Fate and Percy Jackson and The Olympians are not my property, rights belong to their respective creators, the only thing mine is this story.
With nothing else to say, I hope you enjoy it.
(-)
Caster had done it now.
His contract as Master and Servant had been formalized, and with it, a new connection established between them. Caster could now feel something more than simple vaguely transmitted thoughts; he could read Shirou's emotions as if they were pages of an open book, each word written clearly in his mind.
At that moment, Shirou was overwhelmed by anxiety. The flaming seals of a winged dagger in his left hand unsettled him, their glow reflecting the entrance to an unknown world, a magical battlefield filled with dangers and unimaginable challenges. The dancing flames seemed to whisper warnings to him as they twisted in his palm, reminding him of the perilous journey he was about to undertake.
"Your wish has been heard," declared Caster, crossing his arms, his voice resonating with authority and determination. "Our contract is sealed, and our participation in the Holy Grail War confirmed. However, I must warn you once again that the path you have chosen is dangerous and treacherous. In this war, enemies lurk in every shadow, and any mistake could be fatal. An enemy Servant or Master could end our lives at any moment, without warning."
Caster arched an eyebrow at the boy, his penetrating gaze assessing every nuance of his expression, searching for signs of strength and weakness. "Furthermore, to resurrect the dead, one must be willing to walk straight into hell without knowing the dangers that lurk."
Fear gripped the boy's heart, the tension of his break from reality emanating toward Caster in palpable waves, like ripples distorting the air around them. "But still, can you continue?"
Shirou staggered, feeling the weight of responsibility and the danger looming over him. His lips trembled and his eyes filled with tears, a reflection of the internal struggle he faced. However, despite the emotional storm engulfing him, his voice resonated with unwavering determination. "Yes, I won't run away."
Caster frowned at that response, his sharp mind detecting the complex layers of the boy's psyche. He could feel the boy's fear as if it were his own, a sensation that was both familiar and disturbing. It was natural for fear to grip him in such a dangerous situation, but beneath that fear, he detected something more sinister and dangerous: a deep desperation, a dark abyss that Shirou could barely glimpse the bottom of. There was nothing to lose, only much to gain. Like a wild beast pushed to the edge of the abyss, the boy was willing to do whatever it took to succeed.
But he was still just a child, reminded Caster. And as evidence of the fragility of his humanity, he observed his own hand. The edges of his fingers were slowly beginning to crumble, gradually turning into a radiant blue dust. He focused with determination, and his fingers solidified again.
"I'll accept your determination, boy, but I won't acknowledge you as my Master," declared Caster boldly, his tone firm but not devoid of understanding.
"What?" Shirou reacted instantly, not expecting those words from Caster. For a moment, a wave of panic threatened to flood his mind, fearing that his companion would abandon him in the midst of the impending war.
"Relax. I don't intend to leave you," Caster interrupted with a gesture of his hand, dispersing motes of blue dust in the air. "As you can clearly see, here I am crumbling."
Shirou narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the situation. "What is this?"
"Prana," Caster responded matter-of-factly. "Essentially magical energy. Servants' bodies are made entirely of it. Remember, Servants are not like normal humans. Our bodies are constructs of magical energy designed to house a copy of our souls from the Throne of Heroes, the database of all heroic deeds."
Much of the magical jargon bounced off Shirou's head, but somehow he managed to grasp the essence. "So, why are you falling apart?"
"Because my Master is a complete novice in sorcery," Caster scoffed with a slightly exasperated expression. "Listen, kid, Masters are supposed to provide their Servants with magical energy to sustain our existences. Without magical energy, we would be powerless and simply fade away."
Caster pointed to the marks on Shirou's hand. "That's what those command seals mean too, a connection between Master and Servant to facilitate the transfer of prana."
"So, the reason you're falling apart is... me?" Shirou blinked, a mix of guilt and concern crossing his face.
"To put it bluntly, yes. Currently, I'm not receiving any of your prana at all," Caster responded calmly.
Shirou slammed his hands on the table and stood up, realization hitting his mind with force. "Isn't that really bad?!"
Caster smiled, admiring the boy's initiative. "It's good to see you have some initiative, kid." Then, his expression grew more serious. "It's true, in our current condition, any average Servant with a novice Master could defeat us. I only have a fraction of my strength, also because I was summoned in the 'Caster' class, which greatly complicates our chances of survival."
The man's voice sounded mockingly livid, but his face showed no signs of a smile. He hit the table with the palm of his hand. "Knowing all this, you must understand why I still can't recognize you as my Master, right?"
Shirou furrowed his brow in silence, his thoughts troubled by confusion and uncertainty. Grimacing, he wiped snot and tears from his face, feeling ashamed of his own vulnerability in that moment of weakness. "What do I have to do then?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper amid the tension filling the room.
"Nothing," Caster replied, his tone serious and thoughtful. Shirou was confused by his Servant's response, preparing to speak, but the adult cut in. "It's not to belittle, but I can't force you to plan every move and strategy, that would be madness," he explained calmly. "Although... You'll also have a say in these decisions, I won't force you to do anything against your morality."
Shirou's gaze met Caster's, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity. Doubt invaded his heart as he wondered if he could truly trust his Servant.
"Caster, can I trust you?" he finally asked, his voice trembling with the emotional tension overwhelming him.
Silence filled the room as the night grew darker, enveloping them in an atmosphere charged with uncertainty. Shirou continued to gaze at his Servant, anxiously awaiting a response to his question. His muscles tensed, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. After all, this was the man who had witnessed impassively the murder of a person before his own eyes.
"I wondered that myself," exhaled Caster with a long sigh, his voice full of deep melancholy.
Shirou's heart squeezed at the man's words, feeling a strange connection with his Servant in that moment of shared vulnerability.
"Tell me, do I seem trustworthy to you?" Continued Caster, his bitter smile reflecting the weight of his own past actions. "No, I suppose not. You'd have to be crazy to trust me blindly after seeing what I'm capable of."
Both found their gazes returning to the living room, where shadows danced on the walls as mute witnesses to the tensions enveloping them. They recalled the scene of Caster killing the assassin. Perhaps Shirou knew nothing about sorcery, but he was sure Caster had used magic to prolong the man's suffering, a grim testament to his Servant's abilities.
"I won't ask the impossible or tell you to trust me completely. But you must understand that if you truly want to reclaim those who were taken from you, I am your only option," said Caster firmly, his voice resonating with a mixture of determination and realism.
Shirou shuddered at the harsh truth, feeling the overwhelming weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. He couldn't deny his helplessness in the face of the strange events looming ahead, and the tragedy of tonight was proof enough of his profound sense of inadequacy.
"So," spoke Caster, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them. "What will it be, Master?"
Shirou's stomach churned with anxiety as he grappled with his own doubts and fears. He had never faced such a crucial decision before, and the pressure to make the right choice threatened to overwhelm him. "Alright," he suppressed his hesitation, forcing the words through his clenched lips. "I'll trust you, Caster."
"Very well," began Caster, but Shirou interrupted him with determination.
"But in return," Shirou continued, looking his Servant directly in the eyes, putting all the trust he could muster in his face. "Promise me. You'll do everything in your power to win us the Grail."
Caster smiled ironically, almost impressed by the boy's bravery. "I can promise that. So it's good to work with you, Master."
Shirou's narrowed eyes met Caster's, his expression serious but determined as he finished the last bite of his breakfast. "Don't call me Master if you don't mean it. Just call me Shirou. Although, phew, it's good to work with you too."
"Hmm, then Shirou it is," nodded Caster, taking the boy's finished plate to the sink and beginning to clean it meticulously.
Shirou watched as his Servant attended to household chores with impressive efficiency, wondering what new challenges awaited them now that they had made this crucial decision. "So what should we do now?" he asked, his mind spinning with possibilities and concerns.
"We'll leave as soon as possible. Pack your things and bring only the essentials. We travel light," said Caster determinedly, his voice firm and decisive as he formulated a plan of action.
"Wait, what? Where are we going?" asked Shirou, frantically rising from his chair, feeling a wave of anxiety at the sudden idea of leaving his home.
"We can't stay here. Like I said before, without prana, I'm powerless. An enemy could come for us at any moment. We have to secure a prana source as soon as possible," explained Caster without blinking, conveying the urgency of the situation with his words.
Shirou's eyes narrowed with concern as he processed the gravity of the situation. "When will we be back then?" he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty about the future.
Caster inclined his head, contemplating the boy's distressed words. "Perhaps after the war, if we're still alive," he replied frankly, aware of the weight of his words and the difficulties that lay ahead on their journey.
Shirou's eyes widened at the grim prospect of the uncertain future that awaited them. Asking a child to leave the home of his childhood was perhaps a drastic and abrupt measure, but it was their best option for survival in this world full of dangers and unimaginable challenges. He accepted the reality with resignation, knowing there was no turning back on his decision.
"We're leaving in fifteen minutes, so pack quickly," said Caster, dismissing the conversation and leaving the room with determination.
Shirou clenched his fist with determination, feeling the weight of his destiny resting on his shoulders. He knew he couldn't afford to hesitate now. Taking a deep breath, he rose from the table and rushed to his room to prepare for the journey that awaited them.
(-)
Perhaps Caster could have treated his Master with more delicacy, he reflected as his gaze wandered into the reflection of his own face in the mirror. But in his mind, he knew he couldn't afford to be gentle with the boy. This Holy Grail War demanded determination and toughness; there was no place for warm sentimentality in the upcoming battles.
He vaguely recalled his own experiences in past wars, deals made with naivety that never ended well. The physical scars may have healed over time, but the emotional ones still lingered, grim reminders of the horrors and losses he had suffered in the past.
But still, reasoned another part of Caster, his Master, Shirou, was still just a child. An innocent and defenseless child, too vulnerable amidst the brutality of this war. And yet, in the cruel world they lived in, even demigod children had to face the ruthless reality of violence and death.
Caster frowned at this wayward thought, and an equally disgusted face stared back at him.
He was currently in the parents' bedroom, scowling at his own reflection in a full-length mirror next to the dresser. It was his first chance to properly examine his attire.
Caster wore an elegant robe with blue and silver hues adorned with subtle constellation patterns, and a magical belt, decorated with Greek enchantments, accentuated his waist, while his sandals bore engraved mystical symbols.
Although his attire was fine, it left a bitter taste in Caster's mouth. Why hadn't the Holy Grail summoned him with his armor? That annoyed him greatly, but not as much as the fact that he didn't have his sword, Riptide, with him; instead, he only had his magical staff. What was the Holy Grail thinking?
No matter how much he complained, Caster knew it wouldn't solve anything.
Now, as for his attire, Caster couldn't wear it outside tonight. The outfit alone was too conspicuous, a clear indication of his status as a Servant. Tonight's journey focused on stealth and avoiding contact with other Masters and Servants.
He closed his eyes and with a thought, dissipated his clothes into a burst of blue dust. He opened the parents' wardrobe and picked out some clothes. His eyes scanned the array of choices, but he ultimately settled on a formal black suit. It was the most practical attire for the functions he desired. Ready for combat and easy to reinforce. The fact that black was the ideal stealth color at night was just an added bonus.
He gracefully donned the suit. Miraculously, it fit him perfectly. Almost as if it were tailor-made to fit his body type. He glanced at his peripheral, at the man's resting body.
Caster looked at the mirror, although he had some strikingly similar features to Shirou's father, he knew they weren't enough to patent him as the boy's relative.
Caster's breathing became too calm and slow; he leaned against a piece of furniture as he began to use Prana that started to direct on his face, a small drip was heard, Caster's face began to melt in a slow but steady manner. The raven black rearranged his face, as it returned to normal, looking again at the mirror, his face had changed, now he had Japanese features and his complexion had changed a bit to a more gaunt one.
He could simply use mist to change his physical appearance, but he also didn't know the competition, he wouldn't be surprised if there were more demigods in this war, he simply couldn't take it lightly, besides, wasn't it better to be safe than sorry?
Caster finished tying his tie and looked into the mirror. He clicked his tongue and tousled his slicked-back hair. He loosened the bangs and let them fall over his forehead to conceal a small fraction of his face. The less people saw it, the better. It also had the added effect of increasing his resemblance to his Master.
Shirou was too young to be out on the streets of Fuyuki in the middle of the night without arousing suspicions. So, Caster would have to walk alongside the boy, posing as some kind of relative.
If it weren't for this task, he would simply remain in spiritual form and wouldn't bother with wearing normal clothes.
He found a small gray canvas bag and filled it to the brim with spare clothes, wallets, and the parents' keys. He cautiously looked at the two bodies resting on the bed. He solemnly nodded his head. "I'll borrow some things. I hope you can understand..."
There was no response, but of course, Caster hadn't been expecting one. He was fully aware of the futility of the act, but still felt he had to say it. A final respect to the people whose blood brought him into this world.
"The road ahead will be difficult; your son will be in significant danger, but... I'll take care of him as best I can, this old man swears," he whispered.
Two pairs of closed eyes silently watched as Caster left the room. The last of the room's light faded with the silhouette of the man.
(-)
I don't have much to say, I guess sorry for the inactivity, but I've had to do a lot these weeks, which has made me not have much time to write.
