WARNING: Jeanne Alter has a messed up sense of sexuality on a good day. This is not a good day for her.

Jeanne Alter I

It was to be today.

The work of countless hours, from the moment she'd been pulled from the waters of the Rhoyne to to this very moment in front of the final pyre. The reading of ancient texts in languages she barely understood. The conversations with that saggy old hag and other priests with their heads stuffed up their arseholes. The speeches and the ceremonies. The burning of hundreds of people. The nights she woke screaming, feeling the hands of the palace reaching out to grab her and drag her back behind those walls.

All of that, all of it, was leading to this day. The day when they returned to the site of their original ritual, miles from where the monsters that hid in those walls could reach her. The day that she would send the last souls needed to the flame, the final heralds of the arrival. The day that she had seen in those flames, those six years ago.

The day that Azor Ahai would return to the world, and bring down those walls.

"WHO ARE YOU!?"

And now, with the sun sinking faster and faster, that victory was slipping through her grasp.

"Oh hey, it-ach," the young man sitting in the metal box turned his gaze from the Mummer troupe of sacrifices…"sacrifices", and smiled at her. He looked incredibly stupid as he pushed himself up, and out of the metal box, and twisted his body side to side, "One second, just need some time to stretch a bittttt," there was an audible crack, "ah, there we go."

'What?' the witch, for she had tossed away any name she may have had, just stared at the boy walking over to the Mummers. He was still facing her as he walked, waving as though somehow he knew her. She almost felt her jaw come unhinged as her followers, many of whom were much bigger than this boy, just stepped aside, seeming to gaze in wonder at him as he made his way over to the sacrifices.

"So, Emiya," he stood in front of the red wearing leader of this group, "Status report."

"Oh," the bronze man blinked, before readjusting himself straighter. He then placed his hands behind his back, "As you can see, our team is still the same as you were informed during our last call," he held his hand out, and the Witch saw the other Mummers wave,, though the woman with the darkest skin seemed to be resting her head in her hands, and the small boy was looking wearily at the newcomer, "We have located our target, though," suddenly, the taller man looked over at her too, "The target is still…you know?"

"I can see that," the boy nodded, and looked over at her as well. He stared at her for a moment, and suddenly, he could see a strange mix of emotions on his face. There was still the stupid smile all over his face, but there was something else in his eyes, something strange, that she wasn't quite sure what it was. His eyes just stayed locked on her, as he continued to speak, "So, can I get an idea of what she wants?"

Before the Mummer could open his mouth, she shouted out, "I shall tell you what I want," she smirked as she saw a scowl return to the Mummer and the rest of his party's face. Best to make sure this boy knew whose words carried real weight, "You child," she stared directly into the boys eyes, and he stared back, not seeming to react in the least to her golden pupils, "What I want, is to toss all of you mummers into this fire," she waved her hand backward, and felt her smile grow as she felt the heat of the flame rise up behind her, "And then, as your bodies burn, to return our Lord of Light here," she felt a burning in her chest as hot as the pyre itself, "To bring back Azhor Ahai!"

"PRAISE BE AZHOR AHAI!"

The throngs of her followers shouted. There were six hundred here, the chosen followers she had convinced to come for this final reckoning, this final meeting. The were from all walks of life, slaves, freedman, even foreigners. All of them wished to see the Lord of Light return, and all knew that this was to be the night it occurred.

"PRAISE BE AZHOR AHAI!"

They shouted once more, and she smirked as she looked at the Mummers. And then she felt a twitch, as they…seemed to be strangely calm. The bronze one, the woman from Yi Ti, and the western knight were standing calmly, and while the dark skinned woman and young child were showing concern, it was as they looked at the older boy. And then the boy himself…was looking around, staring at her hundreds of chanting followers, still smiling all the same.

"PRAISE BE AZHOR AHAI!"

"Fweettfwoohh."

She felt her jaw drop.

'Did this little cretin just whistle at us?' she thought, too stunned to actually just voice the thought to the crowd around her. The boy clapped his hands together, and stepped closer to her. The dark skinned woman almost made to step forward, before the blue haired man just placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked back as the boy kept slowly stepping forward, and the warrior of the west just shook his head. The dark haired woman was about to say something, before suddenly collapsing, and again resting her head in her hands.

"Why?" the red priestess could hear from the woman, "Why couldn't I get a normal master?"

"Really impressive group ya got here!" the boy announced loudly. His voice was…strange. It wasn't loud, not really, yet somehow it cut through the din, his eyes not on any of them, but rather placed squarely on her. She could feel several of her highest followers swarmed in front of her, almost all of them prepared to fight for their seer. He kept moving forward though, his smile staying on his face, "And loyal too."

"Of course!" the witch laughed, feeling some control as now there were bodies between her and this fool, "Though they aren't loyal too me, not really," she gave a second to look back at the pyre, and the dancing flames and shadows within, "They are loyal to Azhor Ahai!"

"Oh, well I'm here."

…

"What?" she stared at him. There was no way he had just said that, righ-

"I'm here," he said, almost shrugging, keeping his eyes locked on hers, and that dumb smile still on his face. She felt her jaw drop, and she would guess that were it not for the coverings over her followers' faces, their jaws would be in a similar position. From the corner of her eye, she did not seem the same shock from the Mummers, rather a mix of exasperation, shock and amusement, with the western warrior barely covering his mouth.

'This…this,' she struggled to maintain her thoughts in a proper string, 'this cretin, this ignorant shit head thought he was Azhor Ahai?'

Her jaw snapped shut, and then she snapped her fingers. The two nearest men near her suddenly rushed forward, grabbing the boy by his arms, and forcing him down to his knees. For a second, as he disappeared downward, the red priestess smirked when she saw the Mummers react. They almost immediately tensed, and suddenly weapons were at the ready once more. They had not expected that sudden show of force, and they were now reacting to her. She was in control again. She then pulled beneath her robe, and revealed a dagger, and rushed forward, placing it along the boy's neck.

"You dare say such blasphemies," she cackled, as she pushed the face of the blade against his neck, "You don't even deserve to be burned for the summoning of Azhor Ahai! I'll SLIT YOUR THROAT RIGHT NO!"

And then she felt an enormous pressure. She looked back at the Mummers, and nearly fell backward. Nothing in the realm of flesh and blood had changed, but, there was a pressure now, one that covered the entire bank of the river. Her followers were less aware, though she could feel them tense as though something was wrong. She almost felt like there was a power in the group, one so massive and terrifying that it could kill her before she twisted the blade to its edge. Her eyes caught the Bronze Mummers, and she nearly fell over at the sight of them.

'They…they're monsters,' She couldn't move, every part of her held still from the pressure. She couldn't close her eyelids or open her mouth to speak. She tried to inhale from her nostrils, but, 'I…I can't breathe,' as she continued to stare into the warrior's eyes, she saw images from before she'd been reborn in her head again, 'I…I'm going to die.'

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The pressure was gone, and she gulped down a breath of air. She began to shake, her free arm coming up around her throat and massaging it, trying to relax the muscles and allow her to breathe again. Tears began to flow from her eyes, her nostrils flared in terror. She continued to stare at the Mummers, all of whom were beside the boy were looking at her with rage in their eyes. And as they did so, she felt the need to run, to hide, to dive once more into the river once again, and this time let Mother Rhoyne take her into eternal embrace.

And then she felt a hand grip the wrist holding the blade. She knew in an instant that her followers had let go of the boy, and it was his hand gripping her now. Her body was seeped in terror, for this boy was the "Master" of these Mummers of Terror. She tried to not bring her face to meet him, eyes locked on the sands beneath her, because she dared not see the rage in his eyes that was in the rest of that group.

"Hey, calm down, you are going to get through this."

"Wha-," she lost the will to keep her face down, and her eyes met his. They hadn't changed. Nothing on his face had changed. Same mixed eyes, same stupid smile. She blanked for a second, trying to put all these things together as they should be, yet none of it, none of it made sense. She finally, barely got out the question haunting her mind, "What are you?"

"I told you," he chuckled, before forcing himself to his feet, and waving his hands out wide, "I'm Azhor Ahai."

…

"No," the witch couldn't help herself, pulling her arm out of his grip, and forcing herself back to her feet. She kept the blade pointed at him as she stepped back twice, getting a bit of distance between her and this monster, "You aren't him," she pointed the blade backward, "You are not Azhor Ahai!"

"Mayhaps," a voice spoke up from behind her. It was one of the many senior followers who stared back at her, his voice cracking as he considered what he was saying, "Mayhaps he is though great seer."

"What!?" she nearly felt her boyd jump from her skin, "How cou-"

"He came from the sky," another of her followers spoke up, a sudden clearness and forcefulness coming from that voice, "He must be a mystical being, and if he claims to be Azhor Ahai-"

The rumbling only seemed to grow from around the bank. All of her followers, once chanting at her command, were now whispering among themselves. They had all seemed to come to consider the idea that had just been proposed. And the fools were accepting it. They were accepting that this foolish boy, whatever powers his Mummers had, somehow was their savior come again. Twas insane, and she would let them know that.

"I know how Azhor Ahai comes, he comes from that Pyre at-"

She stopped, and stared at the sun in the sky. She felt fear grip her heart as she saw it almost in position. She returned her gaze to the roaring fire, and saw the dancing sparks and shadows seeming to be calling to her.

"He comes from the pyre!" she finally shrieked, "Quickly, we need to sacrifi-"

"No you don't," she turned on her heels, and stared once again into the boy's eyes. He was still smiling dumbly, though his eyes were…they were moving fast around him. She could tell he was planning something, yet she could not find in her mind what his plans were, "You don't need to burn anyone else because Azhor Ahai is standing right in front of you," he waved his hands out, showing his thin frame covered in tight trousers and tunic.

"No!" she shrieked, "I know Azhor Ahai comes from that fire at six hours and six minutes after six months of sacrifices!" she pointed at her eyes, "I saw that in the fire, I saw his hand emerge from the flames!"

"...oh," the boy leaned back, and looked at the fire, "You weren't exactly seeing something wrong, you just didn't have the time right," he then returned his faze to her, nodded, and then closed them as he smiled, "You weren't seeing me coming to the world from the flames, you were seeing me prove to you that I'm Azhor Ahai."
"U-"

"My people!" the boy shouted to the whole of the crowd, all of them turning their heads from their conversations with each other to him, "It has been many years since I last walked among the living! And yet this was still not to be my time to truly appear!"

Suddenly the whispering grew louder and more vicious. The red priestess blinked at the boy, and the sudden implication, as suddenly she felt some gazes land on her shoulders. This boy was implying she had called him early, that instead of listening to the plan, she had broken some rule, and called Azhor Ahai before his time.

'Just like the hag,' she seethed, remembering the bitch of Asshai.

"But fear not, for I understand that perhaps this might be necessary," he said aloud, and the faces all returned their gaze to him, "And certainly, for such a wise group of followers, you must be shown that I am indeed the Lord of Light," he looked around, "You are all wise after all, and in your wisdom, you would not just trust any one who would walk out and claim they are the Azhor Ahai."

The crowd began to nod, and the witch could only wonder at what this fool was attempting to do. Clearly he was attempting to lead her followers on, to convince them that not only he was Azhor Ahai, but that it was only something that they as wise followers of the faith would know. To play on their egos, and reach out to grasp the title not as a theft, but as a long held right by birth.

"For you see," he held a hand out towards her, "She is not wrong that she saw me in flames," he then smiled, and moved the hand toward the pyre, "Tis just that she did not see my arrival, but my validation by fire," he then smiled, "I shall walk into this pyre, and I shall not be burned! For who but Azhor Ahai could have such power!?"
'A full Valyrian,' she thought to herself, though from far back in the recesses of her mind a small voice spoke of how the Triarchs of the Old Blood had burned in fire like any other man. And that same sad, sick voice then began to mewl in the furthest portions of her mind, that Azhor Ahai had come, that she had already succeeded. That he was finally, truly here, in flesh and blood. The priestess did her best to push this foolish thought out of her head, when her thoughts were interrupted again.

"Master!" twas the bronze man, "I do-"

"Do not fear my heralds!" the boy cried out, "For I know I can conquer these flames!" the Mummers just stared at him, with the dark skinned woman in particular just holding her face in despair at the whole thing.

'They are clearly worried for him!' she internally screamed, 'Why can't any of these fools see how this is just a Mummers Farce, a play acted out to play to their delusions!'

"Now then," the boy marched close to the pyre, "I shall need but a moment before I enter the flames," he looked over the raging flames. Part of the witch hoped to see fear over come the boy, yet he remained the same. Finally, he smirked, and brought his hands to his chest. And then, from the angle the witch had, she heard a strange sound.

Clisp-clap.

And the strange gray clasps came undone, falling to the ground. She stared at him, and then felt a new heat rush to her cheeks as he reached his arms down, grabbed the bottom of his black tunic, and pull it over his head, revealing his bare skin. He tossed the shirt to the ground right behind him, and reached down to the top of his trousers. For a second, she could only admire the muscles of his back as they were illuminated by the twilight, before she shook her head in rage and frustration.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"Oh," the boy looked back, not even bothering to turn around, a clasp coming undone at the front of his pants, "Well, I'm taking off my clothes."

"WHY?"

"My dear," he almost laughed, "While I may be still of divine origin, my clothes clearly are not," he shook his head, suddenly pushing his trousers down so they were only barely above his knees. The Priestess was given a full view of the boy's rump, and looked away in embarrassment as he continued to speak, "If I am to keep these clothes and not walk around this world with myself fully exposed, I must make sure to take them off and leave them for when I am ready."

She nearly exploded in complete rage as she heard the whispers of conversation, that of course it was his body that was divine, and not mere threads, no matter how fine they appeared. And that it was proper of him to cover himself, only so that the masses would not wrongfully stare at him in ways that they were not worthy to. The Witch desperately wanted to shreik at them for their foolishness, but before she could, the Mummers' savior pulled his pants to his ankles.

He then ripped the trousers off completely, and turned around. The Witch was about to turn her head to avoid the sight…but then she saw something on his chest. Most of it was muscle, looking like a lesser version of some of the statues she'd seen in her time in the palaces. But…along his chest, near where his heart should be, she could see a short, black scar, that seemed irked to have to move as the boy did. For a moment, she wondered what could have caused such a wound, but a second later his shoes were off as well.

"We are thus where we need to be," he smiled, before turning his head one more time," Don't worry my heralds, just leave this to me," and then, he stepped into the fire of the pyre.

For a second, the witch had hoped he'd begin to burst out screaming, that this whole thing was just a bunch of crazy foreigners that used magic tricks to try and delay her and her followers from their rightful success. But even with half of his foot on fire, no screams of pain came from his mouth. Then, as if to drive this in even more, he put all of his other food, and indeed half his body inside the flames. Still no screaming. And then finally, the rest of his foot and body pushed forward into the flames, and within a blink of the witch's eye, the foolish boy was standing in the fire.

And he was just standing in it. There was no writhing, no screaming, no horrific pain. She could just see his image in the flames, standing still, arms resting behind the back of his head. Then, the image began to walk deeper into the pyre, and as it did so, the crowd around her erupted.

"Tis Azhor Ahai!" she heard a woman far away scream. Dozens of words with the same meaning were shouted into the sky, filling the air thick with cries and jubilation. The witch could only stare at the figure in the flames moving around, and suddenly, something seemed to return to her mind, as the figure got closer and closer to her. It was…

'Tis my vision,' she finally thought, and again she felt tears begin to pour from her eyes.

She still couldn't move. The silk was still taught around her wrists and her ankles held firm, her body suspended in the air. Her groin and rear were sore…so so sore. She'd long ago used up all her tears had long since dried up, and her throat was…

'I want to die,' she could barely keep her eyes open. She could hear the revelers around her snoring. There was only a few small bits of light illuminating the room, mostly just small bowls of fire with coals still containing some small flames within them. Her eyes focused on the nearest of the bowls, and just looked into it.

And then she saw-

A hand was sticking out of the pyre. She stared at it, just a few feet in front of her, was the figure's hand. The flames caused it to appear to be pure bla-

-ck. It was pure black. The hand was reaching for her from the flames, and the darkness and the heat should have terrified her. But unlike the hands of the men around her, it was, as though it was inviting her, trying to connect her, rather than rule her.

She was pulling against the restraints. How, she'd lost her strength long ago, yet now she felt a surge of energy she hadn't thought herself capable of. She pulled against the silk, and felt it give way. She grasped and clawed towards the hand sticking out of the coals. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of reaching she was merely inches away from the hand. With one last heave of strength, she shot her hand forward towards the hand-

and clasped it within her own.

…

'He's real,' it was as though lighting began to shoot up her arm, then spread out over to the rest of her body, 'HE'S REAL!' she shouted in her mind, as the electricity began to cover all of her body. Her broken, ruined body, now felt more alive than she had ever felt. The witch could feel tears flowing down her face, and could vaguely hear her own voice laughing and sobbing at once. Everything she had done, all the work had paid off, 'Azhor Ahai is REA-'

And then the hand yanked her forward.

"AAAGH!" she shouted, as suddenly, she was pulled into the flames.

'What's happening!' she screamed in her head, as she felt the flames set her robes alight. The heat of the inferno was overwhelming, and she desperately began to thrash to try and pull herself free, to run to the river and remove the flames from around her body. Yet despite it all, she couldn't get away, the grip of the hand stronger than anything she'd ever felt. And it was pulling her deeper into the pyre.

She reached her free hand up, her dagger lost outside the pyre, and her clothes all gone, and she grabbed at the boy's hand. She had to break his grip, or else she'd burn here. Burn and die. And yet, even as she dug her fingers into the arm holding her, so sharply that she could feel blood pooling around her nails.

"Jeanette."

And then she stopped. Even in the flames, she could see his eyes again, they were so blue, and cool, and they reminded her…they reminded her…

"I'M SO SICK OF THEM CALLING ME THAT!"

She laid back against the side of the bed, staring up at the desk she'd just fallen out of. The twelfth page of her seventh, yes seventh, doujin attempt sat unfinished. She rested her head against the top of the bed, and hugged out a sigh. She could barely keep herself even keel at the best of times, and now, stuck in this loop, and constantly having that good for nothing saint lording over her with her victories in the making manga…god, she wanted to strangle somebody.

"ESPECIALLY ANYONE WHO CALLS ME JALTER!"

"Rough going huh?"

She looked up at her fool of a Master-

'Wait, Master?'

As he handed her a bottle of soda, and sat down next to her. She almost felt like spitting at him, but shook her head, and popped the cap off the bottle, and took a large gulp. She groaned, though she was glad to have some more energy. She made to move to get back up, and then cringed at the movement. She wanted to get out of this loop if for no other reason that she could finally get out of this swimsuit. All the straps were starting to chafe.

"Only rough thing is these idiots keep calling me Jalter," she said offhandedly, "I'll kill that otaku pirate once I get out of this thing."

"So…you really don't like to be called that, huh?"

"...," she looked over at Ritsuka, who was staring at her intently. She raised an eyebrow at him, and then looked down at her drink. She sighed, before finally responding, "I hate it. Makes me sound like I'm just the alternative version of that stupid saint."

"Hmmm," Ritsuka nodded. She appreciated that he hadn't brought up the obvious fact that she was just another version of Jeanne D'Arc, though she would never say it. Best not to let the idiot think he was getting on her good side, "But isn't the full Jeanne Alter just the same sort of thing," he looked at her, "You know, saying you are just the altered Jeanne," she stopped, and then nodded at that, "So…is there any sort of name you'd like to be called. Even if just between you and me?"

"I, I don't know," she sighed, before bringing her hands to her head, "Ah! My mind is just so scrambled from writing Doujins!"

"How about Jeanette," she stopped, and looked at him. He was blushing a bit, clearly spending too much time thinking about her damn swimsuit, "You know, it's like Jeanne…but it's different, more," he stopped, trying to think of a descriptor, "More sophisticated."

She brought her fingers to her chin, and rubbed them for a moment. She considered the name for a second, and then smirked.

"Jeanette sounds like a famous author who died young and unappreciated while alive, but suddenly famous after she's gone," she felt her self smirk, "A far more mature and elegant name than that stupid saint," she then smirked at her master, "Right?"

"Yeah, obviously," he laughed,

"Fine, then you may call me-"

"Jeanette," he said again, "Please, you need to stop pulling away," he was still holding strong, though he could hear some trepidation in his voice, "If I let go of you, the fire will actually start burning you, and I won't be able to bring up the mystic code to protect you quickly enough."

"What are you talking abou-?" she was burning, she felt the heat and…and…

'Wait,' she pulled back her free hand, and brought it right up to her face, 'I'm…I'm not burning,' true, her clothes had gone up in ashes, but her body, her skin and hair was untouched by the flames. She felt her jaw drop as she realized that she was fine, and then looked into his eyes.

"What is happening?" she couldn't help but ask. This was everything she'd wanted, the hand from the fire had come and taken her, but it was also nothing like she wanted. And now, now she was being called a strange name, that at the same time felt so right. And she was remembering things that had never happened, in an outfit she'd never seen, and about something called a doujin. Her head was awash in so many things that all she could say was, "I'm so confused, I do not know what is happening."

"Jeannette, you have to remember," the boy continued to talk to her, "Please, I know you are in there. I need you to help me on this," he then brought his other hand, and covered her hand with both his hands, "You are in there. I need you to remember," and finally, she looked into his eyes, and saw that they were shaking as he spoke, "I need you-"

"Need me?" she looked back at him, him only a few feet away from her. That slut shielder stood next to him, her face scrunched up, probably upset her boytoy was talking to her, "While it's good to hear your pathetic cries for help," she smirked, and the Shielder's face scrunched even further, "What makes you think that I'll join up with your pathetic group of morons and nerds."

"Well," Chadlea's master smiled, "I think you actually would have a lot of fun," he smiled, and before she could respond, he continued, "But I've seen how strong you are. You burned that tentacle demon to a crisp," he pointed at the thing, "Turned it to fried Calamari," he laughed, "And…and I know we…I know I can't save the world without you."

"Uh," her face was suddenly very warm, as she sought to find the right words, "I," she coughed, before regaining her voice, "Fine then," she pressed her waved her hand at her face, "I shall become one of your servants," she then pulled up her best and cruelest smirk, "But know this, I shall only do so if you declare that I am your most powerful and precious servant!"

"Senpai," the Shielder sighed, "Do you really have to humor her like-"

"Mashu," Ritsuka looked back at her for a moment, and that only caused the Sheilder to sigh, and rub her temples, as he stepped forward, "I Ritsuka Fujimaru, declare that you are-"

"-My most powerful and precious Servant!"

…

"You idiot," she said. She huffed herself up a big, "What took you so long?" she could feel tears begin to flow freely, though they evaporated too quickly to roll down her cheeks in the middle of these flames, "You were probably just trying to be all dramatic, like the stupid little superhero you think you are."

"Yeah," he was smiling back at her, his teeth bright with orange light, though she could see tears evaporating from his eyes too, "Yeah, I'm sorry I'm late," the hand that wasn't clasped in hers came up and caught her cheek, beginning to rub it in affection, "I promise I won't ever let anything like this happen again okay?"

"Moron," she snorted as best she could, "I guess I'll just have to accept your pathetic promise."

"I can only say thank you then," he smiled and continued to rub her cheek, before finally he began to steel himself, "Okay, so…how many followers do you have outside this fire right now?"

"Six hundred or so," she answered, and suddenly the world she was in began to return to Jeannette. She mentally began to realize exactly what situation they were in, and then cursed underneath her breath, "Shit."

"Yeah," he sighed, "And they are all expecting something big after this," he looked out into the crowd, and then slowly looked back into Jeanette's eyes, and…god damnit he was getting one of those smiles.

Ritsuka Fujimaru, dumbass that he was, had a whole litany of smiles at his disposal. It took a true expert of the craft to tell which smile meant what, but Jeannette was fairly sure that no one besides Shielder actually had a full understanding of them. But she'd seen this one enough to know exactly what it meant.

It meant that he'd come up with another one of his plans he'd pulled directly from his ass.

"Jeannette," he said, his eyes locked on her, "Do you have enough control of fire to blow out this pyre if I give you a command?"

Jeanette felt herself as much as a servant could, and then smirked. Oh, she might not be as fully powerful as that stupid saint, but if she needed to control fire, she certainly could. And she could see his own smile widen as he saw her smirk, meaning that he was able to read her smiles too…which made her feel warmer now, which at the moment she shouldn't have been able to reach at all.

"Alright," he said, "When I say "Go", turn off the fire, and then just follow my lead. I'll be able to get us to Emiya, and we can then get to a place where we can discuss our next move without getting attacked by rabid cultists, understand?"

"Hey, I was-"

"Understand?"

"Yeah," she shook her head, as she noticed a sudden steel light cross his eyes, "Yeah, I understand."

Ritsuka nodded. Jeannette raised her hand into the air, pulling as much magic as she could pull into this next spell. For a few seconds, they just stood there, as Ritsuka took in one last deep breath, before smirking at her. It was different than before, almost like how that santa brat would look when she was about to steal Jeannette's snac-

"GO!"

She sent a burst of energy out. She could feel the fires begin to disperse, bursting into a cloud of sparks and smoke and shooting into the sky. Instead of the bright flames blocking her view from the outside world, it was a massive pile of smoke and ash. But that would dissipate soon, and that would mean that her former followers would be able to see them again. Master needed to move quic-

And then she her head pulled forward, firmly but not roughly. Before she could realize what was happening, she jerked to a stop.

With her lips directly on his.

'Wha-' she thought for a second, blinking, 'Surely…surely this is all a dream then,' she thought about if for a moment, 'okay, maybe a long nightmare,' she tried to pull back, but her head was still firmly in place, 'Just a dream, once the smoke goes away, I'll be back in Chaldea, and this whole thing wi-'

The smoke cleared, and she saw that yes, her lips were connected to Ritsuka's. For a moment, she stopped, and part of her screamed to pull away. But…but the rest of her was far too shocked to try and move away. So she sat there, half stunned, as her former followers finally came to view her having her face being sucked by the boy they thought was Azhor Ahai. Of course, this was only an approximation of what she was thinking. At that moment, her mind was a bit too scrambled to form coherent thoughts, so it just came up with whatever it could.

'Dah.'

Like that.

Finally, Ritsuka pulled his lips back, and Jeannette was allowed to see his eyes again. As she tried to regain coherent thought, she couldn't help but notice just how freaking smug he looked with himself.

'Bah-stard.'

"Now my wonderful followers!" Ritsuka shouted his hands raised up high, "I must thank you for all your efforts," somehow, she heard a cheer go out among the people, "I am truly blessed to have those such as you to greet me during my return!"

"Tis our blessing to set our eyes on you!"

"THANK YOU MY LOYAL FOLLOWER!" He shouted quickly, "And I must also thank you for doing your best to take care of my wife!"

'You're what!?' she screamed internally, her coherency returning just for a second.

"HIS WHAT?" she couldn't tell who had said it, but she guessed it was one of the other servants.

"MY WIFE," he said again, though quickly, "WHO I SENT DOWN HERE TO CALL ME!" he then gripped Jeannette's hand, and began to pull her forward, "NOW, I UNDERSTAND MANY OF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS, BUT THERE HAS BEEN SOME PROBLEMS THAT HAVE OCCURRED WITH MY SUMMONING, SO I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SPEAK WITH MY HERALDS AND MY WIFE FOR A MOMENT IN PRIVATE!"

"Azhor Ahai!" one of the cultists shouted, "Please, we have only just seen you, you cannot leave us so soon!" there was a general cacophony of the followers saying this at the same time as Ritsuka finally pulled off the burnt remains of the pyre.

"Do not worry!" Ritsuka's free hand somehow swiped down, swooping up the clothes and shoes laying there, and pulling them into his arm, "I shall be ready to assist you tomorrow. I will need some time to prepare, but you shall see a wonder in the mourn," he was swiftly moving towards the other servants, pulling Jeannette along behind her, her mind barely capable of comprehending exactly what was happening, "I thank you again, go home and stay safe!"

With his clothes in his armpit, he smiled, and then twisted his head toward the metal coffin. Emiya blinked and then nodded, and then waved at the other "heralds" to follow him. They did so, the whole gaggle trotting over to the coffin. The cultists all began to back away as they did so, giving a rather large set of space between them and this "divine" group. Just as they walked up, Jeannette noticed that Emiya was talking underneath his breath.

'Wait,' she thought, seeing the cadence of his speech, 'He's chantin-oh!'

Her thoughts were confirmed when Emiya's face broke into a full smile, and his free left hand slammed into their Master's. She could see electricity flow up his arms, and the hairs on the back of his head stand on in. Emiya bared his teeth in a triumphant smile, and then announced to the world around him-"

"SO AS I PRAY!" she could feel the mana shift in the air, and the beginning of a truly magnificent projection surround and engulf her, the rest of the servants, the coffin, and Ritsuka Fujimaru. She hadn't experienced this before, but even she could tell that this was their way out

"UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS!"

CHOOM,CHOOOM,CHOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

'So this is what it looks like,' she looked up at the gears hanging in the sky, slowly chugging forward as the gears of a clock. The bare ground of rock was covered in hundreds upon thousands of blades, some of which she managed to recognize as they stood as monuments to heroes of the past. The energy of the place was overwhelming, and she could imagine it being difficult to stand were she not brought here as a friend, 'Just like that cow girl celt said,' remembering the tall red head who cooked with Emiya in the dining hall.

"HA! YES!" Emiya whooped, for perhaps the first time since she'd ever met that pretentious harem protagonist. Unlike his usual too cool attitude, he was ecstatic, punching the air in victory, "I can use my reality marble again! I haven't felt this good in ages!"

"In your report," Ritsuka had let go of Jeannette's hand, and had laid down his clothes. He grabbed his pants, and began to pull them onto his legs, "We noticed that you weren't operating at your usual power. Da Vinci guessed that maybe if I was able to reconnect with you, I might be able to give you a boost," he pulled the trouser up to his right knee first, "Looks like she was right, as usual."

"Ha, good old Da Vinci," Emiya seemed to laugh, though his chuckle got a bit more sheepish as he looked back at Ritsuka, "She is easily the smartest, most intelligent-"

"I'm not helping you dig your way out of what she's planning for you," the idiot cut the harem protagonist off, and Jeannette nearly snorted at the look Emiya got on his face, like he'd stuck his dick in an electric socket, "Though she also sent us some more tech to help, another comms device, a bunch more rings for transport, an information tablet," He then turned his attention to the rest, "Don't worry, I'll help you get your mana back by reconnecting the servant link," he then raised his hand, "And don't worry, none of that mana transfer stuff," Jeannette felt her heart lift a bit as the mere thought of her Master sleeping with one of these girls disappeared, "Just need to shake hands."

"That's great," the cowardly bunny pharaoh spoke up, before pointing her hand at the idiot, "But, I have to ask," she seemed to blush for a second, though it wasn't too whorish like that fat titted monk behind her, "Why are you putting your pants on before your underwear?"

"Because we need Jeannette to have something to cover her lower body, and my pants are too big for her waist."

"Wha-" and then she looked down, "I'm NAKED!"

"Yeah, was wondering when that woul-," he stopped as he turned around and stared at her. He was about to yell at him for being a pervert, but…he wasn't blushing. Slowly, she looked at the others, and sighed as she realized that they were looking at her with shock. She then looked down…and then suddenly she was back.

'I suppose,' as the memories of her current life in this wretched city returned to her, 'I suppose it was too much to hope it was just a terrible dream brought on by one too many doujins,' she squeezed her hand tightly, before sighing.

"Getting a nice good look huh," she snapped out, "Like what it means to be a whore of Volantis," she waved her hand over her body, "What's the first thing you noticed," she didn't even bother to wait for an answer, as none of them even opened their mouth, "The tattoos," she twisted her hands around her chest, the long neck of a dragon twisting down from around her neck, twisting under her left breast, swinging up around the right, and ending staring out at them, "Or the brand," she moved her hands down, to where an ornate symbol of a flamingo stood on one leg, "If you want, you can see my back, and see the dragons wings if you want."

…

"Why do you have that tattoo?"

"Oh," she turned her head to the mutt, his eyes moving up and down. Obviously the dog was in heat like usual, had to be with his little mini-me behind him, "Well, I'm sure you can guess that everyone called me an Ash Valyrian," she motioned towards the dragon's head, "SWe are considered to have the souls of dragons that died in the Doom," she almost chuckled, the irony of her old role as the Dragon Witch coming back to her, "So, my second master, on realizing what he had, decided to make me more exotic, and have me tied down and tattooed to look like a proper dragon about fifteen years ago."

"Fifteen," the monk with sagging tits spoke up, "But…you'd only be-"

"Fifteen," she cackled, slowly beginning to gather up her memories of this life, and laughing at the irony of it all, "They had to strap me down for a day to get all this put on," she shook her head, "Did the trick though. I certainly became a more valuable product."

The room became silent, before finally, Ritsuka finished pulling up his pants. He turned his attention to her, and walked over to her, and pulled up his shirt and underwear. She looked down, wondering what sick little fetish he was playing at…but she also really didn't want to be naked anymore, and so she took it up and pulled the shirt over her body. It didn't really fit, since, well, her chest was a bit thicker than his, but it still covered her upper body just fine enough, and so she moved on to pulling up his boxers.

"So," the mutt of ireland spoke up, and Jeannette had forgotten how much his dumb voice irked her, "So, we're going to be getting a power up now, right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Ritsuka reached out his hand, and grabbed Cu's. And for a second, she saw a jolt of energy surge through Cu as well. His stupid smirk reemerged, before stopping, and hoding out his hands for a second.

"I feel better," he admitted, the mini-me behind him staring up, "But…not fully," he just stood there for a moment, and seemed to grunt, "Yeah, still not able to go intangible," he looked over at where Emiya had just been, "What about you Emiy-you're already gone."

"Yeah," Emiya suddenly appeared directly behind Cu, causing the mutt to jump. Jeannette would have chuckled, but she…she just didn't feel like it for some reason. Emiya rubbed the back of his head though, grunting out a bit, "But I still don't have the ability to hold it for long. It's like I'm closer, but not a full servant yet."

"Yeah," Ritsuka rubbed his chin, "Da Vinci said it might be hard. Something here is causing you all to be slightly underpowered," he then looked around, "I guess maybe because it was a constructed world made by that fa-"

"Oh, Master," suddenly Ritsuka turned, and his hand was taken up by that slut of a monk grabbing his hand, and smiling as a surge of energy shoot up through her as well, "Tis so good to see you," she then stopped, coughed, and then assumed a strong stance, hiding her naturally loose behavior behind her stupid martial artist persona, "Always good to see my disciple again. I hope you have been training."

"I've been half dead."

"Oh…right," and at that, Jeannette did snort out a laugh. That caused the monk's big dumb eyes to come over toward her, and Jeannette could feel the disdain pouring through her orbs, "And I suppose tis good to see you are ready to serve our Master once again," she declared haughtily, holding her arms under her breasts and glaring at Jeannette.

"Oh," Jeannette sniped back, doing her best to keep her face straight in the monk's vision. This girl may act like she's a straight of the line follower of that eastern sage, but she knew better. Nothing more than a slut like every other girl in that stupid place…besides Ushiwaka. Ushiwaka is cool, "I would think you'd be perfectly happy to never have to see me again."

"Jeanne-," her idiot master held his hands forward, though he was trying to keep his eyes firmly focused on her face. Probably disgusted by her whore body, she was shure, just like in those doujins she'd re-

"Could you not act this way," the monk did her best to remain calm, but Jeannette could feel herself pushing this bitch's buttons, "We are to be comrades again, and I do not wish to have any more issues than necessary," the monk refused to look down, "And would you please put on the clothes Master has offered you, I think it would be best for you to cover yourself."

"What, you don't like the body of a whore?"

"I mean it is shameful to have yourself so naked to the world," the monk was still making sure to only look her in the eye, "Cover yourself, at least for your own sense of decency," she sighed, "I understand you spent nearly decade as a prostitu-"

"Decade?" Jeannette cut Xuanzang off, and just began laughing, "A decade?" she asked again, before shaking her head, "Oh no, it would be nice if it was just a decade."

"I…I don't understand," the monk said, "You said you got the tattoo when you were fifteen."

"Oh, you want to know why I wasn't a valuable product at fifteen," the witch continued, wanting to push all these memories out, almost as a way to expel them from her mind, "I started work so much earlier," she shook her head while pointing down at the flamingo at her belly, "But that made me less desirable once I reached a certain age, and my first master just sold me after that."

She didn't even bother to look up. For the first time in years, she wasn't the red priestess anymore, and suddenly the aches and pains were real again. Where the artist had cut into her skin, and where the brand had seared flesh, she could still feel the pain. She grasped her hand tightly together, before bringing it up and covering her eyes. She wouldn't let these assholes have the satisfaction of seeing "the bitch" cry. She knew what they thought about her, and she wasn't going to show them any weakness at all. She pulled herself together, and almost felt like she'd sucked the tears back into her, before letting out a smirk and continuing.

"I was much more popular as a dragon whore," she could remember weeks on end where she would have a client each night, "They made sure to keep me going, considering he was able to charge more for me than for any other whore on that entire block of pleasure houses," she cringed as the taste of the steaming potions and elixirs returned to her, "Couldn't let me have a child or anything, I was much too valuable to have sit out," she then laughed, "I…I got pregnant twice I think, at least," she then stared down at her belly, an old shame returning, "But, those potions…"

"Fucking hell," the mutt seemed to get close to the mini-me, but Jeannette was beyond caring.

"Well, I was popular enough, that during one of the big elections, the Triarchs came a calling for a whore," she looked down, "The best whore, a point of pride I'm sure that my master felt I suppose," she then brought her hands up, and held her arms in discomfort, "They came looking for me, so they could celebrate their shared victory. They wanted me to come to their palace, and I guess I must have cost a full palace worth of gold from how easily I went," she placed a hand on the burnt flesh beneath her eye, "The third tear is the worst, it's the one that means you're going to die."

"That night was their party, and I was the main course," she finally felt her body shiver again, and it felt like her limbs were again being pulled away from her, "The Triarchs believe that having to touch the ground is beneath their blood, so they demand to be carried around in litters," she then held her wrists out, "So they decided, that to truly enjoy their experience, they would need to have a whore with no connection to the ground either," she raised her hands up, "They tied me at my wrists, and my ankles, lifted me up," she then let them down, "And I suppose you can imagine what happened then."

They were all quiet then, but she couldn't help but smirk, "But then it happened, I saw a hand reaching out to me from the coals of a dying fire while all three of those fat hogs laid sleeping," she looked over at Ritsuka, whose eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Her foolish master, perhaps contemplating how one of his little servants was so utterly ruined like she was, "And I suppose when I reached out, I pulled over the coals, and lit all the blankets and pillows aflame. I managed to get away," and then she felt the most devilish smirk cover her face, "But they didn't."

"So, as the palace burned around me, I ran out of the black walls, and managed to reach the river," she shook her head, "I was so exhausted, I didn't look where I was going, and then I fell into the river," she wanted to slap her head in frustration, but she wouldn't lose control of the situation by showing weakness like that, "I should have drowned, but that widow…she fished me out," she then smirked, "And I guess you all can guess the res-huh!"

She felt herself pulled into a massive embrace. She stopped, looked down, and saw the tear covered face of the monk. She blinked, for a second, before slowly trying to pull herself out of the hug. The cry-baby tried to say something, but only an unintelligible blubbering poured from her fat lips, and then she stopped, and pulled Jeannette further into the hug.

"Let me go you moron!" she shouted, looking at the other servants to help pry this dumb idiot off of her. The cowardly Pharaoh was holding her hands over her mouth, just staring at her in horror. The mutt had somehow pulled out that red little spear on his back, and was bouncing it up and down as he grit his teeth. Emiya was gripping his hands together, and she could see his teeth grinding behind his closed lips.

Then she looked at her idiot Master.

His eyes were angry, angrier than she'd ever seen them. She'd seen him angry a few times, but never like this, like he was barely holding something in him. He looked like he was about to scream, or rage or cry, but he didn't. He slowly breathed in a massive breath, allowing air to fill his lungs, before breathing out with a question.

"So we wreck this place tomorrow, right?"

"HELL YEAH!"