A thunderous clap ricocheted off the walls in Diarmuid's head, as metal combusted and the car's construction compacted them in. Despite his best efforts—whatever struck them made it impossible to eject from the vehicle. He could only shield his Master in their ridiculous tumble, utilizing his Servant body to absorb the impact.
They'd come to a halting crash. Cracking flames licked the metal, and a threatening heat began to spread as the car caved in around them. Haley rested her forehead on his chest. Her breathing was erratic, arms pinned to her sides but her palms were up, as if she and he were the only thing keeping the car from caving in.
"Master, are you alright?" Diarmuid queried, arching his back to withstand the weight of the collapse.
"I'm fine," Haley groaned, peering up at him through a pained, half-lidded gaze. "We gotta...move."
Nodding, the Servant said, "If you can, keep your hold, I'll drag you out." To her grumbled agreement, he broke down his physical form, swiftly manifesting at the compacted driver door and extending his hands. "Quickly," he prompted, eyes darting around the rubble. The car had descended into a ditch—and for the few seconds they had—the elongated trees provided a temporary cover.
The woman grunted, a slight whimper meandering it's way out as she stretched her arms above her head and locked hands with him. Her focus remained on the car, crinkled like a paper ball while he tugged her from the wreckage. Once free, whatever control she had over the machine dissipated, the remains collapsing inward. And while the Lady situated herself, Diarmuid remained acutely aware of his surroundings.
Magical energy of an approaching enemy Servant had him questioning just when they caught their attention. Night had only been upon them for a mere two hours and nothing alerted him to the slightest presence of another Servant. There was always the possibility of an Assassin given their concealment skills, but this did not feel as such. No master of that class would in their right mind station such a direct attack.
Mercifully, his Master was unharmed. He recognized that hum and mediocre light. The healing arts she possessed was done as needed while she situated herself onto her feet. Haley looked at him quizzically before springing out of the channel. She surveyed the area like a trapped animal before blowing a heavy breath, "Are they close, or was it an attack from an Archer?"
Relocating to her side, Diarmuid inclined his head to the canopy, "Closing in, Master. What are your…" he hesitated, even as her stare pressed him to continue. The brunette wanted them to come to decisions together and if she truly valued his input then— "I think we should face them." He concluded and as she contemplated his words he added, "If we flee now, we'd only give the impression we are weak, cowards ."
Haley leveled her stare with him, then. A weary understanding shone within those glacier orbs, "Okay." Was all she had time to say, whirling her head in the direction of an amused snicker.
Across the lines of trees, a medium-brown skinned woman was perched on a branch. Her thick, waist-length black hair flowed like gentle ocean waves swept to one side, as she angled her head. Her copper eyes surveyed them like a predator sizing up its prey.
A smirk quipped her mauve painted lips as she spoke English with a subtle, foreign inflection, "You have been such a pain to trail. Just where were you going? The Grail War," the woman jerked her thumb behind her, and Lancer observed an amber tattoo that swirled in all sorts of creative angles from the base of her elbow down to her wrist, "Is that way."
"Uh-huh, oops. Guess we took a wrong exit on the parkway," Haley sputtered. Lancer kept his features neutral as he caught her taking a retreating step towards him.
"Heading North? Hmm," she placed a tentative index finger to her chin, her raven-black, cuffed sleeves rolling down her forearm. She rose on booted feet, a light wisp of wind catching on her ashen scarf.
Master, an enemy Servant presence is behind us. Diarmuid warned, testing the telepathy that was shared between Master and Servant. He rotated to press their backs together, and keep his mole from view.
The Lady's shoulders tensed, her back going taut before mildly relaxing, Oh gosh. This is really happening. Stick to the plan, we got this, Lancer.
Their adversary tugged her scarf over head, retreating into the dark like a shadow. "Well, I guess it does not matter. Caster," Gae Dearg instantaneously emerged in Diarmuid's palm uncovered at the command in her tone. "Kill her Servant, I'll take care of the girl."
A Servant emerged in speckled blue light with a bemused smile across his lips. He was heavily cloaked in silver and blue; a hood drawn back to reveal long, royal-blue hair and piercing wine-colored eyes that slanted toward them, "Yea yea, right, on it, Master!" Extending a charcoal colored gloved arm, he waved in an arc.
Before Diarmuid could blink; balls of flames shot at them like bullets, scorching hot and detonating like bombs. Gae dearg's blade sliced through what it could, as he and Haley skidded back from the blasts. Gastly wind whooshed, irradiating the forest in a blaze, taking the enemy Master with it.
His own managed to sway the building flames away from them. Glimpsing Haley over his shoulder with scrunched brows, Lancer hurdled toward the Servant. His spears and blood were itching for battle while attempting to balance his concern for her safety. Best be rid of the enemy before others were drawn to their skirmish and involve the Lady more than she wished to be in the Grail War.
Caster himself wasn't very swift, but his movement was casual, precise. He'd deflected his spear with his staff with practiced ease. Despite being a spell-master, the man gave him the impression of a warrior. It was something to note, to be weary of, even if explosions of fire seemed to be his methods of attack.
"So, you're the Lancer of this war, eh?" Gae Dearg's blade met the earth, grass and dirt erupting in a whirlwind where the Caster once occupied.
"Indeed," he replied swiveling to face him. At the corner of his eye, Lancer spotted Haley trailing them from behind. Her eyes were darting, as if keeping a keen lookout for the Master that'd disappeared.
Good, he needn't continue sending thoughtful glances her way, and instead should focus on his target in this obnoxious game of cat and mouse. Caster was blathering, slinging words like a sword in cadence with flames spewing from those strange letters. It was almost uncanny. Twice now he fell victim to chattering Caster Servants. At least this one wasn't a heretic. Well, maybe, not.
I need to lure them to the streets. Being pinned between the trees is dulling my skill with the spear. Diarmuid thought, sidestepping a barrage of firepower.
"Let's see ya dodge this!" Caster's whirl of his staff was all too familiar, it was something Diarmuid would do with his own two spears. The movement was so nimble, that he half expected him to hurtle it like a javelin, though instead he slammed the end of the pole into the dirt.
A blaze scorched between Lancer and Haley, combusting so vigorously that he'd been consumed by the fire to the point of actual pain. He ejected from his position, as his Master bellowed,
"Lancer at your feet! Runes!"
Her warning was untimely, yet not disadvantageous. Gae Dearg's blade met the "f" inscription in the dirt, and while the tornado of fire was not nullified, it's powerful effects were dampened just enough to escape their deadly torrent.
From this distance, Diarmuid could make out Haley's posture sag in relief, though there was little time for pause. Be alert my Lady, the enemy Master!
Like a phantom ready to swallow its unsuspecting victim, their adversary emerged from the darkness. The temperature in the air went frigid, sharper than any weapon he'd harness, slashing cleanly across his Master's belly. Scarlet showered the grass at her feet, and while dread threatened to consume him, Caster obstructed Lancers path.
Diarmuid gritted his teeth, dashing out of Caster's scope towards the highway. Having the Lady close was a mistake—it proved difficult to combat ranged attacks and defend her simultaneously. But what else could he do? Sending her away only left her open to attack from other Servants and Masters, yet having her here dangerously involved her in the battle. They discussed this, yes, but Kayneth had also been a skilled mage and he'd failed him miserably.
Evading another strike from Caster, Lancer barely managed to get Haley in his sights: thankful that while the opposing team was insistent on separating them, she held her own against the fury in which those scythes of air attempted to lacerate her.
As if sensing his apprehension, the woman shouted, "Don't worry about me, Lancer! Take care of Caster!" She cried out, just before disappearing deeper into the woods.
Exhaling, the Irishman turned his sights on the enemy Heroic Spirit charging his way. She was right, he needed to focus. Although Kayneth's ravished body and Sola-ui's severed arm threatened his sanity—he must will his faith in her ability. He swore this Grail War would be different, and he'd best damn fight like it.
—
Haley had no idea how they were trailed, found, whichever, or when the Grail War had officially even started! Course an attack was staged while she was still disoriented from her nightmare, and her Servant's scrutiny. And this Magus…
...She was like lightning. One minute there, and in a flash her rapid movement had her elsewhere. Her tenebrous attire and features allowed her to dissolve in the gloomy night. This woman was in her element while Haley was certainly not.
There was nothing the telekinetic could do without the target in her line of vision. And just what would she do? She had no weapons to manipulate, and she didn't want to give away her talents so soon. From her position behind the tree, Haley glanced towards the exchange of blows between Diarmuid and Caster.
To her, it looked like her Servant was fighting an elderly man with a walking stick, but the fury in which he spun that staff was otherworldly. He wielded it almost like a—
"Pay attention here, you twit!" Haley threw up her palms seconds too late. A thrust of wind choked the air out from her and knocked her skull against the tree trunk.
Was this what it was like to be a cartoon character; birds fluttering about your vision? Being struck so damned hard, she couldn't tell. The other Master was a blur, standing there with her arms crossed over her full chest. Her lips were tugged down, the casual amusement her Servant carried absent.
"I didn't think you'd be so weak," she said, examining her nails as if they were far more interesting, "But finishing you off now just makes the end game easier, you know?"
With her heart about to pound out of its confinements, and her consciousness slipping, Haley figured she could use the elements to her advantage, too. Or at least, make it appear to be so. Even if the ringing in her ears refused to settle, her eyes fixed on the branches directly above the Magus' head. Struggling for breath, she willed the limbs to snap.
The woman's face whipped to the avalanche, impeccably ducking out of the way. Gasping harshly, a gust of enough oxygen released from the minor diversion and filled Haley's burning lungs. This temporary lapse gave the opportunity to mentally grasp the Magus, sending her flying across the ways, her arms and legs flailing from the unsuspected motion.
Attempting to maintain this leverage, Haley dashed upwards into the tree line. She may not be dressed to fight in the shadows, but concealing herself in the bunches of autumn leaves would have to be enough. An idea dawned on her, and she hoped it would give her and Lancer enough time to get the hell out of there.
And yes, she understood that was probably cowardly, but the Psychic never intended to be in battle. Giving her opponent a semblance of what they could do was enough. This foe was out for the kill as one would expect, and the last thing she wanted on her conscience was blood on her hands. With all her efforts, Haley withstood from killing anyone, not wanting to be the monster her bounty portrayed her to be.
Withering leaves crunched underneath the approaching Master's boots. "Come out, Master of Lancer, and by the Gods I serve, I'll make your death quick and painless."
Haley highly doubted that to be true, but willed her magic to take form. Still high in the tree, she could just make out the enemy's silhouette illuminated by Caster's fires that she'd spread. The best illusions Haley felt were those with a miniscule of truth built within them. With a wave of her hand, she spread the wildfire.
"Really? Using my own Servant's gifts against me?" Just as anticipated, the woman's affinity for air countered, attempting to blow out the flames while Haley amplified her magic.
Unceasing her combination of a falsehood firestorm engulfing her entire body, the Psychic mentally rode the velocity of the woman's winds and flooded her in a sea of flames. She made the delusion as strenuous as possible; hoping the realism of having skin blister and melt off one's bone would hold the woman long enough before she realized the truth.
The Master's eyes widened as a high pitched screech left her lips. "An...affinity for fire!? Ah...Stop...Stop!"
Haley retreated with haste, leaving the combatant's question unanswered. Let her believe she also had authority over an element. In reality, there was very little fire that remained, and none of it was burning her. Soon, the woman's cries of anguish would result in embarrassment once the Magus realized she was spinning and patting at nothing.
—
Toying with the Lancer proved amusing. Clearly the man had skill with the spear, each swing done with finesse. No blow or counter of his staff went unmatched. The weight underneath each slash, and the curve of his body made him an excellent opponent worthy of the three Knight Classes. The distance in which Cu attempted to maintain was met with speed that clearly outclassed his own. This Lancer made it difficult to draw his runes, after his Master's little revelation on the matter. He laughed, this was his preferred style of combat anyway. Only a slight bit of annoyance that'd he'd been summoned into the Caster class, instead of with a lance of his own.
Streets erupted underneath their feet as their weapons clashed again. Lancer's smile was contagious. He was enjoying their tussle just the same.
"This style is unsuited to the Caster class," He'd said, parrying an overhead strike of his weapon and answering a stab for his open gut.
Cu slanted his body, letting the enemy's blade stab and sever a street pole instead. "There are many ways the sage fights! Unlike you, one who seems to have a single trick up his sleeve."
The Lancer just shook his pretty-little-head, that confident smile radiant and unyielding, "So you may think, Caster, but—"
His quip was cut short by an intense scream that had Cu's head whipping behind him, "CASTER!"
Lancer lowered his spear, as if contemplating and then settling on something just as quickly. A frown settled on his lips, "It would seem your Master is under distress."
Cu's glare was murderous, "We aint finished here, next time, I'll kill ya." Lancer only grinned as Caster hurriedly returned to spirit form.
Woodlands became indistinct from the ferocity in which he travelled to his Master's location. He glimpsed the speck that was Lancer's Master leaping from tree to tree. Whatever she'd done, he'd repay tenfold once he rescued his—
What the hell was she doing?
Coming to a casual stop on top of a tree limb, Cu leaned forward on his haunches, distinctly under the impression his Master had gone mad. The young woman was rolling in the grass, clutching and slapping at herself.
"Master," he said in a stern tone, her wails only increasing, begging him to put the flames out. Caster cocked his head, as the flecks of heat went out, "Master." he said again, a bit loudly as she pleaded for him to help her, "Naima! It aint real, whatever you're seeing."
Dropping next to her, the woman's rolling ceased when he poked her head with the butt of his staff, "See? Nothing there."
Her eyes still remained haunted, as she blinked furiously and eased herself into a sitting position, "Vataklei, nikal le," she muttered in her language, "Did that little Kutti…"
"You speaking your native language all angry is cute."
"Shut up, Caster. I've just been bested, tricked. What shame I bring upon me and my family, to be fooled so easily."
Laughing, Cu Chulainn extended his hand to the little lady, "It's alright, we'll get 'em next time. I don't sense the Lancer's presence anymore." Yes, it seemed they both had been duped.
Exclaiming in disgust, his Master took his hand and stood. Her forehead wrinkled, as she set her hands on her hips. "After all that trouble tracking her with our Familiar from the church, too."
Cu just shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head, "Next time, woman. At least we got a feel of what they can do."
Naima huffed a breath, her cheeks going round like a chipmunks. It was so enticing, Caster had to poke the crevice in her cheek. She batted his touch away, her glare daunting enough that even monsters would scatter, which resulted in his laughter. She was always so dang serious. It was going to be fun teasing the hell out of her.
—
Haley exited the forest, panting like a dog, and waved Diarmuid down. He promptly dissolved into Spirit form, resurfacing in a kneel before her, one hand at his side, the other over his thigh, "I was unable to defeat Caster," he murmured, honey orbs gloomily cast to the disheveled roadway.
Crouching down, she placed a tentative hand on his, "It's okay. You kept him at bay while I distracted his Master, that's enough, Lancer," she said softly, noting how his attention darted to their joined hands before pulling away. He had flinched at her amiable touch earlier at the car, too. She'd have to ask him about that later. "Come on, the illusion I told you about will wear off any second, we should go, before they come back."
Her Servant nodded, while she and he darted to the opposite side of the highway. She thought it best to go deeper into the surrounding area, and they travelled in a welcomed silence. It let her gather her thoughts on the event that just transpired.
Somehow, their enemies found and challenged them, and they barely made it out by the skin of their teeth. At least the enemy seemed to believe their ruse that she was a scared little girl. It was damn luck that the illusion magic worked too, and Caster actually cared about his Master's wellbeing enough to vacate their fight. If he hadn't...well, surely Diarmuid would have been able to bring them victory eventually.
Which made her wonder just what he thought of the skirmish. Technically, that was their first real fight in the war. Slowing to a stop, Haley dug into her jeans pockets, and fished out her phone. The screen was shattered, but lit despite the obvious damage. And just as she expected, there was a text from Briscella that read,
The final Servant was summoned tonight. Be on alert, dork.
Her hand found her face with a loud thwack. Of course that message came when she had been asleep! If only she checked her damn inbox before driving away. Maybe then they wouldn't have been ambushed so easily.
"Something the matter, Master?" Diarmuid's voice was carried in the nippy draft, as Haley pocketed her smartphone.
"Briscella sent me a message, saying the Holy Grail war had commenced and I completely missed it. If I had read it, we probably would have been more prepared," She grabbed her arm and worried her lower lip, "I'm sorry, Lancer. Tonight sucked."
Materializing next to her, Diarmuid bent his arm over his chest and bowed slightly, eyes closed, "Forgive me for my failure today as well. I swear to you on my honor as a Knight, that I shall not lose focus again."
What did that mean? "Huh, when did you lose focus?"
Lancer looked away, his gaze as somber as his tone, "Against Caster, My Lady. I...was so concerned for your safety I lost sight of the battle before me." His attention lowered to the shred in her clothes and she couldn't help fidgeting under the pure sorrow in his expression, "I should have protected you better. I am grievously sorry."
The corner of her lips raised. Maybe she had done the job of pretending to be weak a little too well.
Haley shoved her hands into her pockets to shield them from the cold, "That's not true. I got hurt because of my own stupidity, but Lancer," His eyes met hers, and as much as she wanted to hug him to remove whatever was worrying him, she didn't. She could tell there was something that extended past their squabble that was bothering him, but now wasn't the time to push.
So she said, "I'm glad that you care, but I meant what I said when we made our plans before all this happened. Despite not wanting to fight, I can defend myself. So please don't worry to the point that it affects you on the battlefield."
"Understood, Master."
Nibbling at her lower lip again, Haley took in the area one last time. Tall trees surrounded them, their leaves rustling in the wind. It didn't seem that there would be civilization for a few miles. Finding shelter should be a priority now that the car was—
"Oh shoot," she blurted, Lancer angling his head in concern; Groaning, the telekinetic rubbed at her temples. "We are so dead, Lancer. We are so, so dead."
The Heroic Spirit tensed, searching the forest for the danger, "What is it?"
"We are so going to meet Briscella's wrath for demolishing her car."
ooooooooooooo
This was a struggling chapter to write. I love fight scenes, but writing them can be difficult when there is very little source material for Caster Cu, and even less things Diarmuid can actually do with his close combat skills. Then you got putting into the narrative Haley's illusion magic. Throw in another Master and giving this character different forms of magic that is fate canon requires so much research—that making this battle convincing was extremely arduous for me. I was going for this story to be more character driven than focus on the war, but with everything that happens, I can't skip or gloss over these fights. Idk how the fate people do it lol Anyway, hopefully yall enjoyed this chapter, and wanna keep reading to see just how this develops. See you next time!