Artoria knelt next to her mother's unconscious body, lifting her head from the floor and placing it on her lap. She wiped the blood that dripped from Igraine's brow, she had never wished to see her mother in such a state, and now, all she could do was tremble. Artoria looked around them for a phone, recalling that she had dropped her purse when the blast threw her on the floor. She couldn't find her mother's purse or phone anywhere she looked, which is when she noticed Ninsun lying on the cobbled path, dark skin also covered in hundreds of bloody lacerations. Ninsun too was unconscious and there was still no phone in sight.

"Artoria?" Glass crunched behind her, causing her to jump and turn, careful not to cause her mother any further harm.

"Who's there?" Her voice came out as a hoarse cry. She was a mess, covered in cuts, bruises and now she was in distress. Her dress had tears and cuts as well, tiny glass shards covering it here and there like dangerously sharp glitter.

From the archway she had run in through, she saw the silhouette of a tall man, and once he stepped into the moonlight, she could clearly see who it was. He was clad in a black suit, golden hair falling loosely over his head, and there was a thin cut on his cheek right below his piercing red eyes. He looked rather untouched, unlike their surroundings that were destroyed in the blast, or how the ladies looked.

"Gilgamesh…" Artoria mumbled under her breath. "What…" She stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open. "What's going on?"

Gilgamesh continued his way towards her, glass crunching and shattering underneath his italian leather shoes. Artoria sat slightly dumbfounded at his reaction. For the fact that his mother lay unconscious and hurt, he seemed rather calm which unnerved her greatly.

Wearily she eyed his every step, prepared for whatever he might try to pull. Was he also a master? He wouldn't willingly hurt his mother, would he? From what Artoria had heard from the grape vine, she wouldn't put it past him. Artoria's eyes flickered to Ninsun.

Gilgamesh stopped once he reached Artoria. Gently he reached out to her, offering his hand. It was an odd situation, Artoria would admit, Gilgamesh barely spared a glance to his unconscious mother and his attention was placed solely on Artoria herself.

Artoria stared at his hand and spared him a glance before she began turning back to her mother. In the moments she'd analyzed Gilgamesh, he didn't seem like a threat she couldn't handle. He didn't let her turn her back to him, however, he took a rough hold of her jaw and forced her gaze back up to him.

"It's always easier to kill the masters first," he all but growled. His red eyes seemed to glow with power and mischief.

A fear unlike any other had settled in her very core, the reality of murder was dangling above her and her mind ran at a mile per second. Artoria's green eyes widened and a chill ran down her spine, causing goosebumps to flutter through her arms. Diarmuid was much too far and in the middle of a fight to come to her aid, and she was much too injured to run. Instead, her hand gripped a rather long shard of glass from what was previously the ceiling.

"Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Put it down," Gilgamesh instructed with a calm voice as he crouched down to her level, never once letting his grip from her face lighten. "You wouldn't want to hurt yourself, now would you?"

Artoria let her grip on the glass loosen until it clattered next to her. Gilgamesh's hold on her chin had become his hand around her neck and he forced her to stand slowly as he stared into her eyes. He eyed her over a few times so as to make sure she had no weapon on her before he gave her a smile.

"What do you want?" She spat.

Gilgamesh grimaced at her attitude. "You could at least be nicer, couldn't you, princess? I do quite literally have your life in my hands."

Arturia glared at him, anger and poison laced in her stare.

His hand squeezed around her neck enough to cause her to cough. "I hadn't pegged you for a master. Of course, the Pendragons have always been a house of magic, but I thought after the death of Arthur, you'd been shielded from all that."

Artoria's heart thumped louder and she froze in place. "What?" She croaked, "What do y—"

A blur of blue passed before her and Gilgamesh's grip had been ripped off her neck (his nails not failing to scratch her in the process) as he flew back and hit a tree, a horrid crack of bark resonated in her ears. Artoria watched horrified as Gilgamesh fell to the floor with a loud thud. Everything around her melted and all she could see was Gilgamesh groaning in pain but picking himself back up as he wiped his mouth with his gloved hand.

Artoria couldn't hold herself up as she gasped for fresh air, the floor seemed to sway below her feet and she would've collapsed had it not been for her servant taking a hold of her arms.

Artoria's sight had blurred over (don't be mistaken, not with tears). She was in a daze as she looked up at the man that steadied her. He didn't come into focus, it wasn't something cheesy like that, instead Artoria looked back at Gilgamesh who seemed to be the only thing constant in her sight. Another flash of colour, this time magenta, came and settled in front of the man, then turned to face Artoria.

"Master? Master." Diarmid's voice was buried under the sea of confusion and barely fazed Artoria or snapped her out of whatever enchantment had held her mind.

Finally everything settled back into focus and the assertive voice of her servant was the first thing she properly heard. Artoria turned to him, fear in her eyes as her frame shook. The reality of it all hit her the moment she'd seen Gilgamesh's body fly through the air as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. The war was real.

Artoria watched as Rider took a step towards her but was stopped by Gilgamesh's grip on her arm. She wasn't able to over hear what he'd said, but at this point, she wasn't willing to stick around and find out. She pushed Diarmuid away from herself and steadied herself.

Pick her up, she instructed her servant and he seemed to ponder whether to pick Igraine up or Artoria herself. He nodded and did as instructed, picking up Artoria's mother from the glassy cobbled floor.

"You're already leaving?" Gilgamesh spat. "I would've never guessed you were such a coward."

Artoria ignored the remark and took a deep breath. "I suggest you tend to your mother as well." She glanced at him before she led her servant out of the botanical gardens.

"I'll have your servant's head by the end of the week, Artie," Gilgamesh called.

Artoria spared him one last glance. "I'd like to see you try." She stopped entertaining his comments as she limped her way through the debris with Diarmuid following close behind as he carried Igraine, her unconscious body limp as her arms swayed and her head was in a horribly uncomfortable position over Diarmuid's forearm.

The night felt nearly eternal as they returned to the comfort of Artoria's Victorian home. The darkness of the entrance room engulfed them and it was only once Artoria had closed the door behind Diarmuid and her mother that she let herself fall to the floor. The stinging pain in her feet had become unbearable and she couldn't force herself to go on any further.

Aithusa had come running down the wooden stairs in a rush to greet her owners before Artoria had told her to go back to bed. Of course the dog did not once listen to her as she went up to her to lick her face.

"Set her down on the couch first," Artoria instructed Diarmuid as she leaned back onto the front door, paying little attention to her dog. Diarmuid didn't quite have a poker face and she could tell he didn't want to leave her alone and would rather tend to her. "Go."

"Yes, master." Diarmuid gave a curt nod before he rushed to the living room, Aithusa following right behind him. It didn't take long for him to emerge from the doorway of the living room (Aithusa opting to stay with Igraine) and before she could say something else, he hurried to her side and dropped to his knees next to her.

Artoria looked up at him through her unruly bangs. She was awfully tired, her wrists ached from the horrible fall she'd taken and every muscle in her body screamed at her. Artoria looked at the hand where the master seals remained and rubbed off the remaining makeup she'd previously used to cover the up. "I would prefer you clean my mother up," she mumbled as her mind fell blank.

"I cannot comply with that, master, your health comes first." Diarmuid's voice was stern. His stare was grave and she knew he wouldn't back down.

"Very well, then. There's a first aid kit in the kitchen by the stove, get it for me."

Instead of leaving to get the kit, Diarmuid picked her up from the floor in a princess style, much like he'd picked up her mother. One arm held her back in place and another held her legs. As she was lifted from the ground, Artoria squeaked, embarrassingly so, if she had to admit.

"I request you put me down this instant," she coughed.

"Forgive my imprudence, but I would rather not leave you alone," he deadpanned as he walked her to the kitchen. "It is never wise to leave an injured master by themselves, especially when one has caused the injury."

"What?" Artoria tilted her head once he set her on the marble countertop of the kitchen island. "You didn't cause my injuries."

"Had I not left you alone, this wouldn't have happened…" he replied as he walked towards the stove, bending down to look at one of the cupboards. It wasn't more than a minute until he found the red satchel. He set it down next to his master as he looked through it for tweezers and bandages.

"Personally, I think you made the right call," Artoria mumbled. "I can do it myself." She reached for the tweezers in his hand but he drew his hand away from her.

"I can do this much, master."

Artoria glared at him. "I can do it," her tone was strict.

Diarmuid reluctantly handed her the tweezers. "If you so insist."

Artoria managed to lift her foot to her knee and began to pull out the dozens of glass shards that were dug into her feet. With every shard she removed, she winced in pain and sucked in sharp breaths. Her feet were a mess, covered in blood and dirt. Diarmuid had filled a bowl with warm water and taken one of the kitchen towels, offering them to her so she could wipe the blood and dirt.

Artoria dabbed the wet cloth on her foot with a few grunts of pain. The blood had already dripped onto the floor and she made note to clean it later. It took possibly twenty minutes to clean her feet but once she did, she sprayed hydrogen peroxide and let her feet dry before she bandaged them.

Artoria had let Diarmuid help her with bandaging and with cleaning her knees and shins of any dirt or glass before he further helped her with her wrists. It wasn't until he'd held her right wrist that she noticed it was swollen. Pain coursed through her arm as he placed a bandage around it, but she swallowed it. Artoria took a few painkillers (much more than she needed) and a glass of water to stop the pain in her legs.

It was only after Diarmuid had checked her over once more and poured the bloody water in the sink that they proceeded to the living room to tend to Igraine's lesions.

"I think we should leave," Artoria spoke as she cleaned her mother's face with a now bloody cloth. "If we stay any longer my family might be put in danger."

"Where shall we go?" The tall servant asked. He was leaning over the couch, watching her carefully tend to her mother's wounds.

Artoria looked up at his amber eyes. "I don't know, but we leave tonight."

A war was a war and there would always be casualties, but if she could save her family from it, she was willing to do whatever it took. As she packed a bag of clothes all Artoria could think of was the possibility of never coming back home. Leaving home wasn't anything like those children's books that were filled with adventures and making friends, it would be a bloody and horrid affair and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared.

Artoria made sure to take the spell book and a few gems that were in the storage room, as well as a few of the other relic-like objects that could fit in her bag. She had to become useful, whether she liked it or not.

Artoria took one last look at her room before she closed the door and took her time to engrave the comfort of her home into her mind. Once she made it to the foyer, Aithusa had come back to see her. Artoria walked into the living room and kissed her mother's forehead before her eyes caught sight of the sword above the fireplace. She instructed Diarmuid to take it down before she walked back to the entrance. Artoria kissed her dog goodbye and looked at her mother through the living room doorway once more.

"Master?" Diarmuid furrowed his brows as he looked down at her, handing her the sword she'd asked for.

She spared him a short glance before she opened the front door. "I'm ready now."