A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 11

FRANCE

1431

Jeanne d'Arc was not having a good week.

Oh sure, it had started well enough. She had finally tracked down that annoying dragonslayer, and was tearing through the air with enough wyverns to drown the man in them, when Gilles had started shrieking in her head.

Now, usually that just meant it was a day ending in 'y'. Gilles was very…..excitable these days. He'd clearly taken her death badly, and was a far cry from the reserved man who had fought at her side in previous days. Which was fine, she was far from the pious little milksop she had been before the pyre - they'd both changed since that terrible day.

But there was something different about Gilles' outburst today - it wasn't him getting worked up about some new atrocity he'd thought up for them to inflict on the traitorous population of France, no. This was fear - something had happened that had Gilles running scared. So, being the fearless leader, and good friend she was, she turned her wyvern caravan around and flew back to her castle at Orleans, double time.

All the while, she'd been trying to get Gilles to stop gibbering and make sense, but all she'd been able to get from him was that they had a visitor.

The fuck? Who was stupid enough to visit THEM? Were the piles of charred corpses not a good enough 'keep the fuck out' sign?

She'd managed to work herself up into a more irritable mood than usual by the time her wyverns landed in the courtyard of her castle, and she'd been ready to turn their unwanted guest into so much charcoal, when she'd seen Gilles' weird little pets.

Or, more correctly, what was left of them.

Something had torn through them, littering the courtyard with their parts. And while they weren't the most threatening things to a top-tier Servant like her, Gilles had A LOT of them roaming the grounds, and could easily summon more with his book.

It didn't look like it had mattered. Whomever had come calling had torn through them effortlessly - to the point, as she stalked to the throne room, she caught glimpses of some still-living monstrosities cowering in the corners.

COWERING.

By the time she got to her throne room, she was equal parts angry, concerned, and spoiling for a fight. She'd kicked the door open to set the proper theme for her entrance, and, then, laid eyes on their mysterious guest.

Frankly, he didn't look like much. Just a smiling man in a green suit. Harmless looking, if not for the ichor of Gilles' pets staining his arms, and the fact that Gilles was trembling in the corner.

She'd barely begun to draw breath to demand just who in the hells he was, and what he was doing in HER castle and to HER friend, when the man had interrupted her, apologizing for his abrupt, and rude intrusion.

He'd not let her get a word in edgewise, as he'd claimed to be an ally, someone very interested in her work here, and, as such, he was loath to see such a promising endeavor come to an end.

Because there were people coming, you see, who were determined to put a stop to her holding France accountable for its many crimes against her.

She'd laughed, of course. People coming to stop her? Let them try - they'd be more fuel for the pyre that would be France.

He'd smiled at her bravado, and said he was certain she was truly fearsome, but her enemies also had a mighty warrior at their side, and wouldn't she like some insurance against that? He'd had a gift for her, something that had been retrieved at great risk, something that would certainly be an excellent catalyst if used to summon a Servant.

The 'gift' in question had been little more than a stone, spotted with some blood.

Their guest had just smiled his weird little smile at her disdainful look, stating that the blood on that rock was the very blood of the warrior that was aiding their enemies. And if she used it as a catalyst, called out for the Throne to send her one of this man's enemies - of which he was sure there were many - her victory would be assured.

Then he'd bowed, and taken his leave, and Jeanne hadn't had it in her to stop him.

That morning, she might have laughed if someone had told her of someone coming to stop her. But that man - if he'd been a man at all - had had power, real power. And the only time his pleasant demeanor had slipped had been when he had been talking about this supposedly 'mighty warrior'. That man, for all the power she could feel boiling under his skin, had been concerned about that individual.

So she chose to use his gift as intended.

Problem the first - she had too many Heroic Spirits summoned as is. In order to summon another, she'd need to discard and draw. If she'd still been the weak little bleeding-heart she'd been before That Day, she might have agonized over it, fretted about losing one of her companions, sobbed into the night about making a hard choice.

For the new and improved Jeanne d'Arc, it was easy. Berserk Rider had fought her control from the moment she'd been summoned. She was constantly seeking any sort of loophole in her orders, constantly undermining her authority - she was halfway convinced she had been so badly beaten by that dragonslayer because she was trying to get herself killed, and escape Jeanne's service.

If she wanted to die so badly, Jeanne would give it to her.

So she and her running crew had jumped Berserk Rider, and beaten her badly - almost to the point of death, but not quite there. Killing her like that would be wasteful - this could do double duty as both freeing up a slot in her roster, and as an object lesson to some of her other less than dutiful Servants - Berserk Archer, for one.

So she'd dragged Saint Martha to the selfsame spot where Jeanne herself had been burnt at the stake, and did a re-enactment. Burning an actual saint in the spot where she herself had burnt - then using the ashes to draw the magical circle they'd use to summon her replacement.

She'd thought Gilles was going to cream his pants at the sheer blasphemy of it - and he might well have.

She'd set the bloodstained stone at the center of the circle, and then done the chant, modified to call out for an enemy of he whose blood marked this catalyst.

And that's when things had started to go wrong.

It was now a week later, and it was just her and Gilles, storming through the castle.

"Gilles, you want to tell me exactly WHY the Madness Enhancement isn't taking on this one?" There was a vein throbbing in Jeanne's forehead, one that had been growing more and more pronounced as the week went on. "I did the spell just like you showed me - just like I did it for ALL the rest, and nothing! You want to explain this?"

Gilles giggled. To someone unfamiliar with the man, it would have sounded like his usual, unhinged laughter, but Jeanne could hear the undercurrent of unease in it. And this was Gilles - something that unsettled him was…what fresh hell had she summoned last week?

"Oh Jeanne, Jeanne….." his voice dropped an octave, as suddenly, he sounded almost like the soldier she had known before her death, and not the Gilles of the current day. "Truly, I don't know. The spell slips off him like the skin off a flayed baby's back. It should work - there's no reason why it wouldn't. But it just doesn't seem to want to take to this Servant."

Jeanne growled, frustrated. "He doesn't LISTEN. Not to you, not to me, not to anyone! He's spent more time fighting with the other Servants, drinking, and screwing than actually following orders."

She stopped, turning to face Gilles as he trailed along behind her. "He tamed Fafnir. FAFNIR! The calamity of a dragon who BARELY listens to me, and then only because I summoned him and I've promised him Siegfried's heart. But he spends a day getting thrown around by that dragon, getting mauled by it and laughing, and suddenly Fafnir's willing to be his personal fucking MOUNT! I swear they're five minutes away from making some blood oath and calling each other 'brother'."

She ran a hand through her hair, feeling how ragged and unkempt it felt. Things felt like they were slipping away from her at a rapid pace. When she spoke, her voice was notably lacking her usual vigor. "Gilles, what do I do?"

The feeling of a hand patting her on her shoulder brought her out of her spiraling thoughts. Gilles was smiling up at her (and that was another strange thing about this new Gilles, he had shrunk in on himself in the time that had passed since she had died and come back - and that wasn't even mentioning those eyes of his). "Dear Jeanne, you shouldn't doubt yourself like that. It's unbecoming of the perfect Jeanne you have become. You know what to do, in your heart. You're thinking it, the same thing I'm thinking."

Duh. It was so simple when he put it like that. "Same thing I've done to everyone who's dared to defy me, right?"

Gilles nodded, and Jeanne straightened up, finally feeling like things were starting to make sense again. "You're damn right! Come on, Gilles. Let's find that dick and teach him about the pecking order around here."

A few days had passed since the Blades had followed Kratos to this world, and he once again found himself standing in a room that he'd hoped to never cross the threshold of again.

The summoning chamber.

It was only obligation, and the continual, persuasive efforts of a certain Universal Genius that had him standing here.

He had been packing up his notes, his daily lessons with Da Vinci having finished, when she had bid him stay seated for a moment. "Before you go for the day, there's a bit of Chaldea business I'd like to discuss with you."

He'd settled back into his chair, and nodded at her to continue.

"So…..when your Blades showed up the other night, it did a number on the summoning chamber. Whatever trick they pulled to force their way into our reality blew out circuits, played merry hell with the various wards and other mysteries we had set up there, and generally trashed the place - in a different way than Lev's bombs did. The damage he caused was mainly physical, while the damage this time was more metaphysical."

"Now, no one's blaming you for what happened the other night - from what you told us, you have no control on what those things do when they're separated from you, and you certainly didn't intend to get kicked to another universe while your blades were hanging on your wall back home, and thus making them go into a possessive snit like they did."

She frowned, considering. "Honestly, in some ways it's almost a good thing - now that we know that our system CAN be hacked, we can try to defend against it with the data we collected. It might amount to nothing in the end - anything powerful enough to kick down the walls between dimensions like that might not even notice our protections, but it'll at least help Roman sleep a bit better at night."

She grimaced. "WHEN he's sleeping."

Kratos wisely said nothing. He understood Doctor Romani's drive all too well - from the moment Baldur had shown up on their doorstep until the moment they returned home from spreading Faye's ashes, he'd not slept, had pushed his stamina as far as it would go, seeking to finish their journey while he still had strength.

But Romani was only human,and had human limits. And a determined Universal Genius who had jokingly been threatening to drug Romani to make sure he got adequate rest.

At least, he thought she was joking.

"ANYWAYS!" she chirped, coming back from whatever dire fate she had been devising for Romani. "The long and the short of it is, we've got the summoning chamber repaired - again - and this brings up something we would have asked you a few days ago, if your Blades hadn't shown up the way they did."

Kratos frowned, already having guessed what she was going to say. "Now that it is repaired, it must be tested."

"Got in it one."

Kratos' frown was beginning to resemble a full on grimace. "You know my feelings on holding the power I already hold over Mash and Cu Chulainn. And yet, you would ask me to bind another's will to mine?"

"Yes, I would." she said, bluntly. "For the dual reasons that we need to make sure the chamber works, for when Fujimaru wakes up, and because we need as many allies as we can summon. And like it or not, you're the only person left with any sort of Master potential."

"Now, do I expect you to do so just because I told you to? Of course not. We can't MAKE you do anything." Her fingers began drumming on the tabletop, as she considered him. "And honestly, I'd much prefer you as a willing participant, rather than doing this out of obligation or because you feel you have to. If you're truly, completely set against this, then we'll make do until Fujimaru wakes up. Given what you told us about how the gods treated you when you were in their service, I can't blame you for your reservations in holding that kind of absolute power over another. But!"

She gave him a look, one that put him in mind of Freya, when she had asked him to be the general of the armies of Ragnarök. "First, there's every possibility that Fujimaru might not ever wake up, or, if she does, she might not live to the end of this. If the latter happens, then you'd be right back to where you are now, having to take on those contracts lest we lose whatever Servants Fujimaru's managed to summon. And in that scenario, you won't have a choice like you do now, and I worry how that might make you feel. No one likes feeling like they're being forced into doing something, much less something they have ample distaste for."

"Secondly, we are just wasting resources by not summoning another Servant. With the Grail from the Fuyuki Singularity, we can easily support another Servant, and the possibilities for who we could summon is, quite literally, endless. A legendary medic to help get Fujimaru back on her feet, or another warrior the caliber of Cu Chulainn to help us fight. A powerful Mage who can help us shore up our defenses, or create objects that would make exploring the Singularities safer and easier. Another pair of hands, no matter the hands, would be a godsend right now - pun not intended."

She raised a finger. "And, given we can only send a single Servant with you to the next Singularity - well, one and Mash - it would be nice to have someone else besides yours truly to be the last line of defense in case our enemy decides to attempt an attack while you're in the field. I'd defend this place with EVERY fiber of my being, but I'm still no more of a fighter than I was a few days ago."

Every point she was raising was a valid one. And yet, his blood still curdled at the thought of summoning yet another spirit to his side. It was easy to forget, at times, between the sparring, the teaching, the being taught, that he held an absolute power - of life and death, if so he chose - over two other people.

For all that he was an incomplete ghost, only a portion of the entire person he had been while alive, Cu Chulainn WAS a person to Kratos. They had fought side by side, spilled blood, both theirs and others, together. He was easily the most agreeable spirit Kratos had ever met in his lifetimes - not that that was a high bar to clear.

And Mash….Mash was a gentle, naive girl, nearly as ill-suited to a path of violence and combat as his son had been. Circumstances had forced both onto the paths they now walked, but had things been different, he could have seen his son walking the path of a scholar - or something involving animals. Lots of animals. And Mash…..

Da Vinci had made it clear the girl had barely been treated as human for a large portion of her life. To override her will, to give her an absolute command like that made Kratos feel ill. Even having the potential to do such sat poorly with him.

"If it helps, we don't need a decision right now. Roman is getting closer to narrowing down the exact time period for three different Singularities, but it doesn't feel like we're on the cusp of a breakthrough there - assuming he doesn't stay up three nights in a row pouring over a decade's worth of history again," she grumbled. "Think on it, and I mean REALLY think on it. Talk it over with Mash and Cu if you believe that would help - they'd certainly have thoughts on the subject. Lots of thoughts, for that matter."

"Just…..whatever being a Master means to you - and yes, I know you don't like that title, don't glare at me like that - you're who defines what it is, not anyone else. It doesn't have to be the servitude to the gods you suffered under - if you don't like what it represents, then make it something else, something entirely yours."

She gave him a smile. "Just my two cents."

"I think you should do it."

Kratos sent a weak glare at the Irish Servant. "Are you so eager for a new opponent to fight?"

Cu's eyes widened in affront - Kratos was certain at least half, if not more of it was a show. "HEY! That's not my reason at all!" At Kratos' withering look, he had the dignity to look at least a bit sheepish. "Well, it's not ALL of my reason."

He bounced on the balls of his feet, just outside the range of Kratos' arms. No weapons for their spar tonight, the Caster had suggested a round of unarmed combat, something that he was possibly regretting, as Kratos' raw brute strength had easily allowed him to take the first few falls. Now, he was fighting much more carefully, waiting for Kratos to make the first move.

Across the field from them, Mash was running through a set of more advanced drills that Kratos had come up with for the girl. Only a week, and she was already showing marked signs of improvement.

With a huff, Kratos snapped a jab at Cu's face, breaking the stalemate. Cu weaved under the punch, feinted a cross counter, and then quick as lightning, snapped a low kick at Kratos' leg - one he only just managed to blunt by turning to the blow and taking it on his meaty thigh.

"You HAVE to agree, though, only having each other to spar with is a bit boring - not that you're not an endless bag of tricks that I'm still figuring out, but being able to fight other people would help keep us sharper. You're enough of a warrior to not need me to tell you that." Cu slid back from a vicious uppercut, then stepped inside Kratos' guard and fired a quick pair of rabbit punches at the Spartan's midsection, blows that landed, but did little damage. Before Kratos could retaliate, he sprang back, again just outside of his range.

"And the girl could use it too. Everything I said about needing to fight a variety of people goes double for a newbie like her. But again, not telling you anything you don't know." Cu bobbed and weaved as Kratos went on the offensive, peppering Cu with a variety of quick punches, keeping his guard tight, for the man needed only a split second to counter.

And he must have seen a window, however brief, for he snapped out a straight right - that was caught by Kratos' hand, and then was pulled in close, and lifted. "Oh shiiiiiiiiit!" Cu's cry echoed through the room as Kratos tossed him across the plain, the man landing with a thud.

For a long moment, the Servant just laid there. Then, he sighed. "I know I'm one to complain about this, but it really isn't FAIR how fast you are - especially for how BIG you are. I could dance circles around Heracles - not that I could do much damage to him by my lonesome as a Caster, but you. YOU look like you should be much slower than you actually are. I'm glad you're on our side."

He pushed himself back to his feet. "Let me catch my breath, then we'll go again." He began patting down his robes, beating the dust from them, as he began to get his breathing under control. "But back to what I was saying, I don't JUST want another person around to fight with. I also think it'd do you some good."

Kratos blinked. "Explain."

Cu paused in working the kinks out of his back. "Kratos, you're not nearly as bad as you think you are. And the crazy inventor lady is right, you might well have to carry the load as far as Servants go if worst comes to worst and we lose the girl somewhere along the way. The Morrigan takes who she takes and doesn't give a toss what mere mortals might have to say about that. Trust me, I've met her in all her terrifying glory."

He rolled his shoulders. "So I think you need to face this thing head on, and realize you're not going to turn into 'him' anytime soon. And I don't think hearing it from the two of us is going to be enough - you know I just came from a shit situation as far as Masters go, so it's easy to write my opinion off, even if I've been having a ball working with you." He grinned. "Fights everyday, and good ones to boot! It's like training with the hag, but with so many less broken bones and lost teeth, too."

"And the lass doesn't seem like she has it in her to dislike someone, even if you weren't doing right by her, and you absolutely are. I've heard enough about how Spartans were made - that you aren't putting her through that hell is a credit to you."

His grin turned wicked. "Even if she's been worshiping the ground you walk on since you told her where you were from. She's been psyching herself up to ask you for a story or two, I just know it."

Kratos grunted. Da Vinci had not been exaggerating when she'd said Mash had a fascination with Sparta. She'd been treating Kratos with awe since that evening. Blushes and sputtered squeaks had been the order of the day for their first training session after he'd told the bits of his tale - though that was beginning to taper off.

"But, I think what will really get it through your thick head that, as far as Masters go - and you give me another term to use and I'll use it, but until then, Master Master Master - you're a good one is building a relationship from scratch with a Servant." He shrugged. "And in the event it goes to shit, you can always send them back to the Throne, and I'll concede that you're right and eat my helping of crow - but I honestly don't think that'll be the case."

Cu pressed his knuckles to his neck, popping them, then raised his fists, ready for another round. "Just, if you DO go ahead and summon someone, do me a favor? Don't summon that Red Archer. I HATE that guy."

"Mash. A word, before you go."

Mash was, as usual for the end of her nightly training sessions with Kratos (a Spartan, a Spartan, a SPARTAN! Did he know Leonidas? Was he at Thermopylae?), a tired, sweaty mess. She'd been looking forward to the grunt of dismissal so she could shower, then collapse in her bed, but….

….Kratos wanted a word.

She hoped she wasn't blushing too badly - Roman had been teasing her about it so much that she was desperately trying to act more normal around Kratos, for all that he was a SPARTAN.

She drew herself up straight, despite how tired she was, and faced her teacher. "Sir?"

Kratos looked at her for a long moment. "Da Vinci has requested that I summon another Servant, both to test the repairs of the chamber, and to bolster our forces." He rumbled a noise, deep in his throat. "You know my hesitation to assume such a role - and you heard my tale the previous evening. I dislike this power to strip the will from another, to bind another so completely to myself."

[Still hung up on this? For all that he's been badmouthing me for not telling you who I am, he's certainly quite the hypocrite in his own way. You need all the help you can get, and he's holding back - worse than I am. At least I gave you my powers. He's actively denying you reinforcements.]

"Da Vinci and Cu Chulainn have both said their piece. I would hear yours, if you have words to share."

For a moment, Mash almost forgot how to breathe. Then, she remembered how to, and had to stop herself from babbling out the first thing that came to mind.

[Calm down, you silly girl. He's a man like any other. For goodness sakes, you've watched him fumble over the basic English alphabet like some sort of kindergartener for a week now.]

Mash ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, before finding her voice. "Mr. Kratos - I know how uncomfortable all this makes you - having that kind of power over others. After hearing your story the other night, I can understand why - where you're coming from. After going through what you went through, anyone would be scared that they'd turn into Ar…..him, I mean."

Romani and Da Vinci had been clear on this - Kratos chose to share what he had of his past only with the four of them. Until they heard otherwise, it was to STAY with the four of them.

She continued. "But….what I said back in that singularity hasn't changed. You're so cautious with that power, because of what you went through. You treat Cu….you treat ME like a person, and you're so careful with both of us when you spar with us, even though we're Servants."

She had to restrain herself from clasping her hands together and fidgeting with her fingers, a nervous habit she was still trying to break. "I think…..I think you should give yourself a chance. A chance to believe in yourself…..and to prove that you're better than him. Because, I think you're a good person, Mr. Kratos."

So, he had thought about it.

He had thought about it as he had tried to sleep, tossing and turning in his overly soft bed, in his room where he could control the temperature to his liking, until he disabled that ability, and curled up on the floor. Only then did his mind settle enough for sleep.

He had thought about it at meals, as conversation washed around him, as he absently fended off attempts from a white-furred scavenger to steal morsels off his plate.

It had been at least partially on his mind as he had lessons with Da Vinci and Mash, though the greater whole of his focus had been on what he had been learning. Mash likely would not have noticed if he was distracted, but it was an insult to a teacher to not give one's whole effort in learning. And both his teachers deserved that respect.

He had thought about it, extensively, as he had sparred with Cu. Those had been the times when he had made the most progress on his conflicted thoughts. There had always been a clarity in the heart of combat for Kratos, be that combat a life or death struggle, or a simple friendly spar with a garrulous Irishman.

He had thought of it as he had stood in his shower, the hot water drumming into his skull as he had lost himself in the haze of heat and tried to find his answer.

And it had been at the forefront of his mind when Doctor Romani had burst into one of his lessons with Da Vinci to announce they were within a day or two of narrowing down the exact time period of what they were calling the French Singularity.

The first campaign of this war loomed - and they were approaching it at less than the full strength they could bring to bear, due to him and his misgivings.

In the end, he had taken his Blades back up to save his son, then had borne them, USED them from that moment onwards, carrying them through Ragnarök and beyond. Was summoning a Servant truly that different?

Yes, it came with the power to enslave a being more completely than he had even been bound by Olympus. But these Command Spells could be used for other things than slavery - they had the power to create magical boons that could be the tipping point in a close battle.

(Even hateful tools have their uses.)

And the battle looming before them was greater than Ragnarök had ever been. Nine Realms had been jeopardized by the threat of Asgard, but Odin had merely sought complete dominance over those realms - not to wipe them out to a man.

He still struggled to sleep, as the answer continued to elude him.

In the end, it wasn't his endless internal deliberations that made him step foot in the summoning chamber again, this time to, of his own free will, call out to this Throne and attempt to summon a Heroic Spirit. It was the faith shown in him by his small circle of…..not friends, it was too soon to label those four that yet - but allies, possibly on the way to being trusted allies - that made him willing to take this step, despite his unease.

They believed in him - for all that they knew so little about him - and believed he would not abuse this power. So, for them, for the alliance they had, and to give their small band the best chances to succeed, he would try.

(He had thrown himself on the Blade of Olympus to release hope back to the world. Was it wrong, a small part of him wondered, to wish for a small part of that hope for himself, to maybe believe he COULD be better than his horrific past?)

At worst, the attempt would fail, and he could never hear of this again.

The air in the chamber was cool, much cooler than the air in the rest of the building, and tasted even staler (Da Vinci had explained how the air in the building was endlessly recycled, when he had commented on its odd aroma. It was one thing he disliked about this future time.) - or possibly it was merely his unease coloring his senses.

It was possibly also his imagination that he thought he had seen a small dent, lightly scorched, in the floor, where his blades had impacted the last time he had stood in this room, before Mash had covered it with her massive shield.

"All readings are showing green - so everything looks promising on our end. We're ready whenever you are, Kratos." Romani's voice echoed through the room, projected from his secure seat in the outer chamber of the summoning room.

This was it, the line in the sand. He would either back out, citing his discomforts and unease, or would take a leap, and hope that the belief they were showing in him was well-founded.

(He would KILL himself should he find that he had become a slaver like Ares. He WOULD be better, he SWORE.)

He took a breath.

And spoke.

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

"Let stone and the Archduke of Contracts be the foundation."

"Let Red be the color I pay tribute to."

The choice of color had been left up to him. Red was as good as any. And it was the color of his son's hair. Bright, full of life, like the boy himself.

(He missed his son, it was like a constant ache that wouldn't subside, made all the worse by the fact that there was an entire universe between them now.)

"Let my father be the ancestor."

He may regret his actions against his father, but he would be damned to the lowest reaches of Tartarus before he would refer to Zeus as 'his great Master'. Thankfully, there was some leeway on the incantation.

"Let rise a wind against the wind that shall fall."

"Let the four cardinal gates close."

"Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

"My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny."

The Norns had been clear, there WAS no fate, no destiny. Only choices, and the consequences of them.

"If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me."

(If you spirits are listening, I do not seek a slave, I seek an ally, a comrade, in this war we undertake. I would not treat you as I was. Obey only so long as my commands are just.)

"I hereby swear that I shall be all that is good in the World."

If Kratos had ever doubted that the gods of the world had long since retreated from humanity, the fact that he was not immediately struck down for proclaiming that he would be all the good in the world would have proved it to him, then and there.

"That I shall defeat all that is evil in the world."

A vow he could more easily make. But would he himself count as one of the evils of the world? He remained a monster, he stood by the words he had spoken to Athena in his home on that storm-wracked day.

"Seventh heaven, clad in the great words of power."

"Come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of the Scales."

Kratos finished the incantation, part of him feeling foolish having recited such a grandiose chant, and waited. What did any Heroic Spirit who might hear his voice even know of him? Did they see the man he was, or the man he is? (Was there any difference?) Or did they merely hear a voice, and chose to answer for their own reasons?

A moment stretched into a minute, with no signs of any reaction.

Did he fail? Was he rejected? Kratos was not sure if he was relieved, or should be dejected that he had possibly been judged, and found wanting.

His mouth had begun to open to ask for confirmation that it had failed, when the chamber began to hum.

"We've got a reaction!" Romani's voice cut over the noises of the chamber whirring to life. "Everything's still green, so this isn't like the other night. Looks like we're about to have a new guest!"

Just like the previous evening, 10 white orbs formed, and began spinning. Energy, magic - pure magic, even a warrior like Kratos could feel the power building in the circle - coalesced and formed, before exploding across the room in a blinding burst of light.

For a second, Kratos smelled the sea.

When his vision came back, he saw that his call had been answered.

It was a woman. She would have been of average height for a Spartan woman, so perhaps tall for her time, and certainly somewhat taller than the women he saw around Chaldea on a daily basis. Long, incredibly long purple hair cascaded down to the backs of her feet - an impractical length to Kratos' eyes, far too easy to grab in a fight. She was dressed simply, a black dress edged with pink, and high black boots and long gloves, also highlighted in pink, covered her limbs.

The most unusual part of her appearance was the red tattoo inscribed on her forehead, the band around her throat, and the thick, black blindfold that covered her eyes.

Despite the blindfold, Kratos felt certain that the woman had no trouble seeing.

Some part of Kratos noticed that she was incredibly beautiful, but that part noticed it as he would notice a work of art, or the natural beauty of his home in the Wildwoods. His heart still belonged to Faye, would belong to her for many decades to come - but neither was he blind. He could notice a woman's beauty, even if he had no interest in it beyond acknowledging it.

One's appearance could be as much a weapon as any blade.

"Curious choice." The Servant's voice was deep, with a huskiness to it. "Servant Rider. Which of you is to be….." She had been looking about the room, first glancing at Mash, then her hidden eyes had alighted on Kratos.

The previous day, Tanya had shown him a recording of a cat being surprised by a cucumber - a green vegetable. The cat had sprung into the air, hissing, clearly startled - it had been explained that it was likely the cat mistaking the object for a snake, and it had triggered an instinctual response to seeing what they thought was a predator. This was apparently a frequent sort of comedy on a connected repository of recordings.

(Kratos hadn't liked it. He could, on some level, understand the absurdity of the moment, but it seemed cruel to him to tease an animal like that - though he could also understand the desire to see such arrogant animals humbled a bit. Kratos had never been fond of cats.)

(He hoped Angrboða was feeding the wolves in his absence. Da Vinci had explained that there was no way to know if time was passing at the same rate in this world as it was in his, or at a greater or slower rate in either. This only added to his concerns.)

The woman, upon seeing Kratos, reacted much the same. One moment she was in the center of the circle, the next, she had sprang back to the far corner of the room, weapons materializing in her hands. Her hair had even sprang up, waving sinuously around her head like it was alive.

"HOW?" she spat, the huskiness of her voice now replaced by an almost hissing quality. "How is a GOD here? Were those words of yours lies? Am I to be your plaything, like I was to Poseidon?"

Kratos found his voice stolen by the mention of the sea god. Whoever this woman was, she was from Greece - not his Greece, but Greece all the same. That she was one of Poseidon's conquests did not narrow down her identity in any meaningful way - Poseidon had been almost as promiscuous as his younger brother.

While he had been momentarily stunned, the Servant had been growing ever more tense, her knuckles white as she clutched at her two weapons (and some part of Kratos' mind was screaming at him that he should recognize those weapons, but it was drowned out as he tried to find the words to calm the situation).

Thankfully, he was spared from having to test his limited skills at diplomacy by the arrival of Cu Chulainn in a shower of golden sparks. "WHOA! Rider, calm your tits!" Cu's hands were held upwards, palms out, his movements deliberate and careful. "He's not one of your gods, or any god from these parts." He grimaced. "It's complicated."

He took a cautious half-step forward. "Put the nails down and hear us out - I'd prefer to not have to fight you for a second time, not when we can maybe resolve this without everything blowing up." He glanced over his shoulder. "I'd really, REALLY like this to not go badly, for a variety of reasons."

The weapons remained in her hands, and if anything, she grew tenser. "Fight me again? Is this not your first time trying to summon me for your amusements?"

"NO!" squawked Cu. "I fought you in a Grail War gone bad a few weeks ago - someone mind helping me reassure the scary lady? Diplomacy was never my strong suit!"

"I am not a god of this universe."

Kratos' announcement, if nothing else, took the woman by surprise. For a second, the tension in her body vanished, as she turned a baffled gaze (at least, going by her body language and what he could see of her face) onto Kratos. "What?"

SUMMONING CHAMBER CONFERENCE ROOM

A FEW MINUTES LATER

From there, they had managed to talk the Servant down from wary hostility into wary curiosity, and after coaxing her into the nearby conference room, had been able to explain the situation in abbreviated fashion.

"A god, from another universe, falls through a rift, and just happens to end up in exactly the right place and time to help the last hope of humanity itself?" The woman scoffed. "It strains belief, were I not able to see you sitting right in front of me." She leaned closer to him, and, of all things, sniffed. "And you are no god of the Greek Pantheon I knew - and I can smell it on you, faint as it is, and buried by the smell of ice and cold - you're Greek, or were, once."

"I was, yes. No longer. Not in many years." Kratos could tell the woman was still on edge, his voice, soft as he had kept it, still caused her to start minutely. It was subtle, she was controlling her reactions well, but it was there.

He supposed he couldn't blame her - the gods of the Greece of this universe, while they had been better than the pantheon he had known, his lessons had shown that they had still possessed many of the same flaws and failings as the ones of his world. They at least had not managed to craft their own destruction in the form of Kratos, or another like him, to their credit.

She considered him for a long moment. "Indeed. I suppose I owe you all an apology for my reaction. Seeing a living god here, so long after they retreated from this side of the World….it was a shock. And I have few fond memories of the gods."

She stood, and bowed her head. "Let us begin anew. Rider Class Servant. My True Name is Medusa."

The resulting silence was deafening. One of her eyebrows quirked up, above her blindfold. "I see you know me, foreign god. Having second thoughts about your words, now that you know the name of the monster you have summoned?"

For his part, Kratos was as shocked as the woman was when she had beheld him. Medusa HAD been a monster - twisted and hideous of form, and more akin to snakes than humans, much like the lesser Gorgons that he had battled, but larger, more vicious, and more powerful. This woman could have passed through Sparta and not a man would have thought her to be the feared Queen of the Gorgons. She would have gained more attention for her obvious beauty, and the odd color of her hair, than any suspicion of being a mythical beast, said to have claimed innumerable lives.

"No. I meant the words I said. I was merely remembering the Queen of the Gorgons I knew in my lifetime - and how you appear nothing like her."

If anything, the eyebrow raised higher. "Queen of the Gorgons?" Her head tilted. "There were only three of us, my sisters and I. Not enough of us for anyone to be the 'Queen' of them." Her voice dropped. "Not that I would have ever been allowed to rule over my sisters….."

Kratos grunted. "There were many in my world. They were a dangerous scourge upon the land, preying upon men for their flesh, or turning them into stone. But they were hardly unique in the dangers that infested Greece."

"While the comparisons of the differences in your worlds is interesting - and if you continue this conversation later, PLEASE make sure to include Da Vinci - she's about to vibrate right through her chair," Romani ducked as Da Vinci made to swat him on the back of his head. "I need to ask - Medusa, now that you've heard our story, do you think you can work with us here? Kratos wasn't exactly crazy about summoning a Servant in the first place, and if you'd rather not be here, we can send you back. I don't know what he said to you when he put in the call to the Throne, but I can guess that he'd rather have you aiding us of your own free will, rather than simply because he's your Master."

Kratos gave a small half-growl - while it was no secret of Kratos' feelings towards summoning a Servant, and it would have come out before long in the event Medusa chose to stay, it still rankled a bit to have Romani reveal his feelings, instead of Kratos himself. Still, it was a minor thing. "The Doctor speaks true, as did I. I wish for allies, not slaves, in this fight. The stakes are too high for anything else - we fight for all of humanity, against a foe powerful enough to wipe them all out, in an instant."

Medusa peered at him long enough that he began to wonder if she was not trying to petrify him, and failing. Likely not, the blindfold was probably there to prevent her from turning people to stone with a casual glance - another difference between the Gorgons of the two worlds. Those he had fought had had little care to the harm their eyes might cause.

"May I have some time to consider - and to observe this foreign god?" she asked. "Should we be threatened, I swear I will obey any commands given in the heat of combat - and feel free to use a Command Seal to force me to kill myself should I prove treacherous. But, if I am to serve a god, I would know the god I am to call Master."

Kratos could feel himself bristling, but held onto his temper with only a small bit of effort. Through gritted teeth, he looked to the four others gathered in the room with him. "Is this acceptable, Doctor Romani?" A nod. "Then, yes, Medusa, you may have your time."

He raised a finger. "Only one thing. Do NOT call me 'Master'. I dislike the term. Kratos will suffice, as it suffices for Caster to address me."

Medusa stared down at him, never having returned to her seat. "Very curious."

The Simulator again rang with the sound of combat. Axe vs spear, today, Leviathan Axe vs Draupnir, Kratos having handed the ring to Cu almost as soon as they had entered the room.

Mash was showing Medusa around the facility, as Kratos still at times got turned around trying to find his way in the sprawling building, and wasn't fully familiar with the various functions of Chaldea, though his ignorance was shrinking day by day. Da Vinci had almost immediately waved Kratos off when he began to ask her about today's lessons.

"Oh, I can tell, you need to hit something after all that, and there's a perfectly durable Irishman right here JUST for that purpose. Go on, get it out of your system - it was a BIG step for you to do this, and we all appreciate you stepping out of your comfort zone like that for us. So go take some time for yourself, go roll around with Cu in the mud and let Auntie go over this summoning data."

As he had left the conference room, a snickering Cu hot on his heels, Da Vinci had caught his eye.

"And Kratos, really, thank you. For both doing this, and for being willing to trust yourself, even a little bit more than you might have yesterday. I know you won't let yourself down."

The woman believed in him almost as much as Mimir did. He would have once thought her naive, if he wasn't certain that there was a core of molten steel hidden behind her smiles and unorthodox behavior.

It was…nice. At times, he truly did not know how he had lived his life without the Smartest Man Alive by his side, as a true friend. Maybe, at some day, Da Vinci would hold a similar place in his life - for all that she would be only a temporary companion in his journey.

He still dreaded the day the two of them might meet. For all that he valued Mimir, the head was at times insufferable, and Da Vinci shared that trait in abundance.

Kratos caught Cu's thrust on his shield, careful to angle his block so that the spear tip came nowhere near to penetrating the shield itself - Cu was far, FAR too fond of Draupnir's ability to duplicate itself - shoving the spear aside, and pushed inward, seeking to body-check Cu with his full weight.

Cu simply allowed the spear to retreat back into the ring and just leapt, straight up, easily clearing Kratos in a bound. As he jumped, he span about, so that he landed with Kratos' back to his fore, and, lighting fast, extended the spear to tap on Kratos' shoulder.

Kratos huffed. "Dead, or crippled. Round to you, Caster."

Cu belted out a laugh. "So that's what, 33 to 9, in favor of you? I'm closing the gap!"

Kratos grunted. "I regret being unable to fight you as a Lancer. The speed you claim to possess would be an interesting challenge." He settled back into his stance, axe held at the ready.

Cu slid Draupnir's point low to the ground, eyes watching Kratos carefully. "If I'm not the fastest Servant on the Throne as a Lancer, I'm easily top 4. Not counting Riders and their mounts - which is just cheating if you ask me." He frowned. "Though that Rider you summoned today at least does it the honest way. She's fast on her feet without having to use wheels or sails like some of the other Riders I've met."

Kratos made a noise of vague assent, then sprang forward, axe darting for the man's chest. Cu slapped it aside with his spear, then ducked as Kratos jabbed his shield straight at his head, then somehow twisted himself into a backwards roll as Kratos' foot attempted to sweep him off his feet.

Cu came back to his feet with a flourish of his spear and began poking at Kratos, thrusts screaming through the air, attempting to keep the Spartan at range.

Kratos met the thrusts with his axe, parrying patiently, waiting for his chance. "What more can you tell me of the Medusa of your war?"

"Not a ton. Her Master was some weedy little runt of a mage - but something always felt off about that. He didn't feel like he had enough mana to light a candle, much less summon a Servant. And she didn't seem to like him much, either." Cu overextended, just a fraction, on one thrust, and Kratos let the spearhead slide through the gap in his axe's head, then twisted it, trapping the spear there.

He knew Cu would, and did, immediately dismiss the spear - with any other weapon, he would have had it trapped, and could have brought his strength to bear - but Draupnir was not any other weapon. But by dismissing it, Cu was unarmed for a split second - it was not a good option, but Cu knew better than to pit his strength against the Spartan's, and chose the better of two bad options.

Kratos used the second he had the spear trapped to pull, not Cu to him, but to pull himself forward, into Cu's zone. Before the Servant could reform the spear, Kratos' shield was colliding with Cu's chest, and then Kratos was heaving with the shield, lifting the man bodily, and hurling him across the room.

Cu landed on his feet, Kratos hadn't put enough force into the blow to truly harm the Servant, and throwing someone with his shield was an inexact science at best - and Cu was far too comfortable in the air for a weakened blow like that to truly rob him of his inhuman grace.

But it did take Cu a microsecond to get his feet under him, and in that time, Kratos was all over him. His axe flashed, targeting the Servant's head, limbs, gut, chest, and, to Cu's credit, his defense with Draupnir was masterful. The spear's head was everywhere, intercepting strike after strike, valiantly delaying what was like to be a doomed effort - for Kratos had managed to get far enough into Cu's zone that the spear's length was an active disadvantage. The question was if Cu could survive the barrage long enough to find a window to disengage.

Not this time.

Cu was a split second late, the spear having been knocked far enough out of alignment that he was unable to reposition it in time, and Kratos turned the axe so that he merely slapped Cu across his head with the flat of the blade. "Dead," he proclaimed.

Cu groaned, as he took a step back. "And there goes my win streak." Shaking his head, the Servant walked to the edge of their area, and snatched a bottle of water from the ground, and took a long drink. "Back to the topic, when the Rider of my war got brought back wrong by Saber, she started petrifying certain people and keeping them in some kind of messed up stone garden or something in the shell of the house that had been her base during the War. And the centerpiece of that little display was the brat who had been her Master."

He shrugged, tossing Kratos a bottle of water. "Not sure what went on between them, but that at least proves that she can still do that turn people to stone trick. She didn't try anything like that on me when I fought her the first time, but she still had her eyes covered then. And she'd have pretty much announced to everyone what her True Name was if she uncorked that. After she got turned, the blindfold was always off, which would have made fighting her a pain if she hadn't tipped her hand with her little collection like that."

"Otherwise, mostly what I've already told you. She was wicked fast, and those nails you saw her holding - she could do something with them to where she could make the chains attached to them invisible. Never really got to see her go all out, the second time we fought, I made sure to hit her hard and fast in one of my prepared killboxes. I'd have loved to have a good fight with her, but Saber's merry band of cutthroats wouldn't stand by and let me have a proper duel."

"Anything else, skills, Noble Phantasm, yada yada, you'll have to do something revolutionary like asking her yourself."

Kratos gave a noise of assent. "When next I cross paths with her."

'When' turned out to be the next day, as he entered the library for his latest battle with the English language.

Mash, of course, was already there and waiting on him, as ever. Elron, the woman who had been introduced to him as the keeper of Chaldea's records, looked up from her work and gave him the same brief nod she seemed to give everyone that entered into her domain. It was only after he had nodded in kind that he noticed, seated at one of the far tables, was the Heroic Spirit he had summoned yesterday, one of the devices Chaldea used to store information in her hands.

If she was surprised to see him, he couldn't tell. Her expression was carefully neutral. "M….Kratos. Do you require me for something?"

He shook his head. "No. Though I would speak with you once I am finished here."

She nodded, then returned her eyes to what she had been reading.

He sat, and attempted to put her out of his mind as Mash began the lesson. But as the minutes passed, he could feel her eyes on him. It was distracting, in an area where he needed his full focus. (Atreus had to have gotten his gift for languages from his mother.)

He slipped Freya's band back onto his arm. "Ask your question, Rider."

She stared back, unperturbed at having been caught. "Can….you not read, Kratos?"

"Not English, nor can I speak it. The band around my arm allows me to hear all languages in a manner I can understand, and does the same for my words. But I can read Greek, and the common tongue of Midgard - I am told it does not have an equivalent in this day and age, but forms the basis for a handful of other languages." He gestured at his teacher. "So I am learning at Mash's capable hands, as my son taught me to read the language of Midgard, and my wife taught me to speak it." He pointedly ignored the flush of red that colored Mash's face.

"That explains all the Post-It Notes around the base with those runes on them." She considered "I understand learning to read English, as this is a Clock Tower facility, nearly everything here is written in English….but why learn to speak it, when you have no need to learn it?" She gestured at his arm. "You have the means to speak it as is."

"The band can be broken, or taken from me. Nor does it work over the communicators Chaldea uses during a campaign - though Da Vinci claims she has added the Midgardian language into her translating spell." He could have also just spoken Greek with no difficulty, as the current dialect still resembled the language of his time, but he was far more used to the Midgardian tongue these days.

"Should the band be destroyed in a battle, I would be unable to give or receive orders, or understand warnings. It is a weakness that can be exploited, so I seek to eliminate that weakness." He made a considering noise. "It is also possible that, when I return to my land, someday, I will need to know this language, should the history of my world unfold in a manner that makes English a dominant language across the planet, as it is here."

Add to that the idea that, in that scenario, he would be the one translating for the Smartest Man Alive, and he felt the irony - and yes, amusement - of that day would be well worth the effort in learning this incomprehensible language.

(It had NO coherent rules! Pure chaos would be more logical than English, he swore.)

"How practical of you. Consider my curiosity assuaged, I will leave you to your lesson with my apologies for disturbing it." She returned her attention to the tablet in her hand.

"Only…..to see a god acknowledging a mortal as their better in an area, and deining to learn from them." She shook her head, her eyes still on the words on her screen. "As deities go, you are an unusual one, Kratos. More tolerant than Athena ever was with Arachnae."

Kratos tensed, half-expecting the mention of Athena to summon his tormenter in a flurry of barbed words and mocking laughter, but if the goddess heard, she did not feel like putting in an appearance today - if she even could, and her appearance with the Blades was more than a singular thing, in an extraordinary circumstance.

He was about to slide the band back off his arm, and resume the lesson, when the door to the archives hissed open, and Romani entered, Da Vinci following in his wake.

Romani, if anything, looked more tired that usual today, but beneath all that, seemed to be glowing with accomplishment. "Sorry to interrupt, but it couldn't wait. As of a few minutes ago, managed to get the location and time period for the first Singularity nailed down."

"Then…?" began Mash.

He nodded. "It's time."

AUTHORS NOTES: As if it could have been anyone else. Lets see, both Greek, both divine. Both killed their families. Both turned into monsters after that act. Both are filled with TONS of self-loathing. Both use chain weapons. Both have some level of enmity for the Greek gods (it's debatable how willing she was with Poseidon - sometimes I see it written as she was, others, not so much, and the Greek Gods weren't really good at being told 'no', and then Athena cursed her with snek hair). Oh, and one killed the other in their universe, then used her head as a weapon for the remainder of that game.

Medusa was always the character I saw Kratos summoning when he did. It also helps that she's not super story-relevant (at least, not RIDER Medusa), so we don't run into minor oddities by having say, Odysseus long before he's your #1 foe in Atlantis, or Mo before her two major story appearances in London and Camelot, or summoning Archer Gil so we can have the double-Gil-bow in Babylon. Though it will mean trauma for Medusa as she meets her two sisters in Septem and Okeanos respectively, as well as the absolute HELL it's going to be for the girl in Babylon. Beyond the absolute hell that Babylon already is, I mean.

Generally, any summons that happen I largely want to be Servants that have already appeared - and/or aren't story relevant to future chapters, to a degree. Mo could be on the table AFTER London, or Beowulf or Atlantae after their debut chapters (though Atlantae is complicated as she's an antagonist in Orleans then an ally in Okeanos, and then is also in Lostbelt 1 in her Berserker form - girl gets work), etc etc. But I'm probably going to try to avoid having duplicate Servants if at all possible - and yes, Medusa does violate this in Babylon - I am aware of my hypocrisy here.

Snakes smell by flicking their tongues out. Medusa has a nose, so she'll use that, rather than any flicking her tongue out. She's already enough of a sexpot as is.

Medusa's also usually 'oh, Master, whatever, use me as a tool as you see fit'. Kratos being a god changes things for her, at least to me. Hence her wanting some time to see if he's better than the gods that did her wrong in her time. At least, that's the reasoning for why I did that with her.

OOC Kratos: 'Fou can have my bacon when he EARNS it.'

Went back into Chapter 4 and modified some of the () into [] to really highlight when it's that jackass bonded to Mash talking in her head - not that she can hear it. I realized that I needed a way to differentiate, hence this. Also corrected a couple of spelling and grammar errors in earlier chapters. And modified a little of the dialogue in Chapter 10 to more directly spell out that Ares had Kratos doing less than savory things.

There's a ton of different translations on the summoning chant. Some fic authors I see only doing from the 'My will', others do a longer one, some omit it completely. If there's any BIG bungles on it, let me know and I'll go back and correct it - I originally wrote it when I didn't have immediate youtube access and was going off a Type-Moon wiki. Later I got the dub of Rin summoning Archer to compare as well as the big Fate/Zero mass summoning - or at least, that was the plan that I may or may not have followed through on.

Cucumbers apparently were introduced to Europe by either the Greeks or the Romans - given that one of the first real records is a Roman Emperor (Tiberius) having them on his plate regularly, I'm going with the Romans having introduced them, so, past the time of Kratos' Greece.

The tally between Kratos and Cu is something I'm still fiddling with. As a Caster, Cu should NOT be beating Kratos often, if at all. It'd be a much closer tally if he was a Lancer - Cu's an absolute BEAST as a Lancer, but not as a Caster - particularly as Cu isn't using much of his runes or spells in the Simulator to avoid damage - same reason Kratos wouldn't be using Runic Attacks if they weren't on perma cooldown - or being saved for big moments, since I'm starting to come around to him maybe uncorking them from time to time. Also, you don't use Ivaldi's Anvil in a friendly spar. If you think it should be more even, I'll entertain arguments, however.

Re: Kratos summoning a Servant despite his misgivings. I really, REALLY tried to justify his mindset going ahead with summoning a Servant. In GoW: Ragnarok, he accepted being the general of the armies of the realms despite wanting to avoid war for almost all of the game - when he finally saw the need to topple Odin, and because his allies had had faith in him to be that general - mostly Freya, but the rest aided and abetted in their own ways. I tried to show his new allies, for all that they're new to him, are similarly trying to support him and believe in him like his family back in Midgard did for him. If anything I'm much happier with this chapter than I was the last one.

My JAlter is much more like the foulmouthed chunni JAlter she turned into rather than the Orleans JAlter we got at the beginning.

Next time - we start Orleans, and the fun really begins.

As I said elsewhere, I've got until January 5th off (the usual time I take off every year, from Christmas to Wrestle Kingdom), so I don't know how much I'll be writing during the vacation, and how much I'll just be bundled under some blankets playing Fate Samurai Remnant and possibly the Valhalla DLC - as well as my yearly Christmas rewatching of the Lord of the Rings trilogy - Extended Editions, of course. So there might be a bit of a wait for the next chapter - fair warning.

Everyone out there have a safe and happy Christmas. And for those who play FGO, enjoy the raids and punching Koya in her STUPID FACE.