Fate: Unbalanced Scales

by SomeWritingGuy

Become a Hero of Justice or protect his family? A question one man answered confidently each time it was asked. When the war he had been preparing his entire life for finally arrives, the question changes into a choice: Be the monster everyone believes him to be or watch his family die one by one. [Pre F/Z to post F/SN] (The long-awaited return, thank you for waiting!)

41. The Hidden Magician

Howdy all, long time no see again! I know this update comes as a shock, both because I've been gone so long as because it's not usually when I post new chapters. I used to post at midnight on the dot my time to see how high I could get viewer peaks, but I figure with how inconsistent my update schedule is (Between tomorrow and never lol) that it doesn't make much sense to keep that up.

Once again, can't promise more consistency. Still dealing with the lack of writing passion though occasionally it flares up and I get work done on a chapter as you can see. Balancing these bouts of passion and all of life's other problems is a true conundrum.

But that's all from me, hope you enjoy!

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"What?"

If it wasn't shouted aloud in disbelief, it was the only thought that resonated through both mind and expression. Everyone, including Lectra herself, was stupefied by the declaration.

Landing a thumb against her own chest, she furrowed her brow. "You aren't talking about me, are you?"

Zepia nodded slowly, deliberately. "Indeed, there's no mistaking it."

Even Amber seemed to be stunned into static silence. No longer did she seem concerned with making a hasty retreat. Instead, she seemed to be appalled at the situation she found herself in. Lectra's arm gradually drifted to her side before she looked down at it as if expecting some drastic change.

The vampire took a step forward and Shirou snapped from his thoughts in an instant. Swords projected and fired, creating a threatening barrier between the dead apostle. Whether he was lying or not, he wouldn't let someone allegedly so powerful endanger his friends.

Clucking his tongue at the display, the vampire turned to the assassin. "Regarding that favour," he began.

"Just try it you son of a bitch," Shirou menaced, taking a step forward as swords filled his mind. He knew he could handle Amber alone. With Lectra and Gray, they would have enough firepower to take on the undead as well.

The vampire's gaze snapped in his direction and Shirou felt as if a bucket of ice water was dunked on him. The sensation was enough to stop the boy in his tracks and draw a breath from his lips. Brow set, fangs revealed and expression twisted in anger, it, along with the chill, disappeared in an instant. Face softening, the vampire turned sideways and adjusted his ascot while clearing his throat. "I have no intention of causing you undue harm. Besides, such an order would be an outright death sentence, considering she is already trapped." Taking a step away, toward Amber, the vampire seemed careless of the ether clumps. The clumps themselves shuffled as if nervous, as if uncertain whether they were to attack or hold fast.

They decided on the latter in the end, as the vampire peered down at the captured woman. Looking up from her perilous position, her face grew angry. "Gonna ask to suck my blood, you freak?"

Zepia chuckled humorlessly, once. "Nothing so barbaric. The favour I ask of you is to drop your contract on one Shirou Emiya."

He didn't recall ever giving his name yet the vampire already knew it. The feeling of being a step behind everyone else irked him. Just how much did this man know?

"But that would-"

"I'm more than capable of covering any potential financial shortfall. Your convictions orbit money, do they not?" It was an entirely logical outlook of the situation, disregarding any potential emotional involvement. Perhaps his father had slighted or slaughtered her family and this was her form of revenge. Whatever the case, he doubted her agreement would be so simple to acquire.

The woman allegedly named Amber twitched within her ether bindings. She paused long enough to look around her and gauge her situation one last time. "Alright, fine, but I want protection from my employer."

"That can be arranged," the vampire replied seamlessly. Wordlessly, the vampire turned his head to face Lectra, who was still obviously out of it.

Understanding his silent request, Shirou nudged her side and motioned toward Amber, urging her release. With a soft apology, the ether binds released and the clumps standing around her shuffled backwards while sinking into the ground.

Lifting her feet and exploring the ground to ensure she was, in fact, free to move, Amber rubbed at her wrists idly. "This is really awkward now, so can I get out of here before I die of embarrassment?"

"Just wait a minute," Shirou interrupted. "Since you aren't under contract anymore, could you tell me your real name or who hired you?"

There was a great deal of inner turmoil within the woman's mind. After a lengthy debate with herself, she settled on one word: "Hali."

"Hired by Anniliina Edelfelt, I presume," Zepia added. Based entirely on the fact Hali's head snapped in his direction, he was correct. She didn't confirm such a statement, however.

Shirou didn't miss the name, but it didn't surprise him at all. While unaware of the fact Luvia had a relative, the eye-for-an-eye attempt was expected and fitting. A notable takeaway was that this Anniliina hadn't taken to doing the work herself. Despite being the assumed current head of the Edelfelt family, a well-known family of mercenaries, she had hired another, an outsider. Shirou could see three potential explanations: Anniliina wasn't powerful enough to deal with him herself, she didn't wish to involve herself and dirty her own hands, or she hadn't taken the same path to learn combat magecraft as Luvia. They were all equally likely options that he would need to discover. This problem wasn't going to simply go away, and with the Edelfelt's wealth, freelance assassins would become a common occurrence.

In the end, he'd been extraordinarily lucky this time.

Had she wanted to be perfectly vengeful, Hali would have been sent after Illya. With Shirou and Lectra being away, she was practically undefended. Perhaps Anniliina wasn't aware of her existence?

It wasn't that he discounted Rin or Illya's abilities, but neither would have been able to handle Hali, especially if caught by surprise. He had nearly been killed himself after all.

Returning to the conversation at hand, Gray took a step forward. "Sir, why are you here? Do you know why this village was abandoned?"

The vampire hummed questioningly, paused, then placed one fist against his mouth. "At which point would you like me to begin? You'll need to excuse me, this experiment goes back quite a number of years."

"Experiment?" There were a number of emotions in Gray's voice, yet Shirou didn't detect sadness among them.

The vampire nodded. "As you're well aware, this cemetery is quite peculiar. Rightly so, considering they bear a contract."

For once, Shirou felt in the loop. The word, when used by a magus, was distinct. A Geass, while a contract, was never referred to as such. The contract in question likely related to the other component of the Mage's Association, Atlas. Rin had given him a briefing of the institute and its aliases in the past and she hadn't missed mentioning their seven contracts. Allegedly some misguided effort to garner support in the past, it is known as their greatest blunder. Whoever held one of the contracts, had the unrestricted, unquestioning cooperation of the entirety of Atlas. Recovery of these contracts had been Atlas' primary goal for as long as any can seem to recall - and that of anyone with a dubious goal that needed accomplishing.

"Isn't that pretty sensitive information to tell a few random magi?" Shirou asked quickly.

"I'm not worried," Zepia passed off. "If recovering it were easy, I would have done it myself." Slowly, the vampire's smile widened and Shirou latched on to the secondary intention: He was looking for help.

He had begun denouncing the premise, claiming in his own mind that he had no need to hold Atlas' leash. However, he was reminded of his agreement with Touko. The true extent of Atlas' capabilities was a mystery, but they had to have something capable of dealing with Aoko.

Giving his head a metaphorical shake, he noted the fact that not even the head of Atlas, an undead apostle to boot, was capable of recovering the contract. Seeking their help would be trading one impossibility for another.

He spared a glance toward Gray, who wore his own expression. Affirmed by her look, he refaced Zepia and declared, "We're not interested."

The undead's face shifted into disappointment. "How unexpected, truly." Turning, the man began to walk in the direction he entered. "If that is your decision then my role as spectator here has concluded."

"Wait, how am I supposed to get my money?" Hali called out, but the vampire merely raised one hand over his shoulder and assured it would be handled as he continued walking. Softly, she cursed under her breath, then looked back to Shirou. "No hard feelings, right?"

Shirou shook his head. "It's your job, I get it." He wondered if this grudge was going to become a problem. He wasn't thinking of, or trying to, avoid the sin of killing Luvia, but having every assassin and freelancer after him wouldn't help him or Illya. Could he nip the problem in the bud before he had to deal with it personally? "But I want you to send a message to your employer." Hali sighed, nodded and waited patiently as he formed his words. "Tell Anniliina that I'm sorry. I know I can't fix what I've done and I imagine revenge is the only solution she can think of." He paused for a moment, considering if there was anything else he needed to say. He doubted a mercenary family would accept an apology. "But sending hitmen and women after me is a waste of her time," he defied. "I won't spare anyone else she sends after me."

"Sure," Hali agreed hastily, eager to leave as soon as possible. "I'll be sure to let her know." Waiting a half beat to see if anything else was needed of her, the woman absconded before she could be tied down with more questions. As she left, Shirou ensured they truly were alone with a quick trace before checking in on Lectra who was still in her own thoughts.

Moving into her distanced view, she jarringly snapped back to reality once asked if she was alright.

"Yeah, I guess," she dismissed. "It's kind of shocking to be told you're a magician, especially when it's the first."

"It definitely explains how you could develop your magecraft so quickly." Aside, to himself, Shirou concluded her magic to be directly related to her father's disappearance. He may have left quickly after passing the magic on if he were being tracked or in danger. One last-ditch effort to protect his daughter. Heartless as it may have been, it had at least been effective. She'd been able to grow up without ever being discovered.

"You know, if the rules of TV shows and video games tell me anything, the first is the strongest." Her eyes focused and a look that sought guidance turned her soft grin into an uncertain, weak smile. "So what do I do now?"

The two held each other's gaze for some time. When they first met, Lectra had just been someone else that happened along his path. Over time, they'd grown from simple colleagues to friends. She was another person he needed and wanted to protect, to keep safe. It was a tad ironic, considering she was bound to out-power him in the coming time, being a magician. Her question asked for direction, but he wouldn't make any decisions for her. "What do you want to do, now that you know?"

"Can I still study at the Clock Tower?"

"Why not?" Gray asked. "The only other magician I have to reference is the Kaleidoscope, but even being the Vice Director's most hated enemy, he's permitted to live and be present within the Tower."

Shirou nodded. "Besides, if anyone tries to hurt you before you're strong enough to take them on yourself, I'll be there to back you up."

Lectra furrowed her brow. "Wait a minute though, don't I become a sealing designate if everyone knows about this?"

"I don't think that happens with magicians." Shirou looked to Gray for guidance but the girl merely shrugged. The answer was unsatisfying but realistic. It wasn't like a magician appeared every week for them to base their expectations on. In her current state, she wasn't strong enough yet to be unattainable by the Tower which meant a designation was possible. "If it happens, I've already told you I'll be there." He was already on the edge of being discovered and designated anyway. If he could add magic to his potential resources, he'd only be better off himself.

Taking in a deep breath and holding it a moment, the girl moved her arms to clap the sides of her thighs before exhaling. "Well, I guess I'd like to finish my studies before moving on. I'll just take things as they come after that."

"Education is always good to have," Shirou agreed.

He'd been led into a verbal trap. The sudden, smug grin on Lectra's face told him that much. "So's practical knowledge, so you and I are going to spar regularly so I can learn my magic better." Shirou could think of worse sparring partners. While practicing against Lectra's magic wouldn't prepare him against Aoko, it would be interesting to see the capabilities of the impossible.

"I don't have a problem with it," he admitted.

Lectra deflated. "Aw man, I kinda thought you'd be more annoyed about it."

Huffing through the nose in mild amusement, he caught Gray gently lifting one side of her cloak behind Lectra to flash Avalon in a silent question. Slightly shaking his head, Shirou turned in the direction Zepia walked and made the first few steps through the muck. "We should head back, we've done all we came to do."

Agreeing, the trio trudged through the swamp and trees before hopping a wrought-iron fence back into the village. Reconnecting with the road to where the bus dropped them off, they neared where they first began before Gray spoke up. "You and Sir share the same luck, Shirou." The comment by Gray was confusing, and his look evidently provoked explanation. "Whenever I travel with either of you, we seem to encounter the strangest of people."

He considered his history, then moved further beyond. "Actually, it's the entire Emiya family." Kiritsugu and Norikata weren't spared from their share of odd characters and the harshness of reality either. Maybe if he took in all the bad luck, Einzbern could claim all the good.

A dozen seconds later, Gray posited something new. "Do you think Sir knew?"

Shirou blinked in time with a snap inside his mind. Rin hadn't noticed, but she wasn't infallible. A number of thoughts raced through his mind in an instant. Most of the man's actions could be excused with other rationales, but one stuck out clearly.

The El-Melloi Clubroom.

Gray, the physical manifestation of Artoria Pendragon, owner and wielder of Rhongomyniad.

Svin, the alleged pinnacle of beast-type magecraft users.

Flat, a prodigy whose unbridled potential and ability to exceed expectations was capped only by incompetence and naivety.

Illya, the last homunculus of renowned master alchemists and founding family of the Holy Grail system.

Shirou, the embodiment of a sword, son of the magus world's equivalent to the boogeyman and user of a reality marble.

Lectra, the formerly unknown wielder of the first magic.

While each of them were oddities or misfits, together there was enough potential and power to strong-arm the Clock Tower in its entirety. Of course, it was none other than Lord El-Melloi the Second sitting atop them all, leash in hand.

He'd been right after all. Regardless of how it might seem, a magus was always a magus.

"That son of a bitch," he murmured under his breath, already working on damage-control plans. His first step would be reclaiming Avalon when their environment was more private.

… … …

… … …

Rin used one hand to guard her mouth while the other fist rested on her hip. With how often she adopted the pose lately, she could file for a trademark. With a flare of her fingers, a tilt of the head and a rise of one shoulder, she claimed: "Maybe magic isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"That's what you got from that?" Shirou asked in disbelief.

"You're not a magus but could take on Berserker and come out alive. Lectra is apparently a magician and Caster was able to hold his own against the best she could throw at us while he was distracted, bolstered with Luvia's gems no less. Even weak servants are stronger than true magic it would seem." The woman shrugged, then moved the hand at her face to join its counterpart on the other side of her hip. "I'm just glad I made the right decision back then."

"Isn't it a little shady on Waver's part? How long has he known she was a magician?"

"From the start," Illya added, head resting sideways on the table as she rolled a tube of mascara back and forth with one finger. "It's obvious to us now, and he seems like the kind of guy to notice things and research them to death."

Rin nodded. "She's right, more so when it comes to nuanced information." Turning her attention to Shirou, the woman narrowed her eyes. "What's on your mind?"

He's just using us for his personal gain, isn't that a little wrong to you? Is what he might have said, had he not reminded himself before starting the sentence that he had done the same himself to others numerous times. Instead, he went with: "We'll just need to be careful so we don't get roped into anything."

"His plan is pretty obvious to me," Rin claimed and Illya nodded awkwardly in agreement.

"He's already a Lord, now he's assembled a number of popular and/or special students," Illya began.

Rin picked up where she left off. "Once the first magic is rediscovered by the rest of the magus world, he's bound to leverage all of your potential and abilities to his advantage within the Lord circle as a status symbol."

Looking bored and continuing to roll the mascara tube back and forth, Illya spoke as if her words were common sense. "He might even try to reclaim the entire department the last El-Melloi lost in the confusion." Her tone quickly grew mocking, betraying her sarcasm. "After all, he's such a good teacher, being able to train so many freaks and special case magi." The albino girl lifted her head from the table and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Synopsis complete, Illya lifted her head and the two nodded toward one another to highlight their perfect synergy before she rested on the table again. Looking between the two, Shirou furrowed his brow, pursed his lips and said, "You two scare me sometimes."

"We're just thinking about it as if we were in his shoes."

"Exactly, it's simply what a magus would do, regardless of who they were."

Shirou couldn't stop himself from asking. "So you'd do the same?"

Rin seemed to be caught up in her own thoughts for a moment. "Well, no. But I'm not as invested with my position in the Tower as most."

"So what do we do about Lectra?" Shirou asked. "Do you think word about her being a magician will spread around the Tower?"

"I doubt it," Rin denied immediately while turning toward her desk. Carefully, she opened up a slinged bag and began filling it with books she had been reading earlier. "She's flown under the radar for the past few years. I can't imagine a sudden breakthrough unless someone intervenes, someone like-"

"Lord El-Melloi the Second," Illya finished monotonously, with one cheek pressed up against the table. Lifting her head, the woman stretched languidly in her seat, then looked straight at Shirou. "When's the Magus Tournament?"

He thought it over for a moment. "I think it starts in a month or so, why?"

She raised one eyebrow. "Lectra likes fighting, the tournament is a large-scale fighting event," she trailed on. Sensing his reply, she tacked on, "Although, she might not join now. If she's smart enough to realize the danger, that is."

"So his original plans might need some coaxing," Rin concluded, throwing the flap over her bag and slinging it onto her shoulder.

"Not much we can do about it though," Shirou begrudged. "Any leverage I might have had has been spent."

"Likewise," Rin agreed.

"I didn't have any to begin with," Illya concluded idly.

A tapping upon the window alerted everyone to a crow as it twitchingly peered into the room. When nobody moved immediately, it tapped on the window a few times more. Curious, Shirou approached and — when the bird refused to fly away — opened the window.

Instead of scaring off, the bird took a step into the sill, giving Shirou a better angle to see a device in a pouch upon its chest. Rapidly bracing himself and tracing it to confirm it wasn't a bomb, he breathed out a sigh of relief as he recognized the internals of a cell phone.

He wasn't certain if the technological stigma still applied to the Edelfelt family, but he wasn't willing to say any tactic was off the table. Remotely detonated bombs were a shockingly effective tactic and tracking their origin was impossible.

Relaxed, Shirou removed the device from the carrier bird, which quickly left its perch and flew off, task completed. "What was that?"

"Someone sending a message, but I'm not sure if it's friend or foe." Flipping the device over and lengthways, he found the power button and turned it on. After a minute of screens and menus, it opened to reveal one missed call from an unknown caller. "Could either of you set up a quick bounded field?"

Illya took responsibility and got to work, establishing what was basically the magus equivalent of a privacy screen in a few moments. Once finished, Shirou returned the missed call and waited for whoever was on the other line to pick up.

It dialled twice before a familiar voice picked up and said: "Sure took him long enough. Your puppet is ready."

Relieved it was Touko — an odd thought all things considered — he released a soft breath. "That's great, how do you plan on getting it to me?"

"It's in London already, kid."

The mental gymnastics incited a second-long pause which precluded a "What?"

A soft laugh. "You got a pen?"

It only took a moment to project one. "Go ahead." Slowly, Touko read out an address that he wrote on his hand. Completed, he made sure not to dematerialize the pen and instead set it down carefully. If he did, the ink that had been projected alongside it would disappear as well. As for the address, from what he could recall about London, it was toward the northern edge, in the borough of Enfield. It'd be a small journey, easily accomplished within the day.

"It's a safe house of mine, so you could perform the process there, but you'll need to figure out what to do with the body that's left behind."

"Got it, thanks."

"Don't forget," she interrupted, waiting a beat as if to ensure he would listen to her next words. "I haven't done this out of the goodness of my own heart."

His eyes flickered back to the window. The bird hadn't returned. "Of course, how could I forget?"

"You'd be surprised."

There was no goodbye, only a soft tone that indicated the call had been disconnected. Drawing the phone from his ear and giving it a look of confirmation, a text from the same number he just called denoted a single word: "Destroy."

Obeying the command, he reinforced his hand and crushed the phone before depositing its remains into the trash. "Everything is ready for you," he summarized, giving a nod to Rin as well.

Huffing softly, the girl haughtily threw down her bookbag and planted both hands on her hips. "I guess I'll just change all of my plans then."

Illya on the other hand, seemed equal parts ecstatic and nervous as she shifted in her seat. "You don't mean we're going to do this right now, do you?"

"What better time?"

"I can think of a few," Rin murmured passively.

"Don't we need materials for this?"

Rin moved to her study desk where she reached underneath to collect a weekend duffle bag. Haphazardly, she tossed it to Shirou who struggled for a moment to catch the unexpected projectile. "Good thing I prepped everything in advance, just in case Touko didn't do it for us."

"How long does something like this take?" Shirou asked, adjusted the bag in his grasp and settled on the handle.

Rin shrugged while moving toward the entrance. "Eight?"

The other two were confused. "Hours?" Shirou questioned.

"Minutes?"

Rin slipped her feet into her shoes one at a time. "Exactly," she confirmed. "Now are we going to do this or not?"

… … …

… … …

Minutes had been the right answer. Overall, the process had been quite seamless, surprisingly. The building Touko had left the puppet in was entirely empty as if it had either been recently built or cleaned out by a previous resident. The age of the house leaned toward the latter. The lack of furniture left the living room entirely open. On the floor, atop a blanket, was a formless, featureless body whose only fitting description was puppet.

Rin's supplies came in handy, since Touko hadn't left them anything besides the puppet. The formalcraft terminology went above Shirou's head, but the two girls were more than capable with the prep work needed. No different than all the other times, he couldn't help but be amazed by their cohesion.

In their element, dealing with magecraft, he recognized just how far away he was from anything resembling a magus. Their work was seamless as if done a thousand times despite this being their first. Instructions and confirmation were relayed not before or after steps and preparation were conducted, but during.

Shirou couldn't even catalogue the steps and procedures in his own mind before Illya was directed to lay beside her new body and Rin began the process.

The experience of watching a blatantly artificial humanoid-shaped body morph and twist into a familiar visage was mildly disturbing, but Illya claimed the entire experience to be painless and seamless, likening it to waking up from a nap.

"It isn't normally that smooth," Rin commented in an aside. "This puppet is absolutely perfect in every way. It's impossible to differentiate your old, true body from this puppet. Even if it hadn't been made explicitly for you, there would have been little to no loss."

Illya lifted herself up from the floor, examined and prodded her new body, then looked toward her old — dead — self with a morbid sense of curiosity. "Do you think Touko ever gets used to looking at her own corpse?"

"She chopped her body into little pieces with a saw minutes after I killed one," Shirou recounted absently, staring blankly toward the floor as the memory returned to him. Snapping into the moment, he furrowed his brow. "I'd say she's pretty used to it."

"Speaking of," Rin began. "What's the plan for this?" she gestured to the body. "I assumed you had an idea."

"Is keeping it an option?" Illya asked, provoking a very strange look from the other two. Catching on, she back tracked and shifted to damage control. "Just, from a magus' perspective. There's a lot of research that could be done."

Tohsaka hummed softly. "I've heard a lot of strange, deranged things from magi before, but this is definitely near the top of the list." With Illya standing, Rin moved the blanket she formerly laid upon to cover up the body. "But, it is you after all so we'll honour whatever you want to do."

"It's weird being dead and alive," Illya noted. "Definitely prefer the living part though."

Were he in a similar position, he didn't think he'd focus too hard on the technical aspects. There was quite a lot to unpack when it came to souls and the defining point between life and death. He barely knew enough about it all to theorize a path to resurrection that the Grail could use, and that relied on special circumstances which applied only to homunculi. "Now imagine that you meet an older version of yourself from a different timeline that's trying to kill you."

"I can kind of relate now, but I think this is better in the end."

"You're still tall. Well, taller," Rin noted, disrupting the topic.

"Four foot eleven," Shirou detailed with a quick trace.

Turning to face him, Illya fired off a sharp glare. "Not that anybody is counting, but it's actually a hundred fifty-two centimetres. Might as well be five feet." She wasn't wrong, but he had been purposefully trying to get a rise out of her. The numerous measurements she'd been taking of her height after realizing she was growing once more hadn't gone missed.

"We should keep a close eye on you for any more changes besides height," Rin said, finishing her wrap-up job with Illya's former body. "Initially, I'd passed it off as a side effect of the new body given to you by the Grail but now I'm not so sure." Eyeing the girl up head to toe, Rin hummed inquisitively. "You've definitely filled out, quickly."

Holding a hand up to her ear, Illya gave a confused look to Shirou. "Do you hear that?" The confusion instantly shifted to dripping smugness. "Sounds like jealousy."

He didn't need to be a meteorologist to see the brewing storm. Rin's face flushed and the woman stood straight. "Jealous about what?"

"Where to begin?" Illya goaded, drawing the exact reaction she wanted. "Of my magecraft ability, my looks, my personality."

The bait was working, if Rin's agitated gaze was any indicator. Wanting to avoid being caught in the crossfire, Shirou made a hasty exit from the room as the snappy comments began flying. He caught the first one which was from Rin who shouted, "I put you into that body but I can still take you out!" Remaining to play mediator wouldn't gain him favour in either direction, he only stood to lose. Away from the living room, Shirou took the time to peek through the windows into the street outside. It seemed quiet, likely a deciding factor of establishing this house as a safe haven for sealing designates to conduct their business.

Though, he was curious as to why it was entirely empty without being a new structure. To satiate his curiosity, he laid a hand upon the window frame and closed his eyes. A tracing pulse raced through the house, detailing its design and cataloguing its lack of content, until it reached the basement. There wasn't access to the basement from the ground floor, but there was undeniably a workshop underground.

Alchemical supplies and devices far more useful in Illya's hands than his, along with a number of mystic codes stored within a wardrobe protected by bounded fields.

Access was achieved by a hidden hatch — also guarded by a plethora of bounded fields — along the outside perimeter of the house. If he had a mind to, he could easily sneak his way in and steal the contents. Angering Touko, however, didn't seem conducive to his overall well-being.

Letting sleeping dogs lie but noting it for the future, Shirou peeked back into the living room to see the battle had grown physical. Locked hand-in-hand, Rin was overpowering Illya easily by twisting both the smaller girl's hands to the point of squealing pain.

"Can we do this without any fighting?" Shirou chimed in, trying his best to put an end to things before they grew more heated. "Also, what if she's still getting used to her new body and you damage something?"

Contemplating the point for a moment, Rin relented and unclasped their joined hands. "Fine, but only because you should take things easy until you're perfectly comfortable with your new body." Her gaze seamlessly shifted from Illya to Shirou. "We can't take the train back to the Clock Tower with a dead body."

"We can't?" Shirou asked genuinely. "Aren't there bounded fields for this sort of thing?"

Rin shook her head. "There are, but that'd be too great a liability. If it faltered or failed for even one person, we could get in serious trouble with the Clock Tower."

"Couldn't you just hypnotise them if that happened?" Shirou tried to interject.

"We'd get rung over the coals for not doing our due diligence to protect the secret of magecraft. It's just not worth the risk, even if I could hypnotise any witnesses." Rin's face tightened abruptly as a thought crossed her mind. "Besides, that's not foolproof. The Tower would want us to kill them regardless of what we did."

The mention of killing witnesses to the world of magecraft brought back a memory that wasn't his own. He'd been stabbed in the heart and left to bleed out on the floor of… Homurahara Academy? He wore the same uniform and the floor looked the same, so it had to be.

As quickly as it arrived, the memory faded despite his attempts to hold onto it. The memory wasn't his, it certainly wasn't Kiritsugu's, so had that been one of Archer's memories? Of course, he'd been forced to capture the man's memories, but he still couldn't recall them on command, especially not memories that far back. They came in moments comparable to déjà vu.

Jarring back to the present, he recalled the issue at hand. "Right, then I'll see if Bazett is busy." Withdrawing his phone, Rin quietly motioned for Illya to help her as they positioned themselves at either end of the wrapped bundle. Selecting the contact and putting it to his ear, he watched with mild curiosity as the girls tried to move the body. Rin handled her end easily enough, but Illya struggled even though she had taken the easier end. It resulted in a half lift, half drag which left them awkwardly shuffling toward the front door.

On the third tone, the call was answered. Immediately, the noise of fabric and a clatter sounded before a huffing "Hello" sounded through. Asking what the noise was, she claimed, "I dropped the phone trying to answer it."

Mildly annoyed, considering he bought it for her, he asked the most relevant question. "Is it broken?"

A pause, likely one allowing her to look over the device. "Don't think so, but it's got a chip out of the side."

"So long as it works," Shirou passed off, deciding not to lose sleep over some broken plastic. "Are you busy right now?"

"Not entirely, what's up?"

"Could you rent a car and come pick us up?"

A longer pause. "I think so, yeah. With how often you need a car it might be cheaper to buy one outright."

"I'll think about it," he dismissed. Relaying the address, he finished by asking how long it was expected to take.

"Depends on the rental place. Probably within the hour."

Finishing the conversation, Shirou closed his phone, stuffed it back into his pocket and explained the situation to the other girls.

There wasn't anything left to do but wait.

… … …

… … …

Staring down at her outstretched hand, she flipped it over once, then twice, examining it for defects.

From her sleeve, the inky darkness of her clumps emerged and tightly coated her skin like a latex glove.

Lectra would never have claimed to have much in the way of direction or guidance in her life, but she was truly lost at the moment.

After being told, it seemed obvious, unmistakable, unmissable. At the same time, it seemed impossible that she could be a magician. Why hadn't her father told her? What did this mean for her? Would she become a sealing designate? Did they even do that for magicians?

Questions swirled within her mind as she absently watched her digits elongate and sharpen with nothing more than a thought.

With the next thought, the ether glove receded back into her sleeve where it could remain hidden. Clenching her hand, she could feel what was basically her own personalized suit of armour stiffen beneath her clothes.

It thought just like she did. It responded on its own and made judgment calls independent of her input. Sometimes, it even reacted before she could. Was that her magic? Had she been using it without even being aware? She just wanted to know what the First Magic was, so she could better train herself to use it, to understand it.

The questions didn't stop but the answers were absent. The last time she felt so lost, her father had disappeared.

Hearing a noise ahead, she looked up from her seated position to find Lord El-Melloi peering down at her. "You look out of sorts," he pointed out bluntly.

Stuffing both arms into the pouch of her hoodie, she sat straight and scrunched her face, conflicted. "Is it that obvious?"

"You don't wear pessimism very well, so it's easy to spot the difference from your typical cheery demeanor." Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a packaged pastry and offered it. Wrapped in cellophane, the packaging didn't bear any branding, meaning he'd picked it up from the café within the building. She recognized it well since she bought them pretty regularly. Tentatively taking hold of the coffee cake, she found resistance as Waver held onto his end, refusing to let go. "What's going on?"

She'd been trapped by accepting the offering, though she hadn't exactly been avoiding it. "Just thinking about a lot of stuff."

Releasing the pastry, he made an affirming hum. "So it would seem. You've been doing so ever since you came back from your little trip."

Tightening her jaw, she couldn't think of a way out of the conversation that seemed plausible. She'd been told to keep her magic a secret until she was better prepared, but she could trust a Lord, couldn't she? He'd done right by her in the past, after all. "It just gave me a lot to think about, with Gray, I mean."

It was difficult to see, but she could almost detect disappointment. Or, perhaps, it was annoyance. He wasn't buying it. "Gray's situation is quite," he trailed off, seeking a word that didn't exist, "interesting," he settled on. "Though I'm certain you of all people wrestled out all the answers of her past long before this journey."

He wasn't wrong. She'd questioned Gray several times trying to discern the fascinating mystery behind her. Each time, she'd garnered a small nugget of knowledge that eventually formed a coherent story. "Some, but it was different being there in person."

Another soft hum, a twitch of the brow inwards and down. "Anything else happen?"

"A bounty hunter was after Shirou," she deflected, sliding past the insinuation.

"Certainly didn't take long for his enemies to seek him out," the man noted.

"I don't think there will be all that many, or any more at all," she shot down. "This was just the fallout from Luvia." It was odd to talk so coldly about someone she once called a close friend, but the situation back then and its results were the pinnacle of peculiarity. She still wasn't certain how she felt about it all. "Shirou gave them a good scare and they're supposed to deliver a message."

"Ah, of course. It's easy to forget about Anniliina."

"Hold on, wait, you knew about her?"

"Luvia's sister?" It was a rhetorical question as if he was more confused about her own lack of knowledge than anything. "Of course. The Edelfelt family is a rarity among magi due to their crest allowing two heirs. It helps that I looked into her family after I was initially introduced to her."

Lectra quirked one eyebrow. "Is that something you do with everyone you meet?"

"I try," he replied casually.

"Did you find anything out about me?"

"Surprisingly little," he noted. "Your lineage and past is a true mystery." Unconsciously, her shoulders fell. She'd silently been hoping he'd unearthed something no one else could. Whether planned or by sensing her disappointment, he reached forward to place a hand upon her shoulder. "It doesn't matter. The present is the current past and the past doesn't matter. The future is all you need to be concerned with, as it's all you can change and all that will affect you now."

The nugget of wisdom was unexpected but served its purpose. In the end, she would be the only one to decide her future. A dilemma rose to the surface of her mind and with it, uncertainty. Thinking to herself and absorbing his words for a while, the silence around them grew deafening. The questions and growing curiosity gnawed at her. Words, thoughts and queries bubbled to the surface of her mind but were dampened by Shirou's warning.

Eventually, she came to a conclusion: She wanted answers. No, she needed answers and she wasn't about to wait for them when they might never come about. If anyone could help her, anyone at all…

"Lord El-Melloi, what do you know about magic?"

… … …

… … …

"Believe it or not, this isn't the first time a magus has brought a corpse into the Tower." Octavia noted, accepting the recently filled piece of paper. "It's not even the fiftieth."

"I tried telling him, but he didn't believe me," Rin cast a look over her shoulder toward Shirou. Simultaneously, following Tohsaka's eyes, Octavia looked at him as well.

Holding eye contact with him, she offered a warning. "Avoid making too big a mess in your dorm as you will be charged for any damages or stains."

Shifting the covered body on his shoulder, Shirou followed Rin as they travelled back to her dorm. Once there, he laid the corpse upon the dining table once Rin finished preparing it.

Rin ordered Shirou to project a number of surgical instruments, some of which he was entirely unfamiliar with and couldn't produce. At the very least, he had all bladed implements figured out. "Seeing as how you're more familiar, I hope you won't mind taking the lead," the Tohsaka directed to Illya.

"Makes sense to me," Illya shrugged passively, drawing her hair back and tying it up so that it wouldn't get in the way of what was to come.

Shirou took a step back. "I can understand how nonchalant Illya is, but you've never been very comfortable around corpses, Rin."

There was a small tightening of her lips. Was she just putting up a strong front? "I'm trying to get better at it. I can still do something without liking it." Planting her fists upon her hips, she took a deep breath to affirm herself. "I'll be alright if I think of this as a research project and nothing more."

"Well I can't do it," Shirou admitted, receiving odd looks. "I get that I'm always the one with a strong stomach for this sort of thing, but it's different. I've already seen it once, I don't want to watch it again."

"Alright," Illya began softly, understanding his point of view. "We'll probably be a couple hours, so if you want to leave and come back give us at least that long."

He agreed, activated the watch to change into his suit and shifted to the door to let himself out. Behind, he could already hear the two girls enter a discussion of the coming task. Door clicking closed, someone struck his shoulder, rebounded and tripped over themselves as they struggled to regain their balance.

Eventually gathering themselves, they turned and apologized, allowing Shirou to see their face. He recognized them as one of El-Melloi's students, a recent transfer in fact. He hadn't gathered her name, but she definitely stood out from the rest of the class. That in and of itself said something, since the class was already a gallery of oddballs and unique individuals.

A short, younger girl clad in blinding pastel pinks and purples. Layered skirting and frills galore, he recalled the word "lolita" being used to describe similar outfits back home. Her hair matched her clothing's motif, featuring a gradient from pink at the top to a light purple at its ends. Covering her right eye was a stiff-looking star-shaped eyepatch. The remaining eye was a cold, steel blue. Below her one working eye was a small birthmark that visibly stood out in contrast to her pale skin. Recognizing him, her eye widened and the apology grew more sincere.

Wordlessly, Shirou slipped on his sunglasses and passed the issue off. "It's my bad, I wasn't watching for traffic." The relief she experienced was almost palpable. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

The woman cocked her head askew. "You haven't heard? The whole Tower has been electric!" A sinking feeling rapidly bloomed in his stomach. He didn't want to be right. "Someone is claiming to be the heir of the First Magic!"

Clenching his jaw, his thoughts jumbled. He'd told her not to reveal anything for this exact purpose. She wasn't ready for the publicity by far. To himself, he noted the distinction in the word "claiming". She'd still need to prove her declaration, it would seem. "That doesn't explain where you're going," he replied.

"Oh, well since it was Master V that discovered them, he's holding an announcement for three students of his class."

Master V, one of Waver's nicknames within the Tower. Most never dared use them outside of private conversations with friends. Among the others he'd heard, it was the most sensible. "I'm going the same way if you'd like company."

Without any subtlety at all, the girl eyed him head to toe, hummed and said, "I can work with it, sure!"

Caught somewhat off guard, he glided past the comment and started wordlessly walking down the hall. Expectedly, the girl began tagging along at his side. Their difference in height meant she struggled to keep up with his determined pace. "You never told me your name," he remarked.

An overdone gasp for effect precluded her reply. "For shame! Of all people, I'd expect the Son of the Magus Killer to know little old me!"

"Don't call me that," he menaced with more hostility than he intended. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted a small recoil from the girl. "Shirou works fine," he continued in a lighter tone.

"Well then, Shirou, you're welcome to call me Yvette Velvet." He could almost hear the smile on her face. "I think it rolls off the tongue, don't you?"

He knew Waver was an only child. Still, he decided to ask. "You're related to Lord El-Melloi?"

"Not yet," she clarified. "But soon I'll be one of his wives, so you might as well get used to it now."

He could feel her eyes trying to pry behind his sunglasses as she looked up to him from his side. She was gauging his reactions carefully, but to what end? Was it just to get a rise or something more sinister? Throwing it back at her might give him the answer. "I'm sure you'll make a fine wife for him." Surprise was first, followed by a cocky, pleased grin. Maybe she'd been genuine? Each magus he met served only to confuse him further. "Until then, what do I actually call you?"

"Lehrman, Yvette Lehrman," she stated smoothly. "I'm glad we can agree with one another. Now I only need to convince the professor himself."

"He's not interested?"

"He is, he's just playing hard to get," she explained.

Rounding a corner, they walked upon a group of magi talking within a circle a short distance away. Dominating much of the space, Shirou began shifting to one side to squeeze by. However, as the far side caught sight of him, they quickly dispersed and offered a wide path he didn't need to adjust for.

Passing through, he half expected a confrontation he'd need to deal with. It had been a while since someone tried stopping him and saying something foolish after all. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened. "Everyone else seems terrified by you, but you're not so bad," Yvette noted as they neared the next corner.

Before he could reply, he felt a tug at his upper arm. Wrapping his limb with her own, she peered up at him and giggled as they turned out of sight. As quickly as she grabbed hold of him, she let go and acted as if she hadn't done a thing. Bemused by the experience, he eventually asked what had just happened.

"Just modifying my image," she explained as if her words made any sense.

"I don't follow."

She made a pompous sigh and near-audible eye roll. "I suppose this is why you're just a bodyguard and not a magus." Ignoring the blatant jab at him, she seemed to recognize the meaning and spoke softer. "Well, obviously most people are scared of you, just like that group back there. Nobody really knows what you're capable of and only fools would take on the new Magus Killer."

"Where is all this fear coming from?" he asked, furrowing his brow. He was neither a magus nor an influential figure in any capacity beyond his father's past. It would make sense if there were a few small groups here and there that recognized his capabilities, but for seemingly everyone to be scared of him?

"Haven't you been paying attention?"

His confusion only deepened. "Attention to what?"

"Well, there's just been so much going on recently that everyone has been on edge. Heirs, Lords, professors all being killed or going missing in broad daylight." She paused, looked at him with a dazzling expression and asked, "Were you behind that one magus exploding in the middle of the Tower? I heard stories about it but thought it was just a silly rumour."

"Sure," he blurted out immediately without thinking.

Huffing, the girl withdrew. "You admit it, but in a way that I don't believe you." Inhaling deeply, she let out a small breath before continuing. "Anyway, all that certainly hasn't helped. But the rumours were the real nail in the coffin."

Truly a whirlwind of being confused, to understanding and back again. "What rumours?"

"Wait, that wasn't you either?" Offering an annoyed, sideways glance was enough of an answer. "A month or so ago, there were all these stories about how you slaughtered all of the other masters in that Holy War or whatever in Japan."

All was quite a stretch when he'd only killed two. Though, thinking back, there'd only been two in total that died. Technically, he was responsible for all of the deaths in the Grail War. "Do you know who started it?"

"Nope. They seemed to appear randomly and the stories were always a little different each time. Craid Vard might know better. He always knows the current rumour in circulation."

He hummed shortly. "Know where I could find him?"

"He's a botanist, so probably in a greenhouse," she shrugged. "I only know him by name."

He looped back from the tangent he had been taken down. "You never explained why you grabbed my arm."

Giving him an odd look, she clued in. "Guess I didn't. Well, anyway, you're scary around here, so if people see that we're close enough for me to touch you casually, they'll avoid messing with me too." Aside, lower and to herself, she quickly mumbled, "Not like many people do, but you never know."

Rounding another corner, he could see the doors to the El-Melloi classroom. Open, a few people milled around the outside, talking to one another as they looked within. Nearing, the few out in the hall caught sight and made room. Moving into the space, Shirou found the classroom rather packed. A quick count told him seventy-seven people in total, sixty-four of which were women. Had the ratio not been so blatant, he probably wouldn't have even noted it.

At the bottom of the room, standing in the center of the lower platform was Lectra, conversing with other magi Shirou only knew in passing. Surveying the room again, he found the likely suspects of the El-Melloi club room grouped together, along with several he recognized from the Magus Tournament.

"Looks like we missed the announcement." He turned to Yvette and found someone else he didn't know in her place. Apologizing for the embarrassing act, he tried to find his intended target and succeeded quickly. She'd already managed to find, navigate and affix herself to Lord El-Melloi's side, much to his visible chagrin.

Back to running solo, Shirou worked his way into the room, aiming toward Lectra. Along the way, he couldn't help but latch onto fragments of conversation, cluing in to the fact that nobody was really present to celebrate a new, alleged magician.

Most present seemed interested in speaking with the Lord himself. It didn't take a detective to discern they were using the event as an excuse to get to him without appearing desperate. Only a handful of magi were actually interested in the event itself.

It was difficult to tell from such a distance, but Lectra seemed particularly out of place, uncertain of what she was supposed to be doing or why she was even there by the looks of things. The nervous, jittery head and hand movements coupled with an increased heart rate and smile that was more strained than normal told him plainly.

Shifting through the crowd, he eventually reached the lowest level where he and Lectra met eyes. Immediately, her expression softened upon recognizing the familiar face. Extending a hand above her head in a wave — as if he hadn't already noticed her — she beckoned him over by name.

The crowd between him parted at her call and he moved through the gap to reach her. Eyeing the other magi around, they quickly dispersed, giving him enough of a moment to murmur, "I thought we spoke about this."

"We did," she confirmed. Taking a step forward, she threw both arms around him. Not expecting it, she managed to trap both his arms against his side. Awkwardly, he tried to reciprocate the hug from his elbow down. "But if I want to know what I can do, I need a teacher."

"I just hope you know what you're doing." Breaking the embrace, he brushed off his suit jacket to flatten it out. Clearing his throat deliberately to attract as much attention as he could, he followed Yvette's lead. There was merit in her words. If people knew Lectra had the Son of the Magus Killer on her side, they'd be less likely to try anything. "This definitely explains the results of that spar we had." It even felt awkward exiting his mouth. He wondered if his lack of confidence was as transparent as he felt.

"It was close," Lectra covered with a genuine smile. As always, she caught on quickly. "But after all, it's just Magus Killer, not Magician Killer."

"For now," he countered dryly. Try as he might, he'd eventually need to become exactly as she said. He still had yet to come to terms with his commitment.

Lectra was, understandably, caught off guard. Stiffening, along with the other magi who caught his response, she took a small step backwards. "You don't mean me, do you?"

"It was a poorly timed joke," he passed off honestly. "One that missed its mark."

Lectra let out a small breath. "Oh good, so I don't need to be worried," she leaned forward and winked forcefully, "yet."

He nodded, then turned his head to survey the rest of the room. Eyes were practically boring a hole through his skull and he knew precisely who the biggest contributor was. Locking eyes with Lord El-Melloi, it was difficult to discern exactly what his thoughts on the exchange were. One thing was certain: It wasn't favourable.

Feeling that he had already overstayed his welcome, Shirou partially turned to leave, but stopped short after reminding himself. He intended to tell her to speak with him later but remembered that such a comment wouldn't exactly fit the image he had just tried to build. Instead, he elected for something else entirely. "If you ever need some help, just let me know."

Nodding respectfully to the girl in question, he turned fully and made his exit. Beginning his trek through the halls back to Rin's room, it didn't take long for him to be ambushed. Hairs prickling along his neck, he looked over his shoulder and spotted Svin on a warpath.

Obvious who his fixation was with, Shirou faced the determined man and waited expectantly for what was about to come. Despite planning for a strike of some sort, nothing came. Instead, Svin approached, stood an arms length away and jabbed a finger close to, but not quite touching, Shirou's chest.

"Don't lie to me, Magus Killer," he started with, barely holding back the anger roiling within him. The distinct bitterness in the name he chose to use didn't go missed. From such close proximity, Shirou absently noted how bestial his features grew when angered. Svin neared closer with his body but kept his finger hovering without contact in a notable display of coordination despite his emotions. "I'll be able to tell if you do," he menaced. Even with so much effort, it wasn't as threatening as he wanted it to sound. Anyone with functioning eyes or ears was likely to pick up on his lies. Shirou entered every conversation expecting all of his lies — should he make any — to be noticed.

The man was awaiting a response, but Shirou didn't even know what he was expected to answer. "What are you talking about?"

"You got to go on a trip with Gray, what was that all about?"

Shirou furrowed his brow. That was where all the hostility was coming from? Sooner or later, Svin's jealousy and fixation surrounding that girl would be his undoing. "She had some personal business to deal with, so I went with her to help."

"If she wanted help, why didn't she ask me?" His questions were sharp, fast, nipping at the heels of Shirou's deliberately clear and nuanced replies. Being the ice to this inferno was only feeding the flame, it would seem.

"You weren't equipped for the task at hand," Shirou replied honestly. Svin, while a reasonably capable bodyguard, didn't have the sheath of Excalibur.

"And you were because you're so damned special, is that it?"

"I wouldn't put it that way-"

"She's been different since she came back," Svin interrupted. "Her scent has changed," he murmured, eyes defocusing and staring through him instead. "She's losing her fluff." The anger in his tone had changed into what Shirou could only describe as disappointment.

The conversation was dissolving into obscurity. He had no idea what fluff Svin referred to and in all honestly he didn't care. "If that's all this is about then I don't have anything else to say. If you'll excuse me, I'm pretty busy right now." Shirou turned, felt something grip at his wrist and reacted entirely on instinct.

The gripped arm, his left, reared upwards and his right came in from below to strike at the offending hand. Landing square, Svin's grip was disrupted, allowing Shirou to take a step backwards out of arm's reach. "If either of us fight in the halls we'll both be removed from the Tower," Shirou reminded sternly, watching as Svin's mind worked to absorb the thought and weigh the consequences. It was fortunate that he wasn't too far into his anger and could acknowledge the warning.

"This isn't over," Svin menaced before storming off the way he came.

Despite sounding like a broken record, Shirou noted the obvious statement and resumed his own path back to his room. This problem wasn't going away, but he had no idea how to solve it. Svin was disillusioned with their relationship and the only way to align the man with reality would be to drop Gray as a friend or finally convince him that nothing was going on between them.

A rock and a hard place.

More than halfway back to the room, Shirou recalled that it would take the girls a couple of hours to conduct their work. He'd only been away for a little more than a half hour, so he decided to occupy some of his time by walking to the café and ordering a black tea. Sitting and enjoying the drink ate up another half hour. Despite being nowhere near the expected time, Shirou chose to return and see if they had finished early. There was a lot that needed to be discussed, after all.

Knocking on the door, he was assured by the girls within that he wasn't about to walk into something he didn't want to see. Given the go-ahead, he entered into the aftermath of what he could only imagine to be an autopsy. Within the center of the room, a bloodied sheet spared his eyes and concealed whatever lay beneath. Deeper inside, Rin and Illya were washing their hands in a sink with a number of neatly stacked opaque jars on the table behind them. He didn't dare trace them to discern their contents; the handwritten labels told him more than he needed to know.

"That was fast," Rin commented offhandedly. He hadn't noticed immediately, but Rin was as white as Illya's hair.

"I was about to say the same," he admitted, silently concerned for the girl. He wondered if she had fainted or if she was just feeling nauseous. He knew she was more squeamish than himself but hadn't realized just how sensitive she was.

"It was weird, once we started, it was like I'd done it before." Unlike Rin, her apparent autopsy assistant, Illya seemed entirely unphased.

"Wish I could relate," Rin hollowly replied with a shudder. "I thought I prepared myself enough but it's different when it's not in a book."

"The smell?" Shirou asked.

"The smell," Illya confirmed, offering the other girl a look with a tilted head. "Maybe suggest those books include a scratch and sniff so readers know what they're getting into."

Groaning, she finished washing her hands and began drying them with a soft blue towel. "How are you taking this so well?"

Illya shrugged. "Being comfortable with corpses must run in the family."

"Lectra revealed her magic," Shirou blurted out, immediately catching the other two's attention. Both girls blinked a few times, likely running the words over again in their head in disbelief. Taking a sharp inhale, Shirou nodded for emphasis. "El-Melloi set up a celebration, but most of the guests were more interested in him."

Rin blinked a couple more times, set her face stern and finished drying her hands. "He doesn't waste any time, does he?"

Finishing her own wash up, Illya looked around herself for a towel, likely the blue one then in use. Unable to find it and unaware of Rin taking it, she flicked her hands to get rid of most of the water and then made off in search of another towel. "So what's the plan?"

Confused, Shirou asked what she meant while walking further into the room. With little more than a controlled flicker of mana, his suit returned to its state as a watch on his wrist. "Your sister had some wild idea about joining you-know-who when life at the Tower got too hectic, but it hasn't even been a full month yet." Shirou sought out a place to take a seat but was immediately reminded that the dining table had been repurposed for the autopsy.

Standing seemed like the best option.

He didn't know who he was supposed to know, at least not immediately. It took him a moment to put the pieces together and understand she was talking about Marisbury Animusphere. "How would that help?"

Rin sighed lengthily and settled into a chair that had been moved closer to the sink. Seated and resting, colour was returning to her face. "Personally, I'd like to stay for a few years and get a decent education in my magecraft. Problem is, if you two get caught up in Lord El-Melloi's drama and go too far, I won't have much of a chance."

Illya approached from behind, wiping her hands. With a thoughtful hum and deliberate motions, she peered atop Rin's head. "I didn't realize how many gray hairs you had."

Grumbling, the Tohsaka did her best to ignore the taunt. "I can't help it when I have to deal with two children that like getting into as much trouble as humanly possible." A wide smile that failed to reach her eyes spread across her face.

"We can fix this," Illya assured.

"What is there to even fix?" Rin asked with exasperation.

"These gray hairs," Illya resumed. "A little hair dye would go a long way." Slowly, like a scene from a horror film, Rin turned her head to side-eye Illya. Understanding the warning, his sister grew serious. "We can stop El-Melloi from using us like pawns on a board," Illya certified.

"I was more worried about Lectra," Shirou admitted.

Illya scrunched up her face, "I don't know if you're allowed to have a crush when you already have a girlfriend, Shirou."

"It's not like that!" he quickly chipped back. "Lectra is a good friend and she's had to learn a lot these past few years." His defence wasn't all that great, considering she was one of the few magi he knew capable of fighting him head-on.

"She's older than all of us," Rin noted. "I'm certain she can make her own decisions in life and handle herself accordingly." Shirou wanted to interject, but was cut off as he uttered the first syllable. "So if this is the path she wants to take, that's the end of it. We can help if she asks for it but otherwise we might as well keep our noses out of it."

The room fell silent for a moment under the authority of Rin Tohsaka. "What happens when we don't have a choice anymore? When we're forced into whatever is brewing in that classroom?"

With an audible, full cycle of breath, Rin let down her hair, tucked most of it behind her shoulders and let her hands audibly land on her legs with a shrug. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We can decide whether we want to help, leave, or something in between for all cases."

Shirou found the conclusion agreeable, at least for the time being. Illya clapped her hands together softly and looked between the two. "Right, well now that that's settled, how are we going to deal with the old me?" She cast a glance toward the stained sheet plopped in the middle of the room.

After examining the article for a moment, both girls simultaneously looked toward Shirou. Acknowledging the silent message with an annoyed grumble, Shirou moved to stand. He was beginning to wonder if Rin knew the meaning of the word bodyguard or if she had confused it with slave.

… … …

… … …

Illya marked another X on the calendar in her notebook, spun the marker around in her fingers once then bit the end softly. A little under three weeks had passed and the new body hadn't shown any symptoms or side effects. Rin had been conducting daily tests to ensure there weren't any changes in her condition. Allegedly, they'd shift to weekly after the first month and Illya couldn't wait for that. She could only handle being poked, prodded and investigated like a piece of art for so long and her patience was finite.

Besides that, the past little while had been quiet. She imagined that was soon to change with the upcoming Tournament. She'd heard snippets of details from Shirou, but hadn't received much of a full picture. From what she understood, it was little more than a barbaric gladiator fight using magecraft. From a logistical standpoint, it made little sense to her. How could anyone find any entertainment in the premise? Any magus who participated opened up their magecraft for all to witness, meaning the magi who participated, if any, would likely use only well-known magecraft. There might have been some entertainment value in seeing who was more skilled with so little at their disposal, but that was sure to grow old.

She'd asked Rin how a place like the Clock Tower, as allegedly noble and honourable as it was, could allow and even condone such an event. Her explanation on the matter was that it wasn't endorsed nor organized by the Tower at all. In fact, they preferred to steer clear but offered the use of their facilities to organizers. The theory was that offering a controlled environment for the younger generation of magi interested in such an event was better than having any potential back-yard brawls that risked injury or death.

Shirou had informed her afterwards that the nobility of the Tower often bet on the victor in the background to make a side profit and that there had, in fact, been a death in the Tournament when he competed. That was enough to inform Illya that the Tower's claims had no true weight.

The few weeks that passed weren't much of a reprieve from how hectic things had been growing, but she was thankful for any time in the end. If Rin and her own theories were even half true, El-Melloi would make a big move and a lot of headache was soon to come.

Looking up and closing her notebook, she watched as Shirou fiddled with a number of small tools and pieces. Bazett leaned over him, resting on his shoulder as he worked. Earlier, Shirou had commented that he needed to get some work done on his side project and Illya elected to tag along. Elusive as always, her sibling seemed to stand on the edge of some mysterious breakthrough comparable to the unearthing of his reality marble. Of course she didn't believe him, but she would still be supportive nonetheless.

Stepping closer, Illya peered over her brother's shoulder as well, watching as he carefully used his small, precise tools to cram something into the bottom and top of a brass casing. With a firm push, he finished forming a bullet and held it up close for inspection.

A shiny brass case and a matte white tip. She had no clue what he was inspecting, nor did she understand the purpose. She knew bullets were fired out of guns, but couldn't begin to describe anything beyond that. "Now to hope it doesn't blow up in my face," Shirou murmured, twisting the cartridge between his fingers. Carefully, he placed it within an empty plastic rack designed to neatly order the rounds.

"I thought you knew what you were doing," Bazett commented dryly with a tone of barely concealed disinterest.

"It's the first time I've ever done this," he excused, agitated.

"Why don't you test it out then? You know, before you spend even more time on something that doesn't even work."

Shirou looked over his shoulder up to Bazett with a furrowed brow, remained silent, then recollected his completed bullet with an indignant sigh. "Fine, though it'd be a waste if this doesn't work as it should," he sighed, laying a hand on his side as he stood upright.

A smirk crossed Bazett's face. She was excited, obviously. Illya was too, though she was keeping her curiosity more hidden than the Irish woman. "So how's it work?"

Pinching the round between thumb and index, Shirou didn't explain. Instead, he looked at the woman and smiled weakly. "The more people who understand the magecraft, the weaker it gets, right?"

It wasn't the answer she was looking for and a groan was his response. Unrelenting, Shirou projected a sword-shaped gemstone in his hand and offered it to Illya, asking, "Could you fill this with mana for me?" Doing as asked, she idly wondered what plan he was crafting but elected to wait and see rather than ask a question that would be solved in time. Receiving thanks for her effort, she wondered why he hadn't done it himself. The amount to fill that gem had been truly pitiful, even by Shirou's poor circuit standards. Her explanation was torn between this experiment requiring all the mana he could offer and his desire to avoid introducing potential error due to being less than full on mana. "Could you also set up a bounded field to block out sound?"

Performing another favour for him, she let him know once she had finished. While she had been busy, he projected a number of swords to create both a thin pedestal and a backstop behind it. Atop the pedestal, was a picture frame of an unfamiliar couple being repurposed as a holder for the sword-gem.

With everything seemingly prepared, Shirou projected a firearm of some variety, one Illya recognized as her father's. Methodically, Shirou loaded the weapon and looked around at his audience of two. "Plug your ears so you don't go deaf," he suggested.

Closing the weapon, the two girls covered their ears while he extended one arm to aim at the crystal. Illya watched carefully, interested in how such a small thing could possibly compare to his reality marble.

The blast from the weapon surprised her. It was painfully loud, even while covering her ears, and the sharp impact from the brief fireball out the end of the barrel surprised her with its palpable force. It was far too fast to see, but his aim had been true. The gemstone no longer remained. Instead, something else had grown on the pedestal.

"Well that's something else," Bazett marvelled.

Illya didn't think it was as cool or impressive as Unlimited Blade Works, but it was definitely something.

… … …

"Do you really think it's a good idea?"

Watching his eyes, he waited to respond long enough to finish the page he was reading. "You managed well enough years ago with little understanding of your own technique," the man noted offhandedly, turning a page in his book without so much as a glance in her direction.

Lectra frowned. "I don't see how this is supposed to help."

With a gentle sign, Lord El-Melloi closed his book, set it aside, and stared at her directly. The Book of Five Rings revealed its title to her without his hand to block it. "It's quite clear to me that you learn best while actively engaged in combat. Many of your discoveries have come forth in an attempt to defeat a force greater than yourself."

Lectra blinked a few times. "So, basically, I need to be in danger to learn?"

The Lord furrowed his brow momentarily, irked in one way or another by her simplification. "In a sense, but not quite. You're a very competitive girl."

"Isn't everyone?" she shrugged.

Simply staring at her for a moment, he eventually stood while tucking loose hair behind his ears. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

Lectra allowed her expression to falter. "You're not old enough to say that. You're what, twenty-seven?"

Clearing his throat, he remained stoic. "Anyway, your competitive nature has driven you to great accomplishments." Gracefully, he glided across the room to investigate something upon a bookshelf, keeping his back toward her. "You're still determined to win in a spar against Shirou, aren't you?"

"Of course, it's not like I want to hurt him or anything, but it'd be cool to win, you know? I mean, the guy went up against servants and won, not just once or twice either."

"A self-made goal then," he answered an unasked question. "There's nothing wrong with such a thing, but you must realize how competing in the Tournament again would be beneficial."

Lectra hissed through an inhale. "I'm not so sure. If the competition is anything like it was last time, they won't have much of a chance."

"And if Shirou joined again?"

Her reaction was blatant, involuntary and reactionary. It was quite a what-if, even if the chance was practically zero. Shifting her attention away in a poor effort at disguising her thoughts, it was clear the Lord wasn't falling for it. "He'd never agree to it, but I can't deny it'd be pretty cool."

He chuckled once. It was the type of laugh someone cocky made in chess after placing their opponent into check. Why was it that she felt as if she was the opponent in this game? "I don't believe he has a choice."

… … …

"Letter for you, mis-ter Emiya." Drawing the syllables of the honorific, Octavia flourished a simple envelope at arm's length for him to take. Offering a confused look, he took the envelope and asked who it was from. "The Clock Tower," she stated matter-of-factly. Noting his look, she sighed in exasperation. "I know you're an unconventional applicant, but the Tower surprises everyone now and then."

The gears churned in Shirou's mind, swirling around the word applicant until he came to a singular conclusion. Tearing open the envelope, he withdrew the contents, preemptively expecting their details. Annoyed with his findings, he directed his frustrations to Octavia. "I didn't apply for the Magus Tournament," he stated defiantly.

Blinking a few times, Octavia bent down to open a filing cabinet where she withdrew a stapled bundle of papers Shirou recognized as application forms. Tracing the documents, he confirmed their status as a forgery.

"It's just a general acceptance letter," Octavia assuaged. "Due to the recommendation and your reputation, your first round will be the consolation match as requested."

Shirou set his jaw. He'd risked exposing himself back then for the learning experience. Going through the Tournament a second time offered him no benefit. He could gather everything he might need by spectating. "I don't think you understand, I didn't fill out an application, I've never been interested in the Tournament."

Octavia appeared confused, then furrowed her brow. "That can't be right," she began.

"I've been out of the Tower for the past few hours," Shirou added. "So who submitted it on my behalf?"

"Lord El-Melloi the Second," Illya guessed and Octavia confirmed.

"I'd like to withdraw the application."

Octavia pursed her lips and began looking through her files. "Believe it or not, an application has never been rescinded before, I'll have to look into getting that pulled for you."

The Tournament began tomorrow but that still left him a few days before he was at risk of competing. "Is it normal for people to apply to the Tournament through someone else?" he asked, failing to see how such a process would even be allowed.

"Actually, yes," she countered, drawing out papers from a cabinet. "Some magi are too busy to go through all the effort themselves, so they send their apprentice on their behalf." Peeking up from her search, her left eyebrow quirked upwards. "In hindsight, that wouldn't be an issue for you."

Brow still furrowed in frustration, Shirou set his jaw. "I'll come by tomorrow morning for an update." Ignoring her response, he cast a look over his shoulder toward Illya and motioned with his head for her to follow while he began walking.

Thoughts clouded with questions and annoyance, Shirou stormed through the halls of the Tower asking himself how he could have been so foolish. Kiritsugu had told him time and time again that a magus was never to be trusted, yet he had done precisely that. How could he have expected Lord El-Melloi not to take advantage of him if it advanced himself?

The question was, what benefit did such a brazen move give? Was it merely a matter of having a greater number of his students in the top three competitors or was he trying to draw out something more sinister?

Alternatively still, was this some misguided attempt at pressuring his authority? Showing that his orders were to be followed or that he could pull strings if he had the mind to?

It was a difficult read though Waver was notorious for being a puzzle, at least from what Shirou had witnessed thus far. The walk to the clubroom ended faster than he expected but before he could get within arm's reach, Illya shuffled past him and gripped his forearm to halt his march.

"Shirou, you need to be careful," she whispered. "You don't want to get on the bad side of a Lord, especially him. He knows a lot of things that can hurt us." Her eyes were pleading, yet her voice was level and stern. She was conflicted, with part of herself trying to keep their group safe and another just as furious as he was.

"He's not the only scary person to make an enemy of. Fighting in this Tournament puts all of us at risk." Gently moving past her, he opened the clubroom door and was immediately struck in the chest with something light that his hands reflexively caught. Looking up to find the thrower, he spotted Lord El-Melloi alone, seated in one of the chairs.

Looking down to whatever had been thrown, Shirou found a clipped-together bundle of papers, with the first page clearly displaying "Conclusive Report" at the top above a smaller "Re: Shirou Emiya."

Not bothering to read beyond that, Shirou offered a knowingly angered glare. "That's how it is?"

"If you're insinuating that I intend to blackmail you, then no, it is not," he replied coolly. "You hold the master copy of my unreleased report. Consider it something of a gesture in good faith alongside my request that you permit yourself to enter the Magus Tournament."

"Pretty well rehearsed," Illya murmured behind his back.

Shirou looked from the man back to the report, then handed it off behind himself to Illya. He wasn't accepting anything until he was certain it was the right move, but he would still take advantage when an opportunity presented itself. It was unlikely for that copy to be the sole one in existence, but the fewer the number the better.

"You've planned pretty far ahead," Shirou remarked.

"Far enough to know you're still likely to decline despite whatever I may offer you."

His predictions were accurate thus far. Still, the cool confidence of the man in his words irritated Shirou for reasons he couldn't quite describe. "In what reality would following through with this be a good idea? Fighting in the Tournament would only draw suspicion, especially considering my name and the fact I'll be taking on the finalists."

"I'm aware," the man noted.

Stumped, Shirou struggled to think of his next words. He wasn't doing much convincing, which left him curious as to why. What did the Lord know that Shirou himself was obviously missing?

As if sensing his own mental turmoil, Waver let slip his presumed ace. "Declining, on the other hand, would disrupt your public image and upset Lectra."

Scrunching up his face in annoyed confusion, Shirou subtly shook his head in disbelief. "What does Lectra have to do with the Tournament?"

"She intends to compete, obviously," he stated bluntly. In retrospect, it made sense. Not only would it provide her with more combat experience, it set her up as El-Melloi's star student. He couldn't see her holding a grudge, assuming his absence in the Tournament even upset her in the first place. As for himself, while his public image served its purpose where it needed to, getting it to align more with reality wasn't the worst problem.

"If that's all you've got," Shirou flared his hands outwards, shrugged both shoulders and shook his head. "Then this conversation is over."

Hardly even beginning the motion to turn around, the Lord continued. "Why you remain so protective of your past continues to elude me. Your history is rather well documented on account of your notoriety, after all. Everything just prior to the beginning of the Holy Grail War is common knowledge at this point yet still you protect a meaningless segment of your life." The man paused, likely expecting an outburst or counter argument that didn't arise. "You wouldn't be the first magus to fake their own death and return, you won't be the last."

He hadn't entered expecting to hear something he'd need to think upon, but the Lord had managed to point out his flawed point of view. To be honest, he wasn't particularly clear on why he was so secretive of his past. There was the obvious potential punishment for detonating an explosive in the middle of Tower grounds, but nobody had been injured, at least not physically. He'd planned specifically to avoid such an event.

Drawing away from his thoughts back to reality, Shirou turned halfway to leave, hesitated, then glanced toward Lord El-Melloi. "I'll think about it."

… … …

… … …

Taking a rest from his exercises, Shirou laid on his back upon the ash-caked ground. Turning his head, he looked toward Rin, gathered up enough breath and asked, "So what do you think?"

Chewing thoughtfully on a sandwich he had made, her features set in contemplation and one hand moved to cover her mouth until she could swallow. "I can see his point," she noted first and foremost. "Everything you'd wanted to keep a secret as Blade is out in the open. What else is there to hide that can't get dug up?"

"Besides this," Illya chimed in, setting down a broom with a huff before gesturing to the arid, sunbleached land around them. She'd done most of the work clearing out a small area for them to sit within. While the ashes were soft to the touch and fine to sit within, they weren't exactly the best condiment for food, nor were they all that great to lie down in.

Rin nearly rolled her eyes. "Obviously, but revealing Unlimited Blade Works isn't ever going to be an option."

"I told him I'd let him know by this afternoon," Shirou added when he had enough oxygen. "Need to make a decision now."

Setting her brow, Rin took another bite, silently letting them know she needed time to think.

"It's fishy," Illya noted, sitting beside Rin. "We know he's doing this for a reason but is it really as simple and basic as flexing the potential of his students?"

Shirou had neither the breath nor oxygen to respond, being in the middle of recovering both. It wasn't until Rin finished chewing again that conversation resumed. "He may be trying to admit Shirou as a prodigy student."

Illya produced a single dry "hah" with a perfectly blank expression. "If by prodigy you mean sealing designate, then sure."

"So long as the Tower isn't made aware of the fact he can project noble phantasms or conjure a reality marble he'll be fine," Rin assured. "Flat is a prodigy, yet he's never been designated."

Illya hummed in uncertainty while Shirou sat upright, dripping sweat onto the hot ground below and wetting the lingering ashes into a paste-like slurry. "If you're wrong?"

"We run," Shirou huffed automatically.

Rin shrugged passively. "Your father was familiar with hiding from the Tower, I imagine he taught you some tricks."

"This seems like a pretty drastic change for you, Shirou," Illya noted. "You're usually stubborn to change."

Lifting himself off the ground and performing some basic stretches, he prepared to resume his exercise. "For some things," he admitted. "Sometimes it just takes a convincing argument."

"Or for someone to point out your stupidity," Rin added.

He couldn't deny it. As careful as he tried to plan, he made mistakes on occasion. Some of which were critical errors. Thoughts flickering back in time, he cast a glance toward Illya while tightness gripped his chest.

"You might face some charges regarding your spectacle, but I don't see it being anything a healthy donation toward the Tower can't fix. We can pay for that by selling some of the spare parts." Rin looked toward Illya for confirmation and the girl replied with an expression and small gesture that clearly expressed her lack of care on the matter.

Projecting a modified form of Riesenarm that was equally balanced on either end, Shirou braced the weapon-turned-dumbbell on his shoulders and prepared to do some squats, modifying the reinforcement of his own body to lift with the desired amount of strain. With such a heavy weight, it wasn't far at all from full reinforcement.

"So we'll approach the Tower after you're done and pitch our case," Illya summarized, gathering a positive response from both Rin and Shirou.

Resuming his exercise, the boy absently wondered what the Tower considered a sizable donation. Would it be on the order of tens or hundreds of thousands? Hoping for the former, he almost expected the latter.

Another hour passed where Shirou completed his exercise for the day, allowed his realty marble to fall apart, showered off the sweat and returned to the Clock Tower from his home within the city with the girls.

Setting it as their first order of business, the trio approached Octavia and questioned the receptionist over which steps one needed to take to claim responsibility over a former identity. Questioned numerous times, Shirou eventually revealed that he had used the former identity of Blade. Octavia was far less surprised than he expected and she quickly drew forth papers for him to file.

According to her, it wasn't rare for magi to claim past lives, which aligned with Lord El-Melloi's words. Expectedly, she would need to confirm with the presiding Lords to ensure no retroactive punishment was required. It was then that Rin expressed that she would be capable of offering payment as recompense.

Octavia admitted that she had no idea what sort of fee or punishment would come about, but assured that something would definitely come around considering the circumstances regarding Blade's exit.

While speaking with her, Shirou cancelled his request to be withdrawn from the Tournament. Without fear of being tied to Blade any longer, he saw no reason to avoid the event. At worst, he lost against Lectra and learned a little more about her strategies and capabilities. It had been a few weeks since their last sparring match and all of that time had been devoted to personal, private tutelage under Waver.

With nothing more to do than wait, Shirou departed and the group returned to their rooms. Alone, Shirou considered the near future and the present.

Wrapping his head around the fact Lectra was even permitted into the Tournament was still a point of contention. Was it some way of testing the strength of the First Magic? Perhaps it was a way to gauge its authenticity. Alternatively still and simplest of all, maybe everyone was interested in finding out if magic could still be bested with simple magecraft.

If Lectra brought anything comparable to what she used against him, her opponents would fall like wheat to a scythe. It wasn't even a question of if she would reach the finals, but a simple inevitability. On the same thought, how was he supposed to deal with her? Under the gaze of so many eyes in such a restrictive arena, he couldn't possibly use a Noble Phantasm. Even some of his more destructive tactics were off the table. Puncturing a sword-sized hole in the entire Tower and every building beyond it wasn't a viable option.

He was painfully reminded again how broad but limited his combat repertoire was. He had a blade for every occasion, sure, but the variety was always limited by the circumstances he found himself in. While it wasn't a solution to his immediate problem, he set himself toward learning runecraft to help bolster his tactics. Doing so would aid his projections regardless, as they could be applied to weapons and equipment as needed while they were traced. Asking Bazett seemed like the route to go, though he could study the runes he already knew of which were ingrained within the suit made for him by her.

It was truly oxymoronic; being the most adaptable one-trick pony. In the end, all of his thinking was for naught and he was no closer to a breakthrough than he had been once he started.

Thankfully, a knock upon his door provoked him from his conundrum. Rising from his seat, he approached the door, donned his suit through the watch, and opened the door. On the other side stood an average-looking woman, startled by the mere sight of him. Olive skin, brown hair in a ponytail and matching chestnut eyes. A white button-up shirt with a loosened pale-orange tie above a well-matched A-line skirt.

Before he could ask what she was doing, she thrust forward a wax-sealed letter, shaking at the end of her arm's extension. Sighing in exasperation provoked a flinch, but Shirou gently took hold of the stationery. "What's with all the letters? Can't you all move on to text or phone call at this point?"

Based on the girl's hesitant stammering, Shirou clued into the fact that she was likely unaware of the letter's contents or who the sender even was. Her fear over his mere presence told him she'd likely been paid to play the part of courier.

"You don't need to answer that," he pacified, offering a brief thanks before closing the door. Examining the outside of the letter, he noted the distinct wax stamp: A lion with tongue outstretched wearing a crown, holding onto — and standing upon — a sword.

The boy inhaled and exhaled deeply. If there was one thing he knew, it was that heraldry was never a good sign.

---

Despite being dialogue heavy and designed around tying up loose ends, there's a lot going on in this chapter regarding plot points. I've been assured by Talndir that it moves at a good pace and isn't too overloading, so I hope both of our assessments are correct. As the writer, believe me when I say things get really confusing really quickly. Especially when you don't open a chapter for months and expect to remember everything you had been working on.

A true wonder how Shirou will manage in this Truncated Tournament against a wielder of magic when he can't use his strongest abilities. At least he'll get a taste of what's to come against Miss Blue.

As always, please favourite, follow, leave a review if you're so inclined and thank Talndir for continuing to be my beloved beta.