions of the same Servant. "Has anything changed for you?"

"Everything but my lance and a few runes have been sealed away. I don't mind. It's all I need to take down an opponent. The added strength from being a Servant is a plus."

"Is anything about your legend off from what really happened? What have I changed about your personality?"

Lancer shrugged. "Calm down with the questions. I don't know what people think about me these days. I only have my memories. As for what you have changed by being my Master…Hmmm…I don't know right now. It should become apparent with the more battles we fight."

Naomi absentmindedly fingered the dangling earring attached to her earlobe then remembered it wasn't hers. She had retrieved it from under the couch and was surprised Lancer hadn't said anything about her wearing it. "I keep forgetting to give this back."

Lancer waved away. "Nah, keep it. It suits you. It wouldn't disappear with me in spirit form, anyway. It's too solid."

"Then I'll keep wearing it so it doesn't get lost. If that's okay." Naomi re-clasped the earring that should have been in a museum. "You said the catalysts were objects important to a Servant. What were these Earrings from? Are you sure you don't want it?"

"They were less an object of importance and more of an accessory of habit. Hang onto it. One copy is enough." He flicked his earring and gave a cheeky grin. "You should be grateful. It has some powerful magic protection."

Naomi cracked a smile, feeling better about having the earring with his permission.

"I'll take good care of it," she promised. "But, the summoning was a little weird. I didn't recite the incantation or have both parts of the catalysts in the summoning circle."

"Maybe it has to do with feeling like this isn't the first time we've met." He strained to make it sound like a joke but there was something flickering in his eyes, like he was chasing a memory that remained just out of reach. "Ah, well. It doesn't matter. It worked, didn't it?"

She didn't feel anything familiar about him, but she was grateful he answered her summons. "Thank you for coming."

Lancer scratched his nose. "Don't get all sappy on me. There's nothing to thank me for. I came for some good fights. That's it."

Naomi swiveled back to her desk and the laid open tome. She needed to figure out how to make a barrier around the apartment, or some kind of alarm system. It would take her a while to decipher the text. Her dead language skills were rusty.

Lancer stood and picked up a round clay box the size of his palm. He inspected the paint and fine inlaid hairs. The rings stored inside it clanked together.

She was starting to get annoyed. "Is there a reason you're picking at everything?"

Honestly, it was like he couldn't sit still for two seconds.

"You have a lot of interesting trinkets but none of them are bound with magic."

It was admittedly a little strange for someone who called themselves a magus to be lacking in magically imbued items.

"My family isn't an old lineage. I haven't officially trained. That's plain old horsehair pottery from New Mexico." She was a fifth-generation mage. A blip on the radar compared to other families that had been around for over a thousand years.

Lancer set the pot back down on her dresser.

Naomi glanced at her book and let out a suffering sigh. "You said you used Rune magic. Do you know anything about barriers?" The runes he'd used in his fight against Rider had been foreign, but he was clearly versed in some kind of magecraft.

Lancer glanced over her shoulder at the tome. "Nah. Those are completely different."

Naomi thought it would have been too good to be true. "Damn."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You strike me as a smart lass."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she bit sarcastically.

"You'll do fine."

"Can you be on lookout while I go over this? It might take a while before I can try anything." Naomi hated to be rude but she wanted Lancer out of the room so she could concentrate.

"If you make suggestions rather than commands I might not know what to do." He smirked slyly.

She raised her voice. "Go on the roof and let me know if any Servants or Masters come sniffing around."

It should be safe during the daytime but that was beside the point.

He gave a satisfied smile. "Aye, aye." His voice grew to an echo as his body vanished into blue orbs of lights.

With pen and paper, Naomi started going through her old notes to try and jolt her memory.

---

It was hours later when the sun started going down. Naomi rubbed her strained eyes and decided she had spent enough time trying to review the chapter on barriers. She wanted to try putting a spell into practice before going to bed.

Taking a paper out of the pile she had accumulated, Naomi brought it out into the living room. She crouched down to place the page on the floor. A circular rune was drawn on the paper. Lines were traced around the inside of the circle, creating the needed pattern. She placed her hands around the edges of the paper and closed her eyes. Naomi read the words she had written around the symbol in her head. Trying to make them sound loud and clear. The name was unnecessary, but it helped her concentrate. The goal was to create a barrier that encased the entire complex.

Focusing on the contours of the apartment building she was familiar with, Naomi gathered what magic she could access. Her circuits lit up with a stream of warmth like flowing water and it boiled through her circuits. Magic rose and expanded, creating an invisible dome around the apartment that would stall or block Servants and alert her to anyone with marginally strong magic.

The translucent dome that would be invisible to non-mages connected at its pinnacle, closing off the area. Naomi opened her eyes. Sweat beaded her forehead and her breath came in labored gasps.

Lancer whistled. "Not bad. It might last a week if you're lucky."

She hadn't notice him materialize in the room.

Naomi leaned into the back of the couch. She'd never tried magic on such a scale and it felt like it nearly killed her in the process. Every magic circuit along her veins was on fire.

"It's not a very strong barrier. It's paper thin." She seriously doubted it would last a week. Maybe a few days. She had never made anything to last before. The barrier she had created to protect from the collapsing pavilion had been the longest she had held a spell and it was nearly used up by the time Lancer dug her out.

"It's an impressive start for a magus who claims to be terrible at magic. If you had a teacher you might be a force to reckon with."

"Hey. I didn't say I was bad," she snapped. "Why? Are you offering now?"

Lancer picked up the paper with the barrier symbol on it. It was more complex than the ones she drew on her arms.

"There are better teachers than me."

She lifted a knee and tucked her arm between her leg and stomach. "I don't think I'll find another one. I can barely read the language in the books. It would take decades to teach myself."

Naomi could ask her aunt to teach her again, but Naomi always seemed to get further when teaching herself.

"I'm surprised you would let a little thing like that stop you. You make it sound like you had one. Why don't you find your old teacher?"

Naomi unconsciously picked at the inside of her arm where a pink scar resided. "I'd rather swallow a bottle of thumbtacks."

---

Almost two weeks went by where Naomi saw hide nor hair of Rider or her Master. She passed much of the time translating her grandfather's book much like a cram week before finals. Lancer spent most of the time lounging around, seeming content to wait until something more interesting popped up.

Any time Naomi walked into the room she immediately became that interesting thing. Lancer would practically breathe down her neck with inquiries under his poor concept of personal space.

One of the times she was cleaning, Lancer was standing behind her, asking what would be for dinner. He was so close he was almost caging her. Naomi turned around and stuck the duster in his face. He snorted as the feathers went up his nose. His resulting expression melted her annoyance and she couldn't help but laughing his bewildered, scrunched up face.

He'd smiled stupidly then she'd given him the duster while she went to make food.

They developed a routine and Lancer turned out to be a decent roommate. If she asked him to do something, it would get done with little fuss. He seemed to enjoy helping out where he could. Especially if food or drinks were mentioned.

During an afternoon, Naomi leafed to a scrawling circular rune that took up much of the page. "Jeez. This looks way too complex. What is this even for? Starting a tornado?"

She had chugged through a third of the book and wasn't sure she had translated all of it correctly.

"Ath nGabla," Lancer read.

"Bless you."

Lancer leaned over her, putting a hand on her shoulder. It took all of her power not to jump at the contact. He had been avoiding the book's contents but every now and then he couldn't help poking his head in when she'd spent too much time in her room.

"It's a spell for a death matche. It gives opponent's no choice but to compulsively obey a fight to the death with one another."

"I thought only Command Seals could force someone to obey?"

"Command seals are not all that different from runes so it's not as strange as you might think."

"I see." Naomi wrote down the page number.

She paused. "Wait. You can read this?"

Lancer rubbed the back of his head. "Well, the Grail gives Servants the ability to read and speak most languages. You didn't think I knew English in my lifetime, did you?"

"Lancer!" Naomi stood abruptly from her desk. She had half a mind to bludgeon him. "You could read this thing the whole time and you didn't think to help? Ugh!" She could have gotten so much further if she hadn't been stuck translating it herself.

He waved his hand between him and the looming textbook. "You looked like you were doing a fine job. You don't need my translation skills."

"You just didn't want to study. Lazy ass…" Naomi dropped the book on the desk with a loud thud and pressed the heel of her palm to her temple. Her eyes squeezed tight to quell the throbbing. "I'm hungry. I'm going to make lunch." She was too angry and had been studying too long to concentrate.

"Don't be mad. Here I'll make it up to ya." He started following her out of the room but stopped, his face hardening.

"Wait," Lancer said sharply. His posture going stiff.

"What is it?" She asked grumpily.

"I feel a Servant's mana."

Naomi's heart rate picked up. "Rider?"

"I can't tell until I see for myself. It doesn't quite smell like her."

"Go find out. I'll be right there."

Lancer nodded and vanished into spirit form.

Naomi hurriedly put on her shoes and dashed down the apartment stairs.

The complex appeared innocuous. She could sense her barrier. If she closed her eyes she could imagine each point of it. The parking lot was still. Cars were parked in front of the three story apartment units, but what was strange was the lack of feral cats. Almost every time she stepped outside one would dart out from behind the dumpster.

Lancer was nowhere in sight so Naomi closed her eyes and called to him. "Do you see anything?"

Her servant materialized next to her. "I couldn't find anyone suspicious. It's almost as if they've vanished."

Naomi closed her eyes again and tried to feel the barrier to see if anything was crossing through its outskirts. Nothing.

"Maybe they left." She opened her eyes.

"You didn't sense them crossing the barrier?"

"No. Before you noticed them up until now, I haven't felt anything. That's weird." Maybe she had gotten the spell wrong or messed it up when she tried to re-strengthen it.

"If you can't find anything then there's nothing to chase. I'm going back inside."

---

An hour later her phone rang.

"Hello?" Naomi asked and immediately regretted not checking the caller ID.

A confidant female voice glided out of the device. "Sweetie. I haven't heard from you in a while, so I wanted to give you a call."

Naomi's pupils shrank to pinpoints. "There hasn't been anything to report."

"Who is that?" Lancer came up next to her in the kitchen.

Naomi tightened her grip on the phone and gave him a 'one minute' gesture.

"Is that your Servant? I trust you're happy with who I picked out. He's supposed to have the worst luck in the universe. Almost like he's cursed." The voice lifted in amusement. "I thought it was...poetic."

Naomi didn't wasn't sure what Joan was going on about and knew better than to ask.

"Come find me at the church at eight. I want to talk in person. It's been too long and I want to see your face. Understood, sweetie?"

Naomi tensed up. It was shy of a week since they last met. "Understood."

The phone went silent.

Naomi's hands shook as she put the phone away and she tightly gripped it in her pocket. Though she worked for her aunt, she avoided seeing her and talking directly on the phone at all costs. She felt guilty for ratting her out as a child all those years ago, but their conversations always left her unsteady.

"So?" Lancer asked.

Naomi nodded sharply. "My aunt wants to meet at the church."

He grinned. "Is there going to be a fight?"

"I doubt it." At least, not a physical one.

She went into her room to get ready since eight o'clock wasn't that far away. Lancer stood at the ready in the living room, watching her every move like an excited dog expecting a walk.

Naomi grabbed her keys then leaned against the kitchen counter like it was a mental support. "Before we go I should tell you a little more about my aunt, Joan."

Lancer leaned back with a groan. "Is this a long story?"

Naomi shook her head. "I'll keep it short. I probably should have told you this earlier. I'm working for her in the Grail War. She's also a Master and I'm…'insurance' to make sure she gets the Grail." She recited Joan's term.

Lancer flashed his teeth and his eyes became sharp. "I hope that doesn't mean you plan to throw the Grail War. If you do, we might have a problem in this partnership."

A bark of laughter from her confused Lancer. It was too amusing that he thought she would throw the war.

"I don't really care about the Grail. But I don't plan on losing. Even to my aunt. I'm going to win and prove I'm not a throwaway. I'm tired of letting others decide what I am and what I'm not. I want to see the look on the Mage Associations face when I tell them I won the Grail War." She would play along with her Aunt just enough to be in this war, then they would have to eventually fight, unless another Master got to Joan first.

Naomi didn't believe in an almighty wish making object, and what she wanted couldn't be wished for. If she was going to show the Mage Association and her aunt that she wasn't good enough to be a mage, she would have to win that honor on her own. Of course, she would have to do it with a Servant's help. Winning a Grail War came with its own kind of respect and was the loudest way to stick her middle finger to everyone who ever told her she wasn't good enough.

Lancer clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder, nearly toppled Naomi under his weight. "I knew I had a good feeling about ya."

---

The street lights were on when they made it to the church. Naomi stepped cautiously out of the car and looked about the parking lot that contained one other car. Naomi zipped up her jacket and breathed fog over her scarf.

Joan in the courtyard, sporting a confidant smile.

"Hi sweetie." Joan cooed. The woman was tall with long brown hair and wore a name brand blouse with slacks. "Why are you so nervous? The church is neutral ground. Servants can't cross this threshold. Come over here and give me a hug."

Naomi crossed a lump in her throat and crossed the threshold. There was something about how well put together her aunt always looked that made Naomi feel leagues beneath her as when she was a kid.

"That's your boss, huh?" Lancer asked in her mind. He was out of sight in spirit.

Her chest flipped over itself with an irregular palpation as she stepped over the barrier's line. "Yeah. That's my aunt. Joan."

"It's been a long time since I've been able to see you. I didn't get to see you for what? Eight, ten years until a couple months ago? You should call more and not just for business. I'm always wondering how you're getting along."

Naomi remained silent out of a guarded nervousness.

"I'm surprised the church hasn't tried to off you since you're now a Master. They hate magi. Why are you staying so far away? Come closer."

That wasn't right. The church and the Mage Association were the same. "What are talking about?"

Joan shifted her weight and clicked her tongue. "Sweetie. I raised you to be smarter."

It felt like cold invisible fingers squeezed Naomi's heart. The shift in tone was slight, nearly unnoticeable, but it put Naomi on high alert.

"The church hates mages so the fewer in existence, the better in their self-righteous book. You and I are abominations. Remember?"

"That's blowing it a bit out of proportion, don't you think?" Lancers voice echoed through the night air.

Joan looked around with a scowl. "I know you're the Servant Cú Chulainn. Why don't you show yourself? I'm the reason you're here to begin with."

Lancer materialized behind Naomi and spun Gae Bolg one handed. He settled it casually over his shoulder.

"You've got nothing on me, lady. You have an awfully big chip on your shoulder. Did that fancy pants Mage Association let you down on a bad night?"

Joan's hands fell from her hips and her lips curled. "You shouldn't talk like you know anything. You're a temporary construct."

Naomi took a step forward over the courtyard's threshold. "Don't talk to him like that."

In a swift movement, Joan hooked Naomi with her arms and threw her to the ground. Naomi saw white and all the breath left her lungs.

"Hey!" Lancer momentarily forgot about the barrier and rammed into the invisible surface. He hastily drew a rune in the air and it fizzled harmlessly against the barrier. "What are you doing?" He snapped at Joan.

The cold ground seeped through Naomi's clothes as Joan leaned down next to her and gathered up Naomi's hair into her fist. Naomi head spun. Joan had attacked her with no provocation. This wasn't like her.

Joan pulled Naomi's head back and it felt like her scalp was being ripped up.

"Don't talk back to me. Servants aren't real people. They're just a collection of magic made to resemble myths and legends. They're delusional and not in their right minds."

Naomi choked out and clawed at Joan. "Let go!" She thrust her palm to push out a spinning micro-barrier the size of a dessert plate.

Joan slapped Naomi's head into the ground with an audible thud. Naomi saw stars and her vision momentarily went black.

"Wrong. Servants are no better than robots. You give them commands and they complete them. It doesn't go more in depth than that," Joan said coldly.

Lancer aimed Gae Bolg and thrusted it one armed at the barrier. The cursed lance hit it in a brilliant light show of spitting sparks that flew past his cheeks. The barrier held steady. "Damn it! Master!" His eyes flashed, and veins appeared around them. "Get up! Don't tell me you were all talk before!"

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut to will away the pain and braced against the concrete. A feeling of panic, anger, and a smidge of fear that wasn't hers squeezed her chest with suffocating force. It didn't make any sense, but it seeped into her and propelled her to stand.

Joan stepped back. "Stand up. If we're to win this war you can't be weak. What if I had been a Servant or another magus? You would be dead. Never let your guard down."

Naomi managed to get on her feet while holding her stinging face and throbbing head. Her back hurt like hell and she was feeling the earlier bruise from when Rider made her hit the ice. Joan was starting to sound more normal, but still didn't make any sense.

"That's it!" Lancer encouraged. "Get up and get out of there!"

There had to be a reason Joan was lashing out. "Why are you attacking me?"

"I don't have time to get it through your thick skull that you're not strong enough to face other Masters and Servants. You already disobeyed once." Fire collected in Joan's palm and Naomi's throat squeezed tight. "If you can't defend yourself you can't win this war without my help."

"I can defend myself just fine." Naomi summoned a barrier to deflect a slung fire ball. "How do you expect me to be in a war, with a Servant, and not end up in a fight?"

"You're still using those things? Use your body and offensive spells." Joan slung a fire ball at the shield and it splashed against the barrier and lit up the courtyard. "I told you. You wait for me to take down the opponent. All you have to do is keep them preoccupied."

"That's not realistic," Naomi bit back.

"It wouldn't matter." Lancer bit out. "I'll be damned, even with a Command Seal, that I'll be held back ever again," Lancer said defiantly.

Joan pinned him with a glare. "A Servant's first job is to protect their Master. Which means waiting for my instruction. Remember that."

"I have no reason to listen to anything you have to say." The anger in Lancer's voice rolled off him like fire.

Joan slung the fire ball she held, and Naomi quickly set up a barrier. The flames splashed against the surface in a blinding billow of flames.

"Your left!" Lancer shouted.

Joan had rounded the flat barrier and was coming at Naomi, fists swinging. Naomi backed up and dodged the punch. The world swayed and sputtered with static. She stumbled and clutched her head. Instead of following through with the punch, Joan grabbed Naomi by the collar of her shirt and kneed her in the stomach. The air left Naomi's lungs and she doubled over, incapacitated by pain. Joan shoved Naomi the rest of the way down and stomped on her back. Naomi couldn't help crying out as Joan's heel dug into the soft part of her back.

"That's enough!" Lancer snarled and kicked the barrier. "This isn't a fight!"

Naomi elbowed Joan's shin with as much force as she could muster. Joan flinched but didn't remove her foot until a couple seconds after. "You don't have the physical strength to back up your lack of useful magic. Look how scrawny you are."

Joan kicked Naomi in the ribs. Naomi grunted as air gushed out of her and she grabbed Joan's ankles. She tried burst another barrier up at her face, but Joan kicked Naomi's inner elbow joint with bruising force. Naomi couldn't hold back a sound of pain as she withdrew.

"The other Masters won't let you walk. They will come for you and they will kill you unless you're skilled enough to defeat them. And I know you aren't there yet."

Lancer bared his teeth. "You're really shit at supporting the people under you. Aren't you a Master? Where's your Servant? Hiding just like you're doing now? Can you only attack people who can't fight back?"

It stung to hear him think she was helpless. No matter how hard she tried, she was always proven how pathetically weak she was.

Joan's lips formed a thin line. "Watch your mouth, dog. I'm talking to my niece, not you."

"Stop it," Naomi demanded angrily and burst a barrier at her to make Joan back off and give her some breathing room. She wanted Joan to shut her mouth and disappear into the night.

"Shut up." Joan seethed and avoided the barrier. "Don't speak unless I ask you a question."

Lancer's voice fell flat. "You have a sour mouth on you. Why don't you come out here and tests those fists on me?"

Naomi felt like she had been struck with electricity. Joan had never cursed at her before. She was harsh, but never to this extent. It was like she was a completely different person.

Joan acted as if she hadn't heard him and spoke to Naomi again. "I'll keep the other Masters from killing you. All you have to do is survive until the end and inform me of other Master's movements. Do not engage other Servants. Understood?"

Lancer gripped his weapon tighter.

"No," Naomi said through shaky breath and coiled stomach. "I don't want to just survive and sit on the sideline. You can't realistically expect me not to get involved in other fights."

Joan narrowed her eyes. "You still don't get it. You can't do anything but survive. The whole world is against you and I'm the only one on your side. Go home and rest up. I'll contact you later when you've calmed down. Understood?"

Naomi was disgusted at herself. She had promised to fight, even if it was against Joan, and here she was unable to do a damn thing against her. Joan always ended up right. "I never agreed to sit and do nothing. But, I have changed my mind. I won't help you get the Grail. I'll get it myself."

A wave of dizziness struck her throbbing head and she gripped her hairline. Something wet coated her fingers.

Joan sighed and rubbed her temple. "The Grail is already ours. It doesn't matter which one of us gets it. Go home before you hurt yourself further. Understood?"

Naomi glanced at Lancer who was standing at the barrier line with a pinched brow. If she left now she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye.

"You called me here to fight, didn't you? Why don't you finish what you started?"

"Don't do it," Lancer interjected.

"Why are you always so stubborn." Joan walked toward her, and Naomi collected prana into her runes. "I said. Understood?"

Naomi waited for Joan to get closer. Joan halted suddenly and started chanting a spell. The ground under Naomi's feet lit up white and she barley registered that she should get out of dodge when an invisible force gripped her throat.

"Tell me you understand."

Naomi struggled for breath and clawed at the invisible force. She wasn't answering fast enough.

"Understood?" Joan asked, impatient.

Naomi felt her very core crawl as she reluctantly gagged out the word, "U-Uunder-stood."

She was sent tumbling through the air, unable to distinguish up from down until something snagged her out of the sky. The wind rushed through by her ears as her stomach dropped with gravity. Lancer landed on his two feet while holding her bridal style. His hold was close, pressing her chest up against his where she could feel his heart hammering as quickly as her own. His muscles were tensely coiled and his fingers dug into her skin.

Lancer's teeth were bared at Joan standing just inside the bounded field. "Is this really how you treat someone who's supposed to be family?" he snarled.

"You should turn that passion on the other Masters and Servants. They're the ones who mean her real harm. You are her guard, aren't you?"

"Let me down," Naomi said quietly while rubbing her throat.

It was frightening to hear the growl in Lancer's throat and see the fire in his eyes. He complied and stepped in front of her, summoning Gae Bolg. "Funny how you won't answer me. You're lucky there's a barrier between us, but I suppose you planned it that way. Humans in general suck but, you mages take it to a whole new level."

Lancer was getting too heated. Naomi knew her aunt liked it when people were enraged. It made them stupid and vulnerable.

"Lancer. Let's go." Naomi's voice came out robotic "She won't summon her Servant so there's no point staying." She reached for her pocketed car keys. Her hands were shaking so much it was hard to fish them out.

Lancer grit his teeth. "Why don't you stop hiding behind there like a coward?"

"Lancer," Naomi called again.

"What a scary look. Are you angry?" Joan's eyes narrowed with intensity. "I play smart, not honorably."

As she spoke, an unnatural fog closed in from all sides like a rolling tide, blocking Joan from sight. This wasn't a spell her aunt was known to use.

"Damn her," Lancer cursed, and it looked like he wanted to spring at her despite the bounded field.

Naomi breathed deep and the fog entered her lungs, burning its way down. Her throat convulsed, and she coughed on the acrid itch. She put he shirt over her nose, trying not to breathe it in.

Something flew at them out of the fog and Lancer lunged as if launched off a spring board. He deflected it and was swallowed by the fog. Naomi took a step toward, him about to call out when a presence filled Naomi's left.

She hazarded a tilt of her head, hoping it was Lancer. What she saw was a gaunt little girl of perhaps ten dressed in dirty rags. Her limp arms were curled into fists against her bare legs and her vacant yellow eyes stared up at Naomi.

The little girl spoke in a dead, husky voice. "I want to go back where it's warm." Daggers appeared in her fists with a flash of blue and she moved faster than Naomi could react.

The blades sliced over Naomi's thighs and she gagged as metal ripping through flesh and muscle.

Naomi struck her palm at the girl and staggered to stay standing. The child jumped back, easily dodging the popping barrier. A nearby clashing of metal made her insides churn and Naomi started coughing anew when she sucked in the fog.

"Face me head on! Are you too scared to strike me like a proper fighter?" Lancer's bellowing challenge cut through the night.

Naomi moved blindly, using his voice as a guide, until she bumped into her crouched Servant and came face to face with Lancer's blade. Veins were popping up around his eyes which had narrowed to vertical slits. She had never looked into the eyes of someone with such a deadly intent to kill. In that instant, she was terrified of him.

Lancer swung his weapon to point it blindly into the fog. "Watch your back," he warned and backed up to Naomi. She could see he was bleeding from his chest through a long gash.

He cursed. "I can't see a thing and this fog is poisoned."

They had to be dealing with Joan's Servant. The bad part was, Naomi didn't know what class of Servant. The only classes unaccounted for in the files, aside from her Lancer, was Archer and Assassin. Archers used projectiles, not knifes. It had to be Assassin.

The hidden little girl began humming a somber tune that echoed from everywhere at once. "Mommy says I should kill you. Then I can go where it's warm."

Naomi resisted the urge to press up against her warrior. This little girl. This Assassin Servant…there was something extremely wrong about her.

"Is it too much trouble to give a little warning?" Lancer lamented.

As if to answer him, a sword the size of a claymore flashed out of the fog. He moved swiftly and blocked the blow with his lance. It vanished back into the mists.

A childish chuckle surrounded them, and the blade returned, nearly running Naomi through the head. Lancer danced around Naomi and blocked the hit. Though the blade was still pushing against Lancer's weapon, a second, normal sized dagger flashed into sight.

Lancer hastily flung away the sword he was parrying and whirled to knock away the dagger.

Naomi put her hands up and barely managed to make a split-second barrier that deflected an emerging sword back where it came from. Lancer remained poised above her as the weapons seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Naomi cursed through her shirt. They couldn't fight without being able to see the enemy and this poison fog was making her limbs feel numb. If they moved away from each other, Lancer risked killing her on accident. Maybe she could draw out Assassin. Somehow.

"Don't lose your focus," Lancer's back muscles tightened as he leaned over his weapon, holding one hand over the other.

A giggle alerted them to their right. Lancer's blade gleamed, cutting through nothing as Gae Bolg's tip became obscured. Lancer tilted under unexpected weight. The girl charged up the weapon's shaft with daggers held at her sides.

Lancer lurched back, and Naomi slid against his out turned chest. She thrusted her palms forward, exploding light and shoving the girl off the lance. The blast cleared some of the fog, but it quickly refilled the space.

Naomi coughed. Once. Twice. It was started to get difficult to breathe. Her throat was burning and feeling thick whenever she swallowed. It didn't help it felt like there as a golf ball forming on her the side of her head.

Lancer blocked a flashing sword and saw a wielded dagger coming for his side, but he didn't have time to parry and deflect the dagger without putting Naomi in harms way. He braced himself and let it sink in below his rib cage. Assassin was on the end of the dagger, her eyes dead and unreadable.

"Lancer!" Naomi reached around to try and blast Assassin away but, she retreated before Naomi got the chance. The blade in Lancer's side dissipated into invisible magic.

Naomi realized, with mortification, that she was hindering her Servant's ability to fight. That, and learning he was willing to get stabbed to keep her from getting injured made her feel even more awful.

The little girl giggled again, and Naomi dropped to the ground. Her palms pressed against the chilled concrete and runes hidden under her sleeves glowed. A barrier erupted, pushing away the fog in their immediate area and deflecting three thrown daggers.

"This place is cold. I hate it." The little girl's voice wrapped around them and Naomi struggled to keep the barrier up to protect her and Lancer while trying to figure out where the girl was coming from.

Lancer's eyes darted around in search of the other Servant.

"Your Servant is adequately motivated to protect you. But I'm not sure he'll be enough." Joan's voice cut through and the fog began to lift. "Don't let her die, so called Child of Light. Or I'll kill you." Joan's voice floated after her, making Naomi's skin crawl. "Remember. I love you, sweetie."

When they could see all the way to the church, Naomi let the barrier fall. Joan and the Servant were nowhere to be seen.

"ch'." Lancer stood from his slight crouch and held his side. "I'm getting real tired of these Masters and their mind games."

Naomi cringed as the world swayed. "Sorry." She looked at Lancer's wounds then was struck with a coughing fit.

"Hey." He took a step closer, glancing at her head. "The fog didn't get to you too bad did it?"

She shook her head and looked at his wound again. "Can you make it home?"

All of his anger from earlier seemed to melt on the spot and he smiled cockily. "No worries. I've had worse."

She wasn't convinced. The stab wound was deep and trickling bright red blood that glittered with concentrated mana.

Naomi helped Lancer get to the car while her own wounds stung and her head spun.

Naomi drove home at fast as she comfortably could speed, breaking into coughing fits several times. One time, she came away with blood splotches. Her hands shook violently on the steering wheel and her vision threatened to give in to an encroaching blackness.

"I'm not usually one to stick my nose in other's business, but I think you should look for a new employer."

She couldn't muster up her voice to retort to his sarcasm. He wasn't wrong, but it was only temporary.

"Nice night for a drive," Lancer tried again as he laid in the back.

"Yeah," Was all Naomi could manage, but she was glad he was talking to her. It was making it easier to stay alert.

She screeched to a halt in front of her apartment and hurriedly got out and opened the back of the car. Lancer sat slumped against the far door, holding his side. A line of red liquid oozed from his mouth and red crystals spouted from his side. The cut on his chest looked shallow and was already starting to clot. He gave her an infuriating smile marred by pain.

"Had worse my ass." Naomi snarled and crawled into the back seat. "Hold still."

She sat between his legs and put her hands over his side. His warm blood seeped between her fingers and she glanced at the slice in his chest. Naomi willed every ounce of magic in her to close his wounds. Her own gashes in her legs screamed at the abuse and her lungs and throat stung horribly. The rest of her body throbbed from being thrown around like a rag doll. The poison probably amplified the feeling.

"I don't think I have a choice," Lancer joked.

Sweat began to bead her forehead as her prana drained. She had never tried to close such a deep wound and she wasn't sure if the healing would do anything for the poison. The headache she had from earlier was increasing tenfold and the dried blood on her temple was starting to itch.

Lancer pushed her back, cutting off her concentration and her healing magic. "I appreciate it but if you expend anymore magic you won't be able to heal yourself."

"There only a little bit left. Just let me finish." She deflected his hand and leaned forward to continue healing the now shallow cut. Healing his wounds was all she could do to make up for how badly she had messed up.

Lancer placed his hand above her chest to stop her from leaning further and continuing. "I can already feel my energy returning. The rest will fix itself. You should close-up your wounds. You're bleeding on me, you know."

"I said let me finish," she said forcefully, but was bellied by her shaking voice. Her whole body was starting to vibrate. She coughed into her arm and nearly choked on the ferocity of her abused lungs.

"Alright. That's enough." Lancer said with finality and exited the car.

"Excuse me, Master." Lancer scooped her up and pulled her from the car.

"I don't need to be carried," she slurred angrily then broke into another coughing fit that rattled in her chest.

"I'd rather not drop you and look bad so quit squirmin'." He took them up the stairs and unlocked the apartment. She had no idea when he had taken the keys.

"Put me down," she demanded. There was no reason she couldn't walk on her own.

"Hold on a second." Lancer struggled to keep a grip until he shimmied the door open and let her go inside.

Naomi stumbled toward the bedroom through with black edging in on the sides of her vision. First thing she needed to do was get rid of her jeans so she could heal the wound without the fabric fusing with the cut. Then she needed a shower. Maybe some food.

Naomi holed up in the bathroom and nearly fell back into the tub trying to take her jeans off. She shucked off her shoes and struggled out of her jeans with shaking hands. There wasn't a part of her that wasn't vibrating, and she cursed every second that it wouldn't stop.

The pain and a knot in her gut was pushing her stomach to the limit as her breath hitched and her eyes became watery.

She gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry, and yanked her pants down over the wounds. Kicking the jeans away, the healing runes on her skin glowed and sealed the cuts in her legs. The wound stitched itself back together and regrew healthy tissue. The feeling was awful as muscle and skin that should have needed stitches was bound back together.

When the healing light faded, Naomi was on the brink of nausea. At least some of the pain was gone. The healing had alleviated some of her headache. Her chest convulsed in a series of coughs that spasmed down to her stomach.

Naomi started the water in the tub to wash off the blood.

She scrubbed quickly then sank against the outside of the tub. The water was still running and echoing loudly in the bathroom. Naomi pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes that were finally starting to dry up. There was no reason to be having a breakdown over nothing. There was still a lot more of the war to go. Her aunt had been right. Naomi needed to be tougher. All the other magi grew up with magic in their everyday life, and most Masters had spent their entire lives training for the Holy Grail War. If Naomi couldn't handle them, then she could never prove herself as a competent magus.

Lancer knocked. "You're being awfully quiet in there."

Naomi wiped away the last of her tears and turned off the water. "Don't come in. I'm coming out."

Lancer was standing sentry just outside the door. His lips were drawn in a thin line and his eyes full of worry. Naomi gave him a passing glance to check for remaining injuries and rummaged in her drawers for a clean pair of non-ripped shorts. There were spots in her vision and she thought she might be seeing double.

"Are you sure the poison didn't get to you?" She hastily put on shorts, not caring that Lancer could see her underwear.

"Me? Nah. It doesn't work very well on Servants unless they're trapped in it for a long while."

Naomi couldn't hold back another coughing fit and felt liquid rise up into her throat that she swallowed back down.

"It's pretty potent on regular humans but I don't think we were in it long enough for it to be dangerous," he said with assurance.

She picked up stray clothes on the floor, missed them with her fingers a few times, and threw them into the laundry bin in the closet. Naomi passed by him to reenter the bathroom to retrieve her ruined jeans.

"So long as you give yourself time to recover," Lancer added as he watched her struggle to move around.

Naomi trashed the jeans and picked up a piece of paper that was sticking out from under the bed. It had likely gotten away during her study sessions.

"Master," Lancer tried to grab her attention when she fumbled to shove the paper into the book on the desk.

Naomi shoved scattered pencils into the pencil holder. Her room was a disaster and she should have picked it up a week ago, but it was difficult with her vision all wonky.

"What is it?" She turned around and jumped at how close he was standing. He was much taller than her. Almost by a foot.

"That was a hint that you should sit down. You can clean up later, yeah? The mess isn't going to get up and run away."

She wanted to ask him how she was supposed to relax after they had nearly died. As if to spite her and prove his point, she broke into a coughing fit and leaned against the desk for support. She tried to speak up several more times but could only manage a nod to answer Lancer.

"Hang on. I'll get some water. We don't need you coughing up a lung." Lancer hastily left, and Naomi sat on the messy bed and gripped the edges of the sheets.

The same rolling sensation that she received during finals week for a class she knew she was close to failing.

Lancer and his twin her wavering vision had produced quickly returned. "Here."

Naomi tried to take the offered glass but missed, catching nothing but air.

Lancer gently held the back of her hand steady and put the glass in her fingers. "She hit your head pretty hard. How much can you still see?"

She hated to admit it. "It's a little blurry."

"Doesn't sound too serious. I've been smacked there before. It sucks for a while but goes away."

Lancer sat next to her as she guzzled the water like a camel in the desert. She pried the glass away from her lips to cough from drinking too much too quickly. Naomi took steadying breaths, but her limbs were still shaking.

"Do you really hate humans and magi?" It had been bothering her since he said it. She knew it was in the heat of the moment, but maybe he resented being her Servant.

Lancer sighed with exasperation. "Hate is too strong of a word. More like I don't care for their troubles." His tone lightened. "If you're thinking I hate you that's not true either. You have spirit. I like that. You haven't done anything to make me dislike ya."

Hearing him quell her fears somehow didn't help. Her tone was downcast, and the pads of her fingers traced the edges of the drinking glass. "I said all that stuff about winning the war and then immediately got beaten up," She huffed humorlessly. "That wasn't like her. I don't know what happened."

Lancer threw and arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side.

Naomi instantly went ridged. Each point of pressure he applied to her body lit up like fire. He radiated engulfing heat and his toned muscles were both hard and pliable as they flexed around her with a squeezing hug.

He sighed. "That boss of yours is a real piece of work. I thought something smelled fishy, but I wasn't expecting an attack." He threw his head back. "That lady has a lot of nerve and not the good kind."

Naomi's brain had short circuited, grinding completely to a halt as all it could focus on was the alien feeling of touching someone. The tension in her muscles increased her shaking to a nonstop shiver.

"What's wrong, Master? Thinking the same thing? You're still shaking a bit."

He pulled her flush against him and the contact enough to make her see white.

"Cat got your tongue?" He then noticed her vacant, wide-eyes and a mischievous grin split his face. "Or something else?" He flexed the arm over her shoulder and placed the tips of his fingers under her chin.

He lifted her face, so she had to look at him and she received a blurry eye full of his sharp, leering eyes.

Naomi immediately yanked her head back in both embarrassment and anger. "What are you doing?"

She regretted the movement and held her head. Lancer rested his hand on the top of her head.

"You can't play coy when your face is all flustered."

"W-w-what? It's not like that." Sure, he was good looking, but his attractiveness was the furthest thing from her mind right now. "I'm…not used to being hugged."

He leaned in closer over her, trapping her other side with the arm he leaned on behind her opposite side. His closeness was almost intoxicating and suffocating at the same time. Naomi was being touched by more people lately than she had been in years. Her parents had hugged her plenty when she was small, but it had been now those interactions were few and far between. Having someone so close was jarring, especially after her treatment by Joan that night.

"That's a shame. You have a lot of good points." His voice dropped an octave. "Want me to show you, Master?"

She leaned away and placed her hands on his chest. "I mean like being hugged, you gutter brain. My head hurts too much to even comprehend what you're saying."

"Suuure," he grinned. "You're not used to hugs, huh? That's easy to fix."

She started to get up just to diffuse the situation, but Lancer grabbed her and smashed her against him in a squeezing, vice grip. Naomi squeaked in surprise and flailed, letting go of the forgotten cup. Luckily, she had drank most of it so only a few splashes sloshed out. It was impossible to protest with her face forcibly pressed into his broad chest.

"If your head hurts so much you shouldn't be getting up." He eased up after a few seconds, but Naomi didn't pull away.

The contact was foreign, yet disturbingly enticing. His body heat seeped through her clothes and the steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing. She had a strange, stray thought that this was what something felt like when it was alive.

Slowly, she returned the hug, more so resting on him than squeezing or hanging onto him. She just, drank up his presence. His heat and his scent.

"Come on, that's not a hug. Do I have to teach you that, too?"

Her face heated up. Of course he would make fun of her.

"What do you mean, too? You wouldn't help out with the runes," she puffed.

"Yeah, about that. Maybe sometime later." He stroked the back of her head and it was enough to silence her. "This feels oddly nostalgic."

His hand kept moving downward and around to her side, gliding slowly and sensually as he rubbed his thumb over her shirt. It was like he was trialing fire down her back. Naomi shivered then her trembling relaxed all at once.

"How should I know?" She grumbled.

---

The line of Cú Chulainn's fishing pole hit the water with a splash and the line sank beneath the murky lake. He chewed on a piece of grass, feeling a good kind of sore from practicing with his sword. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and he closed his eyes to soak up the sun hitting his back. As much as he liked fighting, this was just as good when time allowed it.

"Hey! Cú Chulainn!" A man sword swinging at his side waved.

Cú Chulainn's lips upturn. He had started to wonder when Ferdiad would show up. He had certainly taken his sweet time at the castle.

The edges of his vision were black. It was only for a few seconds, but he could see a woman lying still on the ground, covered in blood and lacerations. Something towering and broader than several demonic boars hovered behind her like a monolith. His lungs rose and fell raggedly as fear coiled around his chest, outweighing the pain stabbing throughout his beaten body. He couldn't put a name to this person, but his heart felt like it was shredding. He had to get to them before that thing could kill her. He dug his nails in the dirt and managed to drag himself a few inches.

Darkness encroached on the woman and black tendrils poised sharp above her.

His voice ripped out, raw like the invisible dagger striking his chest. "No!"

---

The sun's rays woke Naomi. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in a panic from the nightmare. She rubbed her sleep caked eyes and willed her breath to slow. It didn't work when she remembered yesterday. Something in Joan had snapped, and Naomi had declared a break of their contract.

Despite wanting to roll back over, she got up and went into the bathroom to clean up.

Clean and feeling a little better, Naomi turned on the TV while passing the living room and limped into the kitchen. Her body felt like it had been used as a punching bag and every step ached.

"Another high school student has gone missing-" The newscaster droned on as Naomi turned on the coffee maker.

"Lancer are you there?" She was surprised he hadn't shown himself. After only a couple weeks, she had grown accustomed to him chatting up a storm as soon as she started moving about the apartment.

"Something up?" He spoke into her mind.

"Are all your wounds healed up?" She spoke to the TV while reaching for a coffee filter. It was awkward to converse without know where he was standing.

"Healed up one hundred percent." He sounded cheerful, at least. "You look better."

A rock hit her stomach and embarrassment filled her cheeks. She had kicked him out last night so she could sleep. Just thinking about him holding her against his side made her face burn with embarrassment.

"Why don't you materialize?" She asked the air.

The coffee filter box was empty, but she had a fresh one somewhere. She opened the creaky upper cabinets and internally sighed. The cardboard box sat pushed inside the lip of the top shelf.

"I take up less energy when I'm like this and it's easier to move around." As he spoke, Naomi could see blue lights dancing at the corner of her vision.

Naomi put her knee on the counter and hoisted herself to a kneeling position. Her bruises protested the movement, but she was determined to put some caffeine in her body. Her back arched so she could see into the cabinet and her fingers brushed the small red box.

"You're lacking a bit in height there." He walked behind her and easily grabbed the box from the shelf.

"Hey! I had it," she huffed and tried to take it back from him. She should move it lower next time so he wouldn't think he needed to help.

Lancer held it back out of reach with a cheeky grin. "You weren't even close."

She glared at him over her shoulder and twisted around to try and grab the box. She was slightly taller than him in this position, but her perch was unsteady. Naomi stretched a little too hard and her bruised ribs screamed where Joan had kicked her. She recoiled and tensed up.

It looked like she was teetering, so Lancer caught the underside of her arm. Naomi reflexively grabbed his bicep.

"You probably shouldn't be climbing on counters like a monkey if you're not healed up."

Her face heated up at the analogy. "Monkey?!"

Lancer laughed, and her cheeks burned worse when she realized he had heard her.

"Would you back off?" She shoved him away, so she could climb down. "And give me that."

"You want this, Masster?" Lancer mockingly dragged out the title and held the box over his head like a tantalizing prize. From the ground, it was well out of her reach. If she jumped she would look like a fool.

"Lancer." Her switch to a short, commanding tone made his lips quirk. "Give me the filters."

He hummed and looked away, considering following the order. "Maybe I want to keep them for myself."

"Why? Are you going to make the coffee?"

He smirked down at her and Naomi was suddenly struck with the realization that he was blocking the only way out of the kitchen and was towering over her. A small part of the back of her mind told her it wasn't smart to have let him back her into a corner, but she willed herself to calm down. She didn't think he would do anything and the had the means to stop him.

Lancer noticed her shift in mood and his lips fell to a line. "What? Are you afraid I would mess it up?"

She was grateful he had read her wrong. "Why don't you prove me wrong?"

His eyes glinted at the challenge. "Easy enough. Go sit down and I'll take care of it."

Naomi didn't think it would be that easy, but apparently, he was more motivated by a challenge than a command. He started prepping the coffee and she slipped out behind him. She situated herself at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Lancer did look like he knew what he was doing. But, the machine didn't take a genius to operate and he had seen her make a cup every morning. It was odd watching him move around in her kitchen in his battle gear.

With nothing to do but wait, her mind wandered back to last night. Lancer hadn't shown any indication he was bothered by Joan's harsh words. For some reason, deep in her gut, Naomi had hated the way Joan talked to Lancer.

"I don't think you're a fake," Naomi blurted.

Lancer was about to press the pour button, but his finger remained hovering as he looked back a her with surprised. His face morphed into a knowing smirk, and he was about to say something, but she beat him to it.

"I summoned you to be an extension of myself in the war, but I don't think you're a mindless robot."

Lancer casually hit the blinking brew button and the machine gurgled noisily. "I don't know what's going in your mind. But whatever it is you're overthinking it."

The machine finished, and he placed the single serve cup in front of her. The enticing smell of coffee curled in the air and the froth in cup bubbled. Perfectly formed. Lancer leaned his elbows on the counter with a cocksure grin.

Maybe he was right, but too much happened for her to not think about it, and the questions her aunt had stirred up. "I did break off my alliance with her." Sort of. In word, at least. Naomi knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"Yeah, you sure did. Are you going to rate my coffee?"

"Looks right," she passively commented. "I think we should go back to the church today."

He grew an edge to his voice. "You've got guts going back there so soon, but what for?"

Her nose wrinkled. "To give a so-called priest a piece of my mind."

---

In broad daylight the small church looked like any other place of worship.

"Hold up." Lancer materialized when she got out of the car. "You realize you're going behind the bounded field again?"

He was agitated, and she didn't blame him.

"Joan won't be here. Just wait by the gate." She gave him a confidant smile.

Lancer grudgingly waited as Naomi tried to hide her limping. Every step hurt, and her throat was still a bit raw.

The pews were empty, and the stain glass room was vacant save for a familiar old priest standing before the central alter.

Naomi didn't bother easing into a conversation. "You have a lot of explaining to do," she said hotly.

Roland kept up his calm demeanor. "What can I do for you, Naomi?"

"You said the church was an extension of the Mage Association. Is that actually true? Or has it been a lie this whole time?"

Roland showed no signs of guilt. "Did you see Joan?"

"That's not what I asked."

This was the man who told her she wasn't good enough to be a magus. The one who cunningly manipulated her into accidentally rat out the fact her Aunt had been teaching her.

"What if I told you she is not part of the Mage Association and never has been?"

Her hands curled into fists at her side. "You did kick her out."

"You're confused, child. She had always worked for the church."

"What's going on in here?" A lean man around her age wore an expensive collared shirt and slacks. He had short blond hair and his blue eyes snapped between them as he stepped out of a back room.

Naomi instantly recognized him from the Master profiles. Edward. A person connected to a wealthy, old mage family and had the powerful Saber class servant. Her hair stood on end despite knowing the Servant couldn't be inside the barrier.

"Saber's master is here," She warned Lancer. "Keep an eye out for the Servant."

Lancer cursed. "I had a feeling this was a bad idea. You should leave."

"Not yet."

Edward looked Naomi up and down. "So, you're the rogue mage and now Master that the church has sequestered."

He must have seen her files as well.

"I'm from the Mage Association. I'm here to partake in the Grail War and make sure the church isn't hiding anything else." His accent was thick and foreign.

Roland clasped his hands behind his back. "I assure you, master Edward. The church is hiding nothing. What would it gain?"

"A lot, apparently. On the minuscule possibility this girl wins the Grail you plan to take it for yourself. Since she's not a protected family and you've kept her existence under lock and key. I wouldn't be lying to me when there's a living testimony standing in front of us." Edward looked at Naomi. "I had meant to contact you, but the opportunity never presented itself. I don't know how a low-class magus managed to steal a catalyst and summon a Servant. Or worm their way into Lord El-Melloi's contacts"

Naomi was starting to feel like she knew absolutely nothing about the Mage Association or the Church. She felt like an ignorant idiot. "So the Church and the Mage Association aren't the same?"

"Certainly not. I know the Church has been lying to you. I can tell you what is really going on." He gave Roland a pointed look. "In private."

If she followed Edward she would in a small room, alone, with a powerful magus. The burning desire to figure out what was true and what was a lie was too strong.

Naomi found herself in a study she had sat in several times before. It was where the priest Roland liked to interrogate her. Edward closed the door behind them and walked around the desk dominating the room.

"You appear angry and rightfully so. But I will ask you to stave that rage." Edward sat in the desk's chair and folded his hands on-top of the carved wood. He looked for all the world like he owned the office and sat there every day, but she had never seen him before.

Naomi's eyes demanded he get on with whatever he wanted to tell her. "What did you mean by the church has been hiding me?"

"The Church is not fond of mages. Though we have treaties with the Church. They're petty and didn't want to see you get picked up by the Association. Your family is new, so it was easy to sweep you under the rug for hiding. Regarding that, I don't normally extend my resources to strangers, but you are a special case. Being related to Joan. And a Master. And you revealed yourself by contacting Lord El- Melloi directly. Usually, only top tier mages who train their whole lives can become Masters. You have really thrown the association a curve ball that they can't ignore."

Joan had warned her about the Mage Association for long as Naomi could remember. The association were con artists who used then discarded people. If you didn't hold enough power in their ranks, you were fresh meat for the others to pick over until there was nothing left. Still, she had a burning desire to know their world.

"You know Joan?"

"There isn't a mage that doesn't. She's was a notorious mage killer for the Church."

Naomi had never thought her aunt had killed anyone. If he had told her this a day earlier, she would have balked. After witnessing Joan's brutality last night, Naomi bit her tongue.

"And how do I factor into this?

"I want you to fight for me in this war."

Naomi couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. First the Church, now this stranger.

"Why should I fight for you?" Not that she ever would.

"That was poor phrasing. I will be on the battlefield too, of course. What I mean to say is we should be allies so I can evaluate your skills."

Naomi folded her arms. "Why do they need to be evaluated?"

"Part of why I'm here is to see where your power falls and whether or not you're salvageable for the Association. That is what you want, isn't it?"

Naomi grew hot. "Did he send you?" She was referring to Lord El- Melloi II.

Naomi joined the war to prove, on her own, that she was a decent magus and worthy of becoming of an apprentice.

"I'm not some washed up trash. I don't need to be salvaged."

"You don't have a choice in the matter. Meet me here in two days-time at ten o'clock. In the mean-time, ready yourself for battle."

Naomi was buzzing at the thought of a fight. Unlike her aunt, this magus wanted to throw her into the war. "What makes you think I'll comply?"

He gave her a look that said it should have been obvious. "If I don't evaluate you fit to join the Association, then the church will be conscripted to kill you."

---

In her mind Lancer kept inquiring about what happened. Naomi had walked out of the church, disoriented and angry. She wouldn't say a word until she was sitting in her parked car in the apartment parking lot.

"I'm being jerked around," she focused on sensing Lancer instead of the twisting in her gut. "The Church has lied to me all my life. Saber's master wants me to team up with him for the war. He wants to see if I'm 'salvageable' as a magus." She spat Edward's word into the link. "If I'm not, he'll send hitmen. I reached out to them! Why do they want to kill me all of a sudden?"

"You're surrounded by some great people," Lancer said sarcastically. "This Master tells you to be your ally and insults you in the same sentence? Were those his only terms?"

She leaned her head on the steering wheel. "He set a meet up time."

"Aaand. You're going?" He hesitated to guess.

"I don't want to, but I think he really will send a mage killer after me."

"Eh, even if he does they won't get past me."

Naomi rested her head on the steering wheel. Lancer's confidence was reassuring, but she knew it would be fleeting. "Even after the Grail War?"

She didn't know what happened to Servants after a War was over. Somehow, she didn't think it involved the Servant sticking around.

Lancer fell quiet as if he hadn't thought that far. "You have a point." There was a beat of silence then he added, "I could also string up this Edward guy and beat Saber. Then kill Edward if he still insists on sending assassins."

Naomi leaned back and cracked a small smile. "Nice to know you have a backup plan."

"I don't like spineless runts who threaten my partner."

Hearing him call her his partner shocked her so thoroughly that she accidentally hit the car horn and made herself jump at the blaring sound.