"How go the preparations?" the king inquired, stepping into the dimly-lit chamber that had been set aside for the pending ritual.
"All preparations are complete," the ever-reliable wizard replied with a bow. "We can begin whenever you are ready."
Six knights accompanied their king into the chamber to play their parts in this crucial procedure. Seven circles of mystical runes had been drawn in a larger circle around the space. Not one of the king's retinue understood any of the symbols that composed these circles, but they did recognise that each was a unique construct with a specific meaning and purpose. They each trusted the man that had drawn them up to know what he was doing. After all, the very future of Britain may well depend upon this ritual's success.
"Let us not waste any time, then," the king decided, stepping forward. "No doubt, Morgan is preparing her own ritual at this very moment, and I would not put it past her to put together two teams for herself."
"Assuming the Grail would allow such an occurrence, the summoned Ruler-class Servant would likely intervene," the wizard reassured the king as best he could.
The king only nodded a small reassurance in his confidence as she loosed the cloak from around her shoulders, revealing the full set of armour and legendary sword with which she would be conducting this ritual. "Where would you like me?" Artoria Pendragon asked.
"Yours is the one at the far side here," Merlin explained, pointing to the circle he had drawn up specifically for the king to make use of. He guided each of the six knights to their own pre-determined circles, each man ready to fulfil his role for the future of their nation. Each had been hand-chosen by the king to take part in this conflict, knowing full-well that their lives would be in greater danger than ever before by becoming the prime targets for the rival faction. Even had Sirs Mordred, Gareth, and Gaheris not been away completing their own duties, the men chosen would not have changed. Only Sir Kay's absence had any impact upon Artoria's chosen roster.
Artoria had known of the 'Holy Grail Wars' since long before now. But having been born after the Fifth Grail War had already concluded, their history and rules had been completely irrelevant to her, until Merlin received a premonition of the impending commencement of the sixth such conflict. This century's Grail War was a team-focused battle with two teams of seven 'Masters' and 'Servants' vying for the Grail and its powerful wish-granting magic. Having little doubt that the wicked Morgan le Fay had been gifted with the same premonition (as was standard for higher-level magi as a Grail War dawned) Artoria had put Merlin to work preparing to arm her and the Knights of the Round Table with summoned Servants of their own to combat Morgan's nefarious schemes.
The exact nature of the Grail Wars was still being slowly uncovered with each successive iteration. The rules and structures changed routinely - some saw seven Master/Servant duos vying for the Grail, while others saw teams of such duos uniting in common cause for the same. The Wars had begun back during the first century, supposedly a short time following the resurrection and ascension of Christ. Each century since had seen a new Grail War be waged; each in a different place, at a different time within that century. The Grail itself would grant those especially knowledgeable in the mystic arts a vision to mark the commencement of the War's preparational phase, signalling for them to set about gathering the necessary materials to summon their Servants from the Throne of Heroes.
How the competitors were chosen from among the innumerable hopefuls that attempted to compete remained unknown. As did the hows and whys of the time and place in which each War was fought. They were not even held at a consistent point within each century; there simple was one within each century of the Julian calendar. Merlin could sense that this War was to take place here in Britain at around this time, but much beyond that remained a mystery. Many across the Christian world believed the Wars to be a divine test established by God himself to test humanity's virtues by presenting them with access to a genuine miracle that they would either use for the greater good or abuse for their own ends.
Artoria had put little thought, thus far, into what specifically she would wish for should her Blue Faction emerge the victor. But she knew that it would be in service of Britain and its people that she would fight and win and make her wish upon the Grail. That was all she could ever need the Grail's miracle for.
Everything was now in place, according to Merlin, to begin the ritual to gather the force that would wage and win this War. No doubt, they would be opposed by Morgan, being such a powerful witch with designs for the throne, and whatever allies she could gather up to accompany her as Masters of the Red Faction. Discussion of Merlin's potential as a Master of Blue had begun early and ended promptly, the wizard choosing to leave the fighting to those more suited to the task. Thus, the seven Servants would be contracted to Artoria and six of her most trusted knights, as dictated by the dully-glowing circles by which they each now stood.
"Each of you now stand by a circle that has been carefully chosen to best mesh with one of the seven classes into which Heroic Spirits are summoned," Merlin explained as a dull humming sound rose among the circles, each now growing ever so slightly brighter with each passing second. "For Sir Gawain, the mystical Caster. For Sir Percival, the agile Lancer. For Sir Galahad, the precise Archer. For Sir Bedivere, the swift Rider. For Sir Tristan, the stealthy Assassin. For Sir Lancelot, the indomitable Berserker. And for King Arthur, the mightiest of all the classes: the sword-wielding Saber."
Artoria was about to speak up, to question the need for her to be given the mightiest class, given her access to both Excalibur, Rhongomyniad, and several other divine artefacts; but Merlin either recognised or assumed her intent and cut her off with a smile.
"All of our hopes rest upon your shoulders, Sire. Besides, I am doubtful any of our comrades here would accept the strongest Servant being paired with any but you." He looked around the room, as if encouraging the other six to express their agreement. And they did. There was a comfort in her comrades' trust in her, and their desire to keep her safe, as she did for them. But there was also a great weight there, of expectations and responsibility. But then, that weight had been her burden to bear since that day twenty years ago, when she first drew Caliburn from the stone and set her destiny into motion. Nothing had changed.
"Very well," she relented, her tone as neutral as she could manage. "I will accept this responsibility, as I always have."
"Then let us begin," Merlin declared, his smile giving way as he began seriously performing the ritual. Until the ritual succeeded, the most responsibility lay not on the king's shoulders, but upon his. He had the seven repeat an incantation, their hands held out over the catalyst that lay at the centre of their respective circle.
A catalyst, according to Merlin, was one of the more recent discoveries regarding the rules of the Grail Wars. A standard summoning would grant a randomly-selected Servant that may or may not gel with the capabilities and personality of the Master. But with the addition of an item with significance to a specific Heroic Spirit, one could lean the otherwise random selection process in favour of the figure in question.
It was fortuitous, then (or perhaps a stroke of masterful planning on Merlin's part) that such artefacts had been collected over the years by himself and the knights. There was no guarantee that any individual artefact's original owner would have ascended to the Throne of Heroes, but tipping the odds in their favour, even by only a little, was certainly not an option worth dismissing.
And in some cases here, an artefact unrelated to a legendary figure was utilised. For Artoria, it was Excalibur's scabbard, Avalon. She suspected that Merlin had chosen this specific item in hopes of increasing her chances of being paired with a Servant with greater protective capabilities, given the scabbard's immense healing power. Of course, he would never say as much aloud, lest he give the impression he felt her incapable of defending herself; rather than the more likely reality that he simply wanted to give the king a greater chance of survival in this deadly conflict.
The ritual, as far as Artoria could tell, proceeded swiftly and smoothly, culminating in the light of the circles growing bright enough to engulf the entire chamber, forcing all gathered to shut their eyes tight as their senses were overwhelmed, feeling as if they had been cast into the centre of the sun. A sudden burst of energy struck Artoria when she wasn't expecting it, winding her and knocking her off her feet. From the sounds of clattering armour around her, it seemed as if more than one of her knights was having much the same experience. At the very least, that would spare her some embarrassment, especially as her attempt to rise back to her feet before anyone could notice proved futile, thanks to the shock her body was still struggling to recover from.
Despite her closed eyes, she found that her vision was spotty and blurred when she attempted to open them. An involuntary groan of discomfort escaped her lips before she could catch it, leaving her feeling that shame would not give up its attempts until she let it have its way. But her eyes managed to adjust to the dim light of the chamber, which was now lit only by the once more faint glow of the summoning circles, a smattering of embers in the now extinguished sconces, and a pair of high windows that let in only a sliver of moonlight. But that sliver was more than enough for her to take in the sight of the man now standing before her.
He was a young man, roughly in his late twenties or early thirties. His complexion was a few shades darker than her own, and he bore a shock of spiked, vibrantly orange hair. There was a brief glint of what could be recognition, and perhaps hesitation, in his brown eyes as they met her green ones, feeling as though they remained locked with hers for untold hours. The explanation for this glint came as he opened his mouth to speak. His accent was not one she recognised, slightly stilted and with some words stressed at the wrong syllables. Through Merlin's intuition, Artoria would later learn that this marked him as a denizen of an oriental nation that would come to be known across Britain as 'Japan'. But for now, she had only her Servant's first words through which to appraise him.
"Tell me, King of Knights," he said in a tone that was at once serious and playful. "Are you worthy to be my Master?"
Something in these words struck a strange chord with Artoria. They bore an impact she could neither explain nor understand. But they compelled her, nonetheless, to rise to her feet, stand tall as the King of Britain, and answer his question with the conviction fitting one who drew the sword from the stone.
"I am," she responded, removing her left gauntlet and holding the back of her hand for him to see three blood-red shapes - Command Seals with which she could compel his obedience, had she cause to. She showed them for only a brief moment before placing that hand upon the pommel of her sword and covering her signs of Masterhood with her right hand - a symbol of her confidence in her ability to corral her Servant without such magic. "I am Arthur Pendragon, the King of Britain and your Master in this, the Sixth Holy Grail War. I would know your name, Saber of Blue, that I might understand the abilities of my Servant."
A slight smirk spread across the man's lips. "I'm not sure how much good that will do, but all the same... My name is Shirou Emiya. I've come in response to your summons... Master."
This was originally going to be just "a series of key moments" of the conflict as a way of presenting the concept, but I ended up writing far more than that (around 20 chapters, currently). But even so, some characters will get less focus than others, since nothing was planned for them. I may come back and insert extra chapters for them later on, though.
The concept for this setting requires some bending of how certain things work in Fate. Part of that is due to me not being as versed in Fate's magic systems and lore when I started writing this a few months ago as I am now (still fairly casual, I'd say). I also have little experience with the Arthurian cast outside of Artoria, Mordred, Gawain and the corruptions from the Camelot Singularity, so I may not be entirely accurate in capturing the voices of the other characters. If you can accept those alterations, hopefully, you'll be able to enjoy my little idea here.
And with all that said, Happy 20th Anniversary.
Originally, the Servant assignments were rather different, since I was aiming for duos that complimented each other in terms of abilities, rather than personalities. But as I found better choices for the Servants, the duos changed considerably: "For Bedivere, the mystical Caster. For Gawain, the precise Lancer. For Galahad, the sharpshooting Archer. For Percival, the swift Rider. For Tristan, the stealthy Assassin. For Lancelot, the overwhelming Berserker. And for King Arthur, the mightiest of all the classes: the sword-wielding Saber."