Howdy Folks!
I know I didn't post this chapter at my usual midnight-on-the-dot (for my timezone anyway) just to get higher peak view counts and make myself feel cooler but I figured that's far from necessary when I have six months between chapters.
Correct me if I'm wrong but I think this chapter was released a little earlier than the last one! There's definitely a lot of research I need to do for the coming chapters though, so don't hold your breath in the hopes that they'll come any faster than this, sorry! Those of you devout followers, I hope you stick with me and Unbalanced Scales until I finally finish it!
The world was hell bent on playing him as the greatest fool ever to live. If he hadn't been convinced of the fact before, it was set in stone at that moment. He couldn't even find a modicum of satisfaction in answering the mystery that was: "How had Rin been kidnapped?"
Standing within the threshold of the doorway, the barely clothed assassin glared down at him with an expression he was all too familiar with: determined respect. He'd seen it on Lectra's face before their fight in the Tournament and it spoke of difficulties to come. If he tried to make a move, Hali would be there to take him on and she wouldn't give him the same opportunity she had before.
Would he be capable of defeating her a second time now that she was wise to his tricks? What new avenue could he use if the worst came to pass? Projectile speed almost meant nothing to someone who could alter distance.
"So much for not killing every problem I meet," he thought, directing the words through his mind to try and reach Kiera, wherever she lay. "If she'd died, Rin wouldn't have been kidnapped and this entire scenario might have played out differently."
Illya gripped at his hand, something he had unknowingly clenched into a tight fist. Relaxing a small amount and returning from cursing at his consciousness, he surveyed his surroundings with a trace. Beyond Hali herself, there were a total of six people surrounding them. Two flanked their rear and four lay overhead watching down. Of the six, two were operating firearms. Unfamiliar with the make or model, the fact they were scoped bolt action rifles spoke volumes. The level of tactical awareness was admirable. The four unburdened by a firearm would likely use magecraft in some capacity if the two snipers were unable to complete their task flawlessly. That level of forethought made Shirou wonder if the two were even magi at all. Having little or no aptitude for magecraft would make them harder to detect than a traditional magus after all. That alone allowed him to determine that the ambush wasn't custom tailored to his abilities and that it was a general purpose anti-magus trap. That, or they weren't aware of his capabilities.
A dozen seconds of uninterrupted silence droned on. Eventually, Hali's shoulders fell slightly. "I know you put the pieces together, but I'm shocked you didn't even try to attack."
"So you can kill us without punishment?" Shirou remarked, looking upwards to eye the unseen sniper above directly. "We'd already be dead if you wanted us to be."
Hali smiled, though the expression began and ended at her lips. "More or less. You can't hate a girl for trying though." Partially turning and motioning with one arm, Hali gestured into the building. "I've been directed to escort you to the conference room, assuming you'll follow along."
An ultimatum: Indulge the request or fight their way through. If he took to fighting, he'd begin at an extreme disadvantage. Not only did the snipers pose a huge problem, the capabilities of the surrounding magi were unknown. If one of them used magecraft designed to hold someone in place or slow them down, he'd be finished before he began. More to just that, he had Illya to worry about. A scenario like this, where he might have been able to succeed alone but not while protecting Illya, was exactly why he'd hesitated to bring her along.
No, making a move would do nothing but spell an early death. There would be better opportunities later when he could lash out and retake Rin if required. Whether by coincidence or her own conclusion, Illya gripped his hand and strode forward toward the entrance, tugging him along.
The interior of the manor was equally as lavish if not greater than the exterior. Mirror-polished gold-vein marble, a high coffered ceiling completed with intricate mouldings and more art than some museums, Shirou had to admit his surprise at the near-modern style atypical to a magus family. Immediately to the left of the entrance was a curving staircase up to the second floor. Family portraits tracking the family's generational history rose along with the steps. Intriguing was the fact that each portrait featured two children. At the top of the stairs, the second floor featured an overlooking hallway that disappeared to the left and right. On the ground floor were two hallways, one blocked with a set of double doors and the other with an open arched passage. Hali stood at the beginning of the non-doored hallway awaiting their approach.
Suspicious, Shirou traced the house in its entirety and discovered twenty seven other occupants throughout the interior on the floors above ground. None of them lay in the direction of Hali, but more interesting were the dungeon-like lower levels. Two levels deep with a labyrinth of tunnels and over a hundred cells spread across three separate atriums.
The solid stone construction below made tallying the number of people impossible with his improvised pressure-sensing method. He'd need to devote more time and brain power to gather a number, two things he didn't have.
Planting his feet and compelling Illya to stop, he watched as Hali grew tense. "There's nobody that way, she's leading us to a trap."
Illya shifted behind him while Hali merely sighed and rolled her eyes. Casting his head over his shoulder, Shirou locked eyes with the tattooed butler who originally greeted him. Tracing him head to toe, he discovered a pistol hidden within the inside of his waistcoat. He'd needed his full attention to deal with Hali in their first engagement, he couldn't spare any to his flank. Illya would be more than capable of handling him, he hoped. She'd need to be, or else they might both die. "The lady of the house found herself occupied shortly before you arrived. You were supposed to meet with her in the great study, which is where I'm bringing you." Refacing the woman, he found her holding both hands aloft in surrender. "Think logically for a minute. What purpose would killing you inside have? We could have done it outside easier without any mess."
Absorbing her words for a moment, he couldn't argue. Easing a touch but keeping his paranoia at an acceptable level, he traced the path they would take to ensure it was free of any potential traps. "Fine, carry on," he excused.
Without further delay or questions, Hali — alongside the man behind them — escorted the pair through the hallway to a set of opened wooden doors before gesturing inside. Sparing a skeptical glare before tracing the room in its entirety as a precaution, he entered, keeping himself between Illya and Hali as best he could. Inside, the woman softly closed the door while claiming: "Annalliina will be with you as soon as she can. Help yourself to an aperitif or canapés if you wish."
Following a soft click, Shirou examined the room in more detail. Calling it a great study was no exaggeration. Large enough to comfortably host forty people on one floor, the far wall contained a matching set of doors. The entire two-level room was windowless, kept at a light level he would consider barely above unnavigable by candlelight and the smouldering embers of a wooden fireplace. The contouring smooth stone of the fireplace declared it as the centrepiece before no less than six oversized, overstuffed tufted leather chairs. Across every square inch of wall from floor to ceiling were books occasionally interspersed by empty recesses or marble busts softly illuminated by white light from above. Among them, Shirou recognized the painfully familiar face of Luvia.
Overhead, a mezzanine lined the perimeter of the room, complete with three individual nooks for reading. Within the center, hanging overhead, was an elaborate art piece composed of coloured gemstones that gracefully slid along near invisible monofilament to create a dynamic display. A trace revealed each gemstone to be filled with mana, likely to power the locomotion. An amount insufficient to create an explosion but enough to sustain the display for several years.
Back on the ground floor, he noted a humongous wooden table heavily laden with tomes and books encircled with twenty cushioned chairs had one section of its surface cleared to make way for two silver trays. One such tray contained glasses, ice and several decanters filled with unknown alcohol. Comparing their chemical makeup to his knowledge of alcohols, he could identify champagne, vermouth, gin and three separate alcohols flavoured with anise and licorice. The other tray was more familiar to him — canapés crafted with a cavalcade of costly components from manuka honey, capers, caviar, salmon, olives, foie gras and an entire dairy showcase worth of various cheeses.
Extravagance with a capital E, there hadn't been a single expense spared. It was as if the family was obsessed with spending money purely for the sake of spending it.
Tracing the food revealed no poison he was familiar with, a list that was considerably long thanks to Kiritsugu. He could mark off elaborate poisoning schemes from the list.
The longer he remained passive, the more confusing the circumstances grew. He'd expected and accurately assessed an ambush would take place, but he hadn't expected it to be a security measure against his potential aggression. Now they were being fed and treated like important guests. The themes did not align, were they enemies or welcomed guests? Ultimately the question was irrelevant when he already planned on tearing the building apart room by room if Annalliina didn't arrive and verify Rin's safety in short order.
Like himself, Illya took to surveying the room, although in a more mundane manner. Immediately attracted to the food on display, she looked toward him as if silently asking permission. Being precautious, he asked her to approach and gave her a projection of Avalon. While it wouldn't save her life in the event of a mortal physical injury, it just might if the food was laced with a poison he wasn't familiar with. "You're as safe as I can make you, go ahead."
Carefully filling her hand with an assortment from the tray, she began browsing the bookshelves wordlessly while eating. Occupying herself, Shirou decided to do the same. Sitting down in one of the chairs, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Preparing himself, he traced the lower levels, extending his connection to scan living creatures. Immediately as he did, a sharp stabbing pain bloomed in the left side of his skull but he persevered through the pain.
He captured a snapshot of the forms and figures of nearly one hundred people and their locations. Based on their location, body positioning and vital signs, he could differentiate between prisoner and guard easily. The number of mercenaries nearly tripled to seventy one, leaving a total of thirty four prisoners. Of the latter group, he categorized smaller, prying back the layers to find those unharmed, those without bruises or lacerations. He could–
"Shirou!"
Screamed into his ear, his eyes snapped open and body sprung to attention.
Only, he wasn't sitting in a chair any longer, he was on his back with Illya leaned over his face. Bemused and uncertain, he rapidly scanned the room for danger but found none. "What happened?"
She looked at him with unhidden shock and worry. "That's my question. You sat down and next thing I know you started convulsing and bleeding from your nose."
At the mention, he noticed the wet sensation on his lip and tapped at his philtrum to confirm the presence of blood. Tracing his own body he learned two things. Firstly, he'd ruptured an artery in his brain and incited a stroke which Avalon was struggling to remedy. The scar tissue present let him conclude that Illya had tried healing him, undoubtedly preventing the worst effects. Secondly, even a simple localized trace nearly brought him to the point of unconsciousness as pain overwhelmed all senses.
He'd pushed himself too far and faced the consequences. Scanning with his eyes to locate something to wipe his face with, Illya extended a hand to offer a napkin. Taking, thanking for, wiping with and stowing away the napkin, he lifted himself back into the chair and tested the functionality of his ligaments.
His right arm was uncharacteristically numb and felt oddly disconnected from his own body but still operated correctly. Touching the fingers on the same side together, he found his sense of touch totally absent.
Apologizing for causing her a fright, he explained himself and assured her that he wouldn't make the same mistake. "Give me a little bit and I'll try again on a smaller scale."
"So you can pass out just in time for Annalliina to arrive? We'll find her, you just need to be a little more patient." Sighing in exasperation, Illya returned to the bookshelf — after taking another handful of canapés — and reached up to her head to pluck strands of hair.
Curious, he watched as the hairs flashed a bright blue and curled tightly into themselves before she lay them atop books. She repeated the process several times every dozen feet while she browsed and snacked.
"The library is nice and all but how can you know where anything is if the spines don't have a title or author?" The question was followed by the loud crunch of hard bread.
"Find anything on geass?"
"Nothing I haven't already read."
A short hum. Slowly, he stood upright and began exploring the bookshelves on his own. "See if you can find anything about the Edelfelt ancestry, a biography or research notes would work too."
"Based on the organization, that'd be on the upper floor. Is it important?"
"Could be," he shrugged. "We might be able to learn something we can exploit."
"Don't hold your breath," Illya murmured, laying another strand of hair. "This isn't a workshop, they wouldn't keep any of their secrets here."
"Anything helps," he surmised.
Examining the food laid upon the table, he found his stomach too upset to even consider eating. Even looking at the tray was enough to make him nauseous. He didn't care about any fancy snacks, he just wanted Rin back.
The door at the far end of the room almost exploded open with a loud, echoing bang. The rush of air was enough to extinguish some of the candles closest to the door, plunging a third of the room into darkness.
Only two things remained visible amidst the shadowed portion of the study: piercing amber eyes set in a vengeful scowl.
… … …
… … …
Gagged, blindfolded and shackled to the ceiling by her wrists, she remained deathly still, controlling her breathing and straining her ears to hear beyond the bars of her cell. When no sound arrived, she hesitated, questioned whether her count had been off, then was relieved to hear the soft noise in the distance.
Immediately, she began counting.
One, two, three…
Orderly, at a quick pace.
Ten, eleven, twelve…
On occasion they paused, hesitated a beat then resumed.
Twenty, one, two…
The steps paused, a noise pronounced as they scuffled against the stone. A loud rattle of metal and a small grunt. Another, smaller rattle and the steps resumed.
Thirty, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
The guard appeared somewhere ahead of her, peered into the cell and examined the interior before resuming. A quick stop to ensure she wasn't breaking free.
Thirty seven steps to the corner, a little under five minutes for a full rotation. It was difficult to tell the layout entirely, but there had to be an atrium somewhere based on the changing echo. That open space was more difficult to pace, she estimated it to be seventy but couldn't hear beyond forty. Beyond the guard that just passed, three more visited her cell at random, unpredictable intervals. It seemed only one — the one who just passed — was dedicated to a routine.
Having a time frame to take action and make an escape was nice, but it was one minor component of a laundry list toward true freedom. Straining against her bindings, she flexed enough to lift her toes off the floor. Despite the tortuous, medieval style imprisonment, her captor's goals were not truly torture or execution. The chains were set to a height leaving her just enough space to rest the soles of her feet on the ground, giving her time to keep the weight of her body off her wrists and prevent permanent injury.
Every four hours on queue, the cell was opened, she was jarred awake and forced to drink a pittance of water and a mouthful or two of what she could only identify by taste as a baked potato.
She definitely imagined worse when it came to imprisonment by a rival family. At least she hadn't been disrobed or abused too greatly. Contemplating abuse, a lingering sting from the side of her torso and the back of her skull acted as a reminder that her current bindings were of her own making.
Originally, she'd been gagged and restrained behind her back though, despite being shackled at the ankle, free to roam the interior of her previous cell. After headbutting the guard that tended to her first and breaking his leg to try and make an escape, she'd received far less hospitable treatment.
Relaxing her arms, she rolled her wrists to keep them from going more numb than they already were.
Being blind was both physical and metaphorical. She had no idea who in particular had captured her, though she knew that one woman, Ophelia, did the actual deed. Dimakos wasn't a magus family name she was familiar with, let alone one that would have a grudge against the Tohsakas. She'd already concluded the name to be a fake, one designed specifically not to arouse suspicion. Imprisonment gave her time to narrow down the suspects to a handful: The Edelfelts, the Ainsworths, the Animuspheres and — less likely — whatever remained of Lectra's family, the Hammons.
Gently rotating herself in place, she used one foot as a pivot and the other to idly kick across the ground, scanning for pebbles or rocks to get a better grasp of the room's scale. Eventually, she found success. Striking a rock and sending it clattering along the ground, it failed to meet a wall and fell silent on its own power.
So there was enough room to move around.
Gripping the chain and bracing her wrists against the outside of the shackles, she experimented resting her weight and hoisting herself off the ground. She could already hear Shirou criticizing her.
They're a pair of shackles from 1843, crafted by John Smith who had a stomach ache at the time.
Lifting herself and dropping suddenly to jar against her bindings, she tested the structural integrity of wherever she was mounted. Nothing budged, but that hardly proved the mounting to be infallible.
Normally I'd project a key and be out in a couple seconds but tracing showed me the locking mechanism was partially broken and only needed ten pounds of force in this specific direction to break.
Grinding her teeth against the damp rag in her mouth, her anger grew. Being bitter about her lack of potential in one of the simplest fields of magecraft wouldn't get her anywhere. Shirou might have had great potential with his mastery of a single element, but she had access to them all simultaneously. If one spell failed to provide results, she'd use another and repeat ad infinitum until she was free.
However, she had to question whether her magecraft would even work within the dungeon. Since she was fully conscious and distinctly alert, she could safely assume whatever field existed was not affecting the Od within her body.
In a display of physical strength and flexibility, she wrenched herself upwards, throwing her feet toward her face to invert herself completely. Cautiously, she sought the roof with her toes, trying to discern how easy freeing herself would be. Thankfully, the ceiling resided a few feet above her wrist shackles, allowing her to plant both feet against the roof itself.
Inverted with her head toward the cold, unyielding stone below, she strained at her shackles, using the power of her entire body to gauge the strength of her binds. The rough edge of the metal shackles dug into her wrists, enough to break the skin. She wouldn't use reinforcement, not yet. She first needed to see if it was even possible at all without magecraft. The inversion pooling blood in her head, the strain of her efforts and the pain in her wrists were blurring and ebbing the edges of her vision. She couldn't handle much more, but there was enough left in her to make one last all-out push!
A shift.
A twitch that resonated through the metal shackles into her arms.
Nothing had moved but there had been a settling, a crack.
Ending her strain, she carefully allowed herself to fall back vertical and rest upon her feet. Her time was running short anyway, she'd need the full allotment to ensure her escape went smoothly.
A minute passed, allowing blood to drip down her arms from the fresh cuts at her wrist. There was bound to be a bounded field within the cell, likely something that could detect the presence of magecraft and sound an alarm. While less likely to detect internalized magecraft, the possibility still existed. She'd have but one good opportunity to break free.
Blood dripping down her arm had worked its way along her shoulder, causing a great deal of discomfort. Softly, footfalls echoed through the hallway outside her cell. Counting the steps and listening, she heard the soft jingle of keys on a ring. It was a guard from the random rotation, not the one that passed by prior.
They were larger, something denoted by the fewer number of steps it took to reach her cell. While somewhat of a leap, Rin assumed them to be female. The consistent, rhythmic nature of the metal clatter could have meant the ring was attached at their hip.
Stopping at the front of her cell, Rin once again did her best to remain still. Nothing but trouble would arise if the guard spotted the blood dripping from her wrists.
A scuffling turn, the return of the jingle.
"Hey," a shout from down the hall. "I thought you were clocking out."
A sigh, a woman by voice. "I was, just making one more round."
The man who spoke first approached, stopping just before her cell.
Damnit, if either one of them notices, I'll never be able to get out of here.
Doing her best to keep her body relaxed, she focused on breathing deeply. Why wouldn't the tension in her body leave?
"So I was wondering, you want to grab a drink once I'm off the clock?"
Standing amidst prisoners in the middle of a damp, cold dungeon hardly seemed like the ideal place to try flirting to Rin. It was a sentiment shared by the guard woman as she produced a single, high pitched laugh that conferred second hand embarrassment even to Rin herself. "Sorry but no, I've got a pretty strict policy against sleeping with coworkers."
A definite swing and a miss from the male made more punctual by the shaky struggle to continue the conversation nonchalantly. As they spoke, blood continued to trickle down her side, growing increasingly uncomfortable by the moment. The now chilled fluid tickled intensely as it ran along the side of her body. Keeping still and quiet as it travelled was almost more tortuous than being strung up from the ceiling.
Eventually, she simply couldn't handle it a moment longer. Writhing to let her clothes itch at her body, the chains above her rattled, breaking the conversation ahead of her.
"Is she awake?"
"Looks like."
Unable to speak, unable to see, she could only hope they didn't spot the blood dripping from her bindings. Was it noticeable? Was it not? She had no idea either way. The best way to avoid attention to herself would be to return to being motionless.
Doing just so, there was a scoff after a short moment. "Can't even beat this one for listening in."
Continuing down the hall, the jingle of keys resumed. "You'd punish a prisoner for listening to you while you're talking in front of their cell?"
The two continued their banter as they walked down the hall, leaving Rin alone in silence once again.
The guard's conversation was enough to let her know her time in the cell unharmed was closing quickly. While just a guess, she could almost predict that man would return to punish her for having ears. Counting in her mind, she allowed a minute to pass, creating the most distance between herself and the two guards who had just left.
Hoisting her legs up above her head once more, she planted her feet on either side of the mount into the ceiling and applied tension to keep herself steady. Breaking from her restraints would be loud enough as it was, there would be no such thing as a stealthy exit. Even if the cell's bounded field could detect her magecraft, she'd be free, able to ungag and unblind herself and access more of her magecraft.
Straining against her bindings, a knife plunged into her heart and mana flooded her muscles. Reinforcing her entire body, the metal shackles no longer sliced into her flesh. Putting all she had into breaking her bonds, it struggled to yield yet still.
Come on Tohsaka, what's the point of having a nightly exercise regime if you can't break apart some stone? You're even reinforcing yourself!
Holding tension, she sucked in a breath and put everything she had into breaking her bindings. Despite receiving her full effort, the chain remained still. As expected, her magecraft triggered some type of alarm and heavy footfalls neared rapidly.
She couldn't– wouldn't rely on Shirou for everything.
She wouldn't be helpless!
A resounding crack and her arms twitched toward the ground. Progress, her bindings were breaking. Contributing with every muscle in her body, the twitch turned to a jar, then a sudden snap as the mounting surface disintegrated beneath her feet.
Gravity overtook her next and the ground came shockingly fast. Landing on her elbows and following up with her knees against the hard stone, she was thankful that she'd reinforced her body as it hardly hurt at all.
Immediately reaching up to rip the gag down from her mouth and the blindfold over top of her head, the dim settings of her prison greeted her. Her room was narrow but deep, with the front facing out into a far narrower hallway of rough unfinished stonework. Both the cell itself and the stone it was built into was notably older than the electric lights it was illuminated by. While her cell itself was kept dim, free of lights, the hallway was bright. Three separate sets of quick footsteps approached her cell and it wouldn't be long before they were upon her. Contorting and twisting her wrists, she managed to cup the manacles with one hand, uttering "Einfrieren" to blast a freezing gale across the metal.
But nothing happened.
Hissing a curse as her expectations came to be, her mind raced in an effort to plan her next steps. She'd already squandered her first change and was lucky enough to get a second, was she really going to squander it so easily?
No, she could still fight. Even without externalized magecraft she could take advantage of her physical training. After all, all of that training had been for scenarios exactly like the one she found herself in, when her appearance as a feeble magus could be abused.
The shackles binding her wrist were still holding strong. She'd freed herself by ripping the anchors from the stone itself, leaving her with a three foot length of chain ended with a stone-covered steel mounting bracket.
It was so rudimentary, it could hardly be called a weapon, but it would still do some damage as a very short whip.
Still, even with a decent weapon that managed to kill the first guard, she'd be quickly handled by the remaining two. She needed access to her magecraft.
It was foolish, but she had to play an all-or-nothing gambit.
Finding and collecting a sharp-looking shard of rock from the ground, Rin momentarily allowed her reinforcement to fade so she could etch runes learned from Shirou into the flesh of her own thigh.
A second loop-hole, but a dangerous one. Runes fed off the mana of the object they were etched into, or that which was supplied by a magus themselves. When etched into a magus' own body, the effects wouldn't stop until they expended all mana or deactivated their circuits. Mind racing, she bit down on her lip and with minor hesitation gouged the rune Tiwaz into her skin. If her memory served it would shroud her with a protective barrier that would repel lesser magecraft.
Discarding the stone shard, she stood upright and weighed her next steps. Based on the footfalls, she was running out of time. Eyeing her weapon one last time as she prepared to step toward the front of her cell, she was struck with inspiration.
Gripping the chain, she shut her eyes and examined the steel as if she were reinforcing her own body. Analyzing its structure, she filled the vacancies with Od and modified the parameters of the material itself, bonding link to link as if welding the metal together.
Opening her eyes and releasing a shaky breath, she glanced down to the now genuine weapon within her hand. The dynamic chain had straightened and hardened, giving her a long stiff handle with the clump of rock at the opposite end.
A confirmation that her runes were correct was a slight shimmer to her skin as if radiating heat, the actualization of a thin bounded field. Speaking of heat, keeping up such a precisely moulded bounded field that could move with her was guzzling at her mana, far more than any normal spell. Whether an effect of the dungeon's bounded field or a side effect of carving the rune into her own body. Her exceptional reserves meant she'd be capable of supporting it for hours or more if she remained stationary, but she was still on a timer nonetheless.
The footsteps rounded the corner of her hallway. The guard was alone, though wouldn't be for long. Hefting her makeshift chain-club, she counted the steps within her mind as she approached the doorway. Timing it in her mind, she sprinted full force at the door to her cell.
Crashing into it shoulder first, her reinforced muscles and hardened skin bent the aged iron, albeit with no small effort.
Her timing had been perfect, with the first guard to arrive within striking distance of her club.
Reflexively shutting her eyes while swinging upwards desperately, the sharp snap of a gunshot stung her ears and the club shuddered within her grasp.
Opening her eyes, she first found a spray of blood on the wall and cieling followed by the prone form of a guard face-down on the ground.
But that wasn't quite accurate.
Their chest was still pointed up to the ceiling.
Footsteps and instincts reeling her back, she shook her head and examined herself. They'd fired their gun, where had the bullet gone?
Looking down, she spotted the fragments of lead and copper still stuck to a circular welt on her hip. Discovering it also revealed the pain it had caused. The runes did nothing for physical attacks, especially not bullets. The lack of penetration was her reinforcement's doing.
Wincing and wiping away the squashed bullet, her eyes couldn't help but return to the guard, a man, she'd just killed. That she had killed.
They were dead.
Shutting her eyes, she inhaled deeply and tried to vacate her mind.
She was a magus, she would walk with death.
She couldn't hesitate or think, she needed to do.
Opening her eyes, she collected the firearm — a pistol of some sort — from the guard. Shirou had shown her how they functioned but that had nearly been the end of it. She was neither particularily good with firearms, nor was she all too comfortable using them.
Yet, she couldn't deny there was no better weapon in a place without magecraft.
Awkwardly maneuvering her chain-club so it could tuck under her arm, she held the pistol with great difficulty, being forced to twist her back at an awkward angle so she could properly look down the sights.
Aiming down the hallway toward a feminine voice shouting questions her ears refused to acknowledge, a female figure rounded the corner.
Was it the guard from earlier? The one Rin had overheard just moments ago? Had Rin just killed the man who had asked her out then? What did she look like? What expression was on her face?
It was too dark to tell.
She'd never know.
Maybe that was for the better.
Even after being kidnapped, she couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of sorrow for her. They hadn't treated her especially awfully, but they were a blockade between her and freedom.
A gunshot echoed through the hall.
… … …
… … …
The woman's mere presence in the room dropped the temperature within by what felt like ten degrees. Glaring near literal icy daggers in his direction, she maintained her glower while taking a few strides into the room. Each step was accented by a clack from a pair of hard-soled shoes.
Anything descriptive about the woman beyond her vicious eyes was difficult to decipher. From what little he could see, she shared her sister's golden-blonde hair and stood quite a bit taller than Illya. He didn't risk gathering an accurate number via tracing as he doubted his brain had recovered.
His sister joined him at his side and her hand landed on his lower back. Immediately after contact, a warming wave spread through his body. Healing magecraft, a last effort to fix whatever remaining damage he had done to himself.
The clacking of the Edelfelt's hard-soled shoes echoed through the library as she strode toward the fireplace. Despite keeping her eyes on Shirou as she moved, upon reaching the fading firelight, she turned her back on him and seemingly ignored his presence entirely.
He understood the unspoken message. Despite living outside the Clock Tower, she was a thoroughbred magus and her actions thus far had all been part of a mental war.
Before the dying light, he could better see who Annalliina was. Wearing a floor-draping dress, she was a waifish woman that he guessed weighed less than a hundred pounds. Unlike her sister's elaborate drill curls, Annalliina allowed her hair to fall naturally.
Before her gaze, the lingering embers offering a mote of light nearly retreated into nothingness. What little light they did emanate clued Shirou in on the buildup of frost on the floor at the edges of the woman's dress. His research into her before had garnered next to nothing in terms of data. He wasn't sure of her capabilities, techniques or demeanor. Beyond her existence, little seemed to be known by other magi. He knew he was flying blind from the start, but standing before her he couldn't help but question whether he had made a mistake.
Against ice, the number of counters he had was small. Outside of his reality marble in its entirety, he had a flaming whip and two blades from Archer's memories both distinctly identified as Untraceable - Deadly.
Watching, waiting for the woman to speak, ten seconds passed. Ten turned to twenty and twenty into forty. Experimentally, Shirou rubbed his fingers together to produce a subtle noise. He was able to hear it, eliminating the possibility of spontaneously going deaf. He questioned her by name, provoking the woman to turn partially and offer a sideways glare laden with vitriol.
Identified, he matched her expression. "You stole someone important to me," he began. Her expression never changed, though he doubted it would. Ideally he'd like to resolve everything without violence, but what angle did he take? Did he explain his actions? Did he appeal to her or her ego? Did he threaten her with force? A mercenary would align with logic or threats, but an angle of sympathy could throw her off and garner more results. Though, beyond strategy and tact, he was furious. Clenching his fists tight to restrain himself, he could feel his face contort into a bitter scowl on its own. "She had no part in this, she wasn't involved in what happened to Luvia."
The woman raised her right brow, a change barely caught in the low light.
He continued, angered further by her lack of response. "I'll let you do whatever you want to me, but let her go first."
Turning to face him, he felt a familiar paralyzing sensation across his body. Mystic eyes of binding, something he was experienced with. They weren't as powerful as Illya's, meaning they'd do nothing to stop him if a true need arose. "Just like that? You're going to roll over for her?" the albino at his side asked with incredulity.
He was hopeful that Rin was in good health, he had to be. Until she gave him reason to believe otherwise, keeping her safe and getting her back to London was the highest priority. Rin didn't deserve any suffering for deeds he committed.
Wordlessly, Annalliina turned away again and moved towards a bookshelf. Searching for a moment, she took a tome from the shelf, opened it and withdrew three scrolls from its pages.
He recognized the scrolls immediately and a growing pit bloomed in his stomach.
Three geass scrolls.
… … …
The shackles from her wrist landed on the ground with a clatter. Bouncing off the now barren steel bracket at her feet, the shackles slipped over the edge of the platform she stood on. Loose chain slithered along the floor, sending her former weapon falling several feet below into a cacophonous pile of steel.
A guard, the man who'd asked his co-worker on a date, had a ring of keys she'd meticulously gone through to free herself fully.
She was finally unbound.
Landing an arm and the weight of her body against the nearby cold stone wall on her right, Rin captured her breath. Ahead of her lay a two tier atrium lined with cells holding prisoners of various ages and conditions. In one she could see readily, a blood-stained blanket covered what she could only assume was a corpse.
She'd been spared from that fate, at least for now.
Though, spared wasn't entirely correct. Looking back over her shoulder, mutilated corpses of five guards laid behind her. Shot, crushed, maimed and broken. Each of them had lives, histories and futures. She'd ended it all to save herself.
She felt sick.
She felt like throwing up.
She assured herself it was necessary, but that didn't make her feel any different.
Was this how it was? How could Shirou seem so resolved, so detached?
To be a magus was to walk hand in hand with death. She'd sworn an oath to kill any normal human who witnessed magecraft to preserve its secret. She'd claimed to be capable of killing others without thinking.
Now she had.
She'd killed. Blood stained her shoes, it had splattered her body and their anguished screams were trapped in her ears.
Ripping her eyes off the sight behind her, she pushed off the wall, leaving behind a splotchy streak of blood on the stone. It wasn't hers, she was pretty sure. Looking down at her hands and herself, she felt tainted. Wiping her hands on her clothes was, in retrospect, a mistake. It neither cleaned her attire nor her skin and merely smeared it across everything.
Disgusted, struggling to breath from the tightness in her throat, her body finally gave up in its fight and what little contents she had in her stomach exited with force.
Afterwards, she wasn't certain whether she felt better or worse.
She simply was.
"First time?"
A voice down the hall. More accurately, from ahead at the corner of the atrium. A young dark-skinned man, leaning against the bars on his elbows with his hands jutting outwards haphazardly. As expected from a prison, he looked as disheveled as they came. A famished frame barely supporting torn, dirtied rags. Matted, oily black hair she'd guess to be shoulder length and an equally unkempt beard, there was one notable feature she couldn't miss: a distinctly expensive-looking woven blindfold covering his eyes.
Confused, head full of thoughts, her mouth moved on its own. "Being a prisoner?"
"Killing." The response was harsh, simple and didn't aid in her self reflection. "Don't see a magus puke their guts out often and the food's not that bad."
Bracing herself against a railing ahead, she took a few steps closer. "You could see that?"
"Heard mostly but yes. It was a decent show." He flared his hands, then rolled both at the wrist. "The fighting, not the vomiting." By accent and the fact he spoke English alone, she coined the man as American, strange to see so far from home.
The blindfolded man who could see. Strange enough but not quite the strangest thing and after the Grail War, there was little that could astonish her. "Is this the part where you ask me to free you?"
He shrugged and then smiled beneath his beard. "Skipping to the end, huh? Well, since you offered."
"Sounds like a good way to get killed."
He hummed, a noise indicative of his disagreement. "More like a good way to make it out of here alive. You've got the whole place buzzing and you ain't gonna be able to handle all the guards on your own. Outside that, you don't even know where you're going."
She could hear voices shouting in an unfamiliar language deeper within the prison. Biting the inside of her cheek as the stress mounted, she considered her options but retained her skepticism. "What do they say about the blind leading the blind?"
He chuckled, a genuine response. "You bust this gate and get this blindfold off and you won't need to worry." She recalled the fable of The Scorpion and the Frog. He was a prisoner amidst some magi's dungeon, there had to be a reason for his being there. That being said, she was a prisoner amidst some magi's dungeon. It'd be hypocritical for her to judge the man when they were identical to one another, at least from the other's perspective. The man drew one hand back and extended the other for a handshake. "They also say the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Looking between the man, his outstretched hand and in the direction of the voices assembling, she knew she would need to make a decision soon. Without knowing how many awaited her ahead, she couldn't assess whether she was capable of escaping on her own power.
She'd been lucky to catch the guards behind her at her cell by surprise. The unexpected attack had given her an edge; had allowed her to overpower them before they could react. She didn't have the element of surprise in the fight to come.
Was she even capable of killing more people?
The sickening feeling returning, her eyes lingered on the man's hand.
… … …
The contracts atop the table ranged from outright twisted to grossly inconvenient. Considering what he expected, he was surprised to find a lack of revenge or animosity amidst the contracts, at least, not directly. Shirou had anticipated an eye-for-an-eye mentality but the contracts seemed focused on recouping losses associated with Luvia's absence. After carefully reading and digesting the contents in their entirety over a few minutes, he could summarize each one into a few words.
He could take Luvia's place as acting mercenary for the Edelfelt family — sans remuneration — until a suitable replacement was born.
He could front not only the bounty associated with all future contracts made requesting the Edelfelt family's services, but also the cost to hire outside forces to complete the job. Like the first, this would persist until he was replaced. Unlike the other contracts, this option contained a plethora of legal jargon that made deciphering its true meaning difficult. Amidst it, he could determine that the Edelfelt planned to run the reimbursement as a "free mercenary work" promotional stunt. Ultimately, he'd be swallowed whole in debt.
Or he could sire an heir.
The third contract was, to be put bluntly, outrageous. It wasn't explicit in who the heir had to originate from, only that one be provided. The notion brought back memories of Sakura, forfeited to another magus family by her own father.
Without speaking a word, the notion was made that he had a choice to make and a geass to sign.
In truth, signing a contract even as weighted within the magus world as a self-geass scroll wasn't much more than a trace of Rule Breaker away from being voided. If he didn't abide by the contents of the contract, however, Annalliina would likely come for him again and be far more aggressive than she already was.
"You can't expect us to sign a geass without a guarantee that Rin is unharmed." The statement came from Illya, but Shirou shared it equally. "Show her to us before we make a decision."
The Edelfelt shook her head solidly, unwilling to yield to any demand.
Shirou's scowl deepened. "Then there's no point in any of this, I'll just find her myself." The gun fired in his head, his circuits activated. Before he could begin tracing, however, Illya shouted for him to wait.
"We can curse her to tell the truth." Typically when the word curse was used, it wasn't with a positive connotation. Cluing in to his own cluelessness, Illya elaborated. "It's just a simple blood curse. I can teach her the formalcraft and she can enact it on herself." To Shirou, it seemed like an apt solution. Not only would it confirm Rin's safety, the fact Annalliina could curse herself meant she could revoke it at will, even if there was suspicion the curse wasn't what Illya claimed it to be. It was a no-risk procedure.
There was a soft, affirmative hum from the Edelfelt, the first vocalization he'd heard since her arrival. Extending her hands, frost formed, gathered and solidified into the shape of a knife. Placing the blade against her other palm, she seemingly waited for instructions.
Illya wasted no time, guiding Annalliina through the process in a way that still baffled Shirou. Restricted to oral instruction out of fear of approaching a woman, potentially their enemy, while they brandished a weapon, he was further amazed that there was little to no corrections or adjustments required. Judging from her readiness to cut herself, he assumed Annalliina had some experience with curses which likely aided overall.
Using blood from a neat cut on her wrist, the Edelfelt drew the symbol as per Illya's guidance on the back of the same hand. Designed for practicality, it didn't require reagents outside of the affected's own blood, correct glyphs and an application of mana. Finished, the sigil flashed with a pale red light, briefly illuminating the golden dress she wore.
"Should be good to go," Illya assured. "It's the most basic version available but it's all I can manage with what we have. Tell the truth and it will flash, tell a lie and it will stay dormant. We'll try to ask questions that can be answered with yes or no."
Looking up at him, she was handing over the reins. He supposed it was a good idea to test the function. "Is your name Annalliina Edelfelt?"
"Yes," produced a gentle flash of red light. Her voice was soft, brittle like fragile porcelain. To Shirou, it almost sounded like speaking was actively painful. His throat itched and he wanted to clear it from just a single word.
"Did you kidnap Rin Tohsaka?"
"No," accented with a flash.
Confused, Shirou furrowed his brow. "Did you hire someone to kidnap Rin Tohsaka?"
This time she answered in the affirmative, producing another flash. It was as he had expected. The magecraft wasn't infallible, it only showcased what the affected believed to be true or false. It was technically truthful that Annalliina herself hadn't kidnapped Rin. She'd merely given the order.
Shirou had learned an important limitation. The curse was far from infallible and his questions would need to be carefully worded to avoid any half truths. Beyond that, he had to acknowledge that even a truthful response only signified that it was truthful as far as she was aware with the information she had.
"Is Rin Tohsaka alive?" The hardest question first, he received a quick confirmation and flash. Relieved, he could feel the tension release from his shoulders. "Does she have any concerning injuries?" A negative response and a flash. His most pressing questions were answered, leaving him the opportunity to sneak in a question on something she wouldn't answer otherwise. Even refusing to answer at all could allude to an answer but he'd only have the one opportunity.
"This geass doesn't indicate who the heir's mother needs to be, just that one needs to be provided," Illya noted. "Was leaving that part out a mistake?"
There was a pause, a vacancy that amplified the chilling effect the Edelfelt's presence seemed to exude. With her spare hand, she brushed the back of her hand and destroyed the curse.
His lynching question had been stolen from him to answer a question he already knew the answer to. Or, rather, it was better to say he didn't care what the answer was. He wouldn't accept such a ridiculous contractual obligation, the other options were far superior.
"I thought as much. He'll accept this one then, it's the best option presented to settle the matter."
His head snapped to his sister fast enough to actively fire pain through his collarbone.
… … …
Sliding open the door to the cell, the man stepped out and stretched languidly. He smelled as if he hadn't bathed in a month but considering his circumstances, he probably hadn't. She could hardly hold it against him, being that she likely wasn't at her best either. Taking a step back, Rin asked the first thought that came to mind. "How long were you in there?"
"What's today?"
She opened her mouth to reply but she wasn't entirely certain herself. Using the last day she could remember as a ballpark, she answered "Second week of August, two thousand four."
"August?" The incredulity in his voice was as palpable as his expression. As quickly as it arrived, the expression slid into a smiling shrug. "Eight months or so."
Immediately Rin felt as if she had made a mistake. "What did you do?"
The smile vanished and his entire demeanor changed. Mistake number two, evidently. "Broke my contract. Thought I'd be safe in Chile but they tracked me down and dragged me all the way here."
"You know where we are, who imprisoned us?"
"Real fish out of water, huh?" He forced air out his nose. "We're right in the belly of Finland's beast, the Edelfelt family."
Suspicions confirmed, her concern grew. The Edelfelt family was the worst possible outcome. Their extraordinarily deep pockets meant they'd be capable of employing a great number of hardened magi to act as guards. Not only did that make her own escape more unlikely — especially alone — it diminished the chance that even Shirou could get to her, assuming he even knew where she was.
The notion both pacified and worried her further.
She felt better about her decision to free the unknown prisoner but worried about Shirou. There wasn't any doubt he would try to rescue her, but Annalliina would know that without a doubt. She'd meticulously plan for it well in advance and develop counters specifically to debilitate him. Rin could only hope that Shirou would see the trap being set for him and avoid falling into it.
"Anyhow, thanks for busting me out, name's Raven." He neglected to extend a hand, but considering his visual impairment it made sense. Offering her own name, he produced a bemused hum. "Yeah you really ain't from around here." Turning around, the man drew up his hair to reveal the clasp on the back of his blindfold. "Just get this off of me and we'll make our way out of here."
It was obvious the man had mystic eyes and safe to say they were considerably powerful. If Annalliina was confident enough to imprison the man without shackles or restraints of any variety, he was undoubtedly useless without being able to access their power.
It made her suspicious. If he was powerful enough for the blindfold to be needed but not so to be restrained, how was he captured in the first place?
Rin looked over her shoulder in the direction of the carnage she caused. Could she even bring herself to do such a thing again? She wouldn't have to if Raven was as powerful as he claimed to be.
She deliberated the dilemma for a moment, then reached out to the clasp. He was her best chance at escape. She had little choice but to trust the blind man blindly.
Pain.
Shooting, searing, radiating from her arm accompanied by a ringing in her ears. Reflexively clasping a hand over the spot and snapping her head toward the source of the noise, she found a guard pointing a firearm, some type of rifle, directly at her.
She could barely twitch before the muzzle flashed again and a crack flew by her ear. Commanding Raven to run, Rin pointed a finger from her unharmed hand and fired back with gandr as quickly as she could. It wasn't a moment before the third round struck the shoulder of the same arm. Knocking back her entire body, it felt as if someone had kicked her in the chest. The first shot of gandr was sent wide as a result, but the second struck the guard's gun, knocked it to the side and discharged it into the wall.
Disoriented, the gunman chose to retreat behind cover, calling out to his comrades for assistance. Walking backwards while pinning the guard in cover, Rin and Raven rounded the corner into safety.
Examining her injuries, she was thankful to find herself mostly unharmed. She'd taken the first round directly against her right bicep and the second below her collarbone but the reinforcement from her breakout had spared her from a mortal wound. It still left her with a painful, nasty-looking injury about a square inch in size that was peppered with spalled metal fragments.
She couldn't have been more thankful for Shirou's — and to a lesser extent Kiritsugu's — training. Originally, she thought training her reinforcement to the point of deflecting bullets to be a fool's errand but she couldn't discredit the effectiveness any longer.
"Gonna get this offa me now or wait and see if third time's the charm?" Revealing the blindfold clasp to her again, she didn't hesitate the second time. As the latch parted, the sound of shattering glass and the ephemeral vision of fading inscriptions signified the breaking of a bounded field or some curse.
The blindfold fell and landed on the ground below with a surprisingly heavy thud. Raven turned and smiled warmly, offering thanks.
For Rin, his expression and his words were the furthest thing from her mind.
She'd either made a grave mistake or a powerful ally.
Glimmering a thousand colours, the man's iridescent eyes produced their own light amidst the dim dungeon. A kaleidoscope of ever-shifting pigments and shapes, she could only utter a single stupefied word in the form of a question while lost amidst the mind-bending display.
"Rainbow?"
… … …
No magi made a deal without a reason.
As Shirou had expected, Annalliina's explanation of the contract Illya nearly signed him into was as one-dimensional as the writing itself. At the basic level, Luvia needed to be replaced. She had been the executor of bids and contracts undertaken by the Edelfelt family while Annalliina handled the logistics, planning, paperwork, bartering, secretarial work and nearly everything else that wasn't killing the specified target.
Annalliina's explanation and the geass terms had made it clear: she was looking to shirk her familial responsibilities and keep her hands clean. She'd been "innocent" and separated from her family's business thus far due to Luvia, but that time was closing quickly unless she bandaged the situation.
It was a point of inner frustration. She wanted to be a mercenary and preserve a sense of morality. Be paid to murder without any of the guilt associated. To have her cake and eat it too.
Kiritsugu had been a mercenary, but the majority of his assassinations had been unpaid, performed to achieve his ultimate goal. When he was paid, it was for targets he'd already planned on taking down, targets that aligned with his end goal.
Formally, he was trapped. Like some twisted riddle, the contracts before him seemed to represent a moral, monetary or physical limitation he would need to break or sacrifice in order to uphold. He could choose one of two ways that would forfeit his own life and future, or commit a child to the same fate as Sakura.
Forcefully, he could kill Annalliina and erase the Edelfelt family and their manor from the face of Finland. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to that, but with the hand he'd been dealt, he was limited in terms of options.
Clenching his fists in frustration, he deliberated the choices mentally and looped back time and time again to what he perceived to be the least objectionable avenue: Force.
Testing his brain by tracing the room, he found his wounds had stabilized to the point of bearability. High power noble phantasms would be out of the question for some time longer, but he could make do with lesser weapons.
He was shoved partly by Illya stepping forward. "Apologies, Mrs. Edelfelt, but could you offer us twenty minutes to digest these geass and perhaps construct a counter offer?"
Annalliina hesitated, continued glaring at Shirou directly, then produced a small sigh and passing motion with her hand. Gliding through the room and exiting through the door she entered, they eerily closed softly behind her as if by an unseen hand. As far as Shirou's tracing had unearthed, there was no physical mechanism to facilitate such a thing, nor had the Edelfelt herself used magecraft. It wasn't peculiar enough on its own but paired alongside the fact she met them unarmed and undefended, it provoked his paranoia.
Alone with Illya, Shirou switched languages to speak in Japanese. While uncommon, magecraft for translation existed, so he'd likely only have one opportunity to get a hidden message out. "Careful, someone might be watching."
Seamless, Illya carried along in Japanese. "Then what's our next move?"
"You know there are only two options."
"Take a deal or start fighting," she surmised.
"None of the deals are in our favour."
"When are they ever?"
"You read them, did you find any loopholes?"
Illya paused, looked down at the contracts and bit her thumb. "The heir contract is still the easiest and least invasive."
"For who?"
She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You and Rin could–"
"I won't give away a child like they're nothing but a tool, nobody deserves–"
"What Sakura went through, I understand." Illya turned to stare at him with dead, unflinching eyes. "But this is how magi have operated for hundreds of years. I only claimed that of our four choices, producing an heir is the least objectionable and intrusive to our futures."
Shirou felt bitter, a feeling magnified by the fact it was directed at his own sister. "So because other people do it, I'm supposed to be happy with it?"
Illya blinked rapidly, rolled her head and inhaled deeply. "That isn't what I said. On the way here you said you wanted to handle this peacefully, without any killing." His jaw tightened. "Now when we're given a chance to put all this behind us with a simple deal you want to go right back to killing."
"Simple? What sort of deal trades in lives?"
"Every deal a magus makes." Anger was finally reaching Illya's tone as frustration flushed her face. "What sort of person thinks the life of a stranger is the same as hundreds?"
"Who calls their own child a stranger?"
"If you never know them, what else can they be called?"
"What about 'my child'?"
"Just because they happen to have your blood doesn't make them any less of a stranger to you!"
"Of course it does!"
The words left his mouth without stopping at the filter of his brain. Illya recoiled as if he'd slapped her, staring at him in bewilderment. After a brief silence, she turned away and spoke in a low, level tone. "I never expected you of all people to say that."
Deflating, he recognized his mistake. Shame consumed frustration's place in his voice. "I didn't mean it like that," he began. He tried to formulate words on his feelings, on why he felt how he did, but it was difficult. It felt as if his mind was locked in a civil war. Kiritsugu believed that lives were numbers, and only the greater side mattered. However, when Shirou considered if he'd kill a hundred people to save Illya, it wasn't even a question.
Deeper, a small, stranger part of himself seemed compelled to make every effort to save them all.
"You're my sister, that's never changed and I wouldn't want it to."
Impervious to his backtracking, Illya remained level. "You'll kill a hundred just to save one." She turned to face him with teary eyes and a reddened face. Far worse was the expression smeared across her face, a mixture of disgust and unfamiliarity. It proclaimed "I don't know you anymore" without needing her to say it.
Shirou grit his teeth. It sounded awful, horrendous, but he couldn't deny it in good faith. Staring directly, he spoke in a calm, unflinching tone. "I'd kill a thousand for one. Even ten thousand if that's what it took."
"Just to save a ba–"
"To save you or Rin."
Halted mid sentence, Illya's mouth remained agape for a moment. As her brain caught up with his statement, her lips closed and pursed tight. A softer tone — an understanding tone — followed. "You wouldn't kill innocent people though." Staring in silence, he knew his face betrayed his thoughts clear as day when Illya's softened look turned into a difficult grimace.
He knew the thoughts running through her mind because he'd contemplated them himself. The disgust over his blatant admission to murdering any number of people was being tamed by the notion that it would be to save her. The depths of how far he would go had been proven already, after he forfeited a near-limitless wish to bring Illya back once before.
A difficult, complicated pill to swallow.
The door at the other end of the room nearly exploded open, bouncing against bumpers set up on the walls. Once more, the chilling presence of Annalliina filled the room and the whispers of frost echoed off her skin. An ever expanding field of frost lined the floor where it hadn't prior. Behind her, in the hall, frost had crawled up along the walls, creeping along portraits and artwork.
Before either woman could speak, Shirou made his declaration first. "I'll sign your geass and give the Edelfelt family an heir."
Both women appeared surprised, with Annalliina appearing most affected. Immediately, the frost surrounding her receded, melting quickly in the ambient temperature of the manor. After condensing into water, it quickly refroze as her surprise abated. "If that is your decision."
Moving past Illya, he examined and selected the corresponding Geass. Projecting a scalpel — an act still tinged with pain from his exertion earlier — he made an incision on the pad of his index.
"W-wait, I should go over it again to make sure–"
"You've already read through and noted all the clauses," he reminded her. "Besides, we've wasted enough of Annalliina and Rin's time. Let's just get this over with and go home, we'll figure the details out later."
Sparing a glance, he watched Illya open her mouth to object before offering a small, reluctant sigh. Taking the display as a blessing, Shirou pressed his finger against the vellum and watched as the blood shifted to spell out his name. Producing a soft glow as it finished, he noted the fact that he felt no different despite binding his eternal soul.
Their host remained standing still within the threshold, only offering a small curt nod. "Now that you've settled that, it would appear your friend has escaped my dungeon."
… … …
It was rare for a human to be born with the circuits required to be considered a magus. Those humans then needed to be descendents of a magus family, with the knowledge of how to activate and utilize their craft, or stumble upon it themselves. A fractional number of these magi were blessed at birth with powers as close to magic as one could get without being a magician: Mystic Eyes. To these lucky few, the eyes went beyond such a simple sense as sight.
Mystic Eyes of Convergence.
From the bits and scraps Rin could gather while avoiding bullets and struggling to keep up to Raven's absurd pace both mentally and physically, it was deserving of its rainbow classification.
Convergence.
Defining a scattered, incomprehensible array to a singular point, a determined outcome.
He could see the future– futures as they approached and select from the innumerable options before him the one most desirable at that moment. It seemingly materialized in inciting the worst possible luck in their enemies and the best possible luck in themselves. Gunmen tripped on loose pebbles or bumped into one another like bumbling fools, weapons jammed or misfired outright. On the other hand, their luck was immaculate. All of Rin's gandr shots struck true as if guided by the hand of fate and bullets whizzed by harmlessly. On one occasion, a guard fired, missed their shot and the stray bullet bounced off a number of stray pipes before striking the guard themselves.
If nothing else, it validated Raven's statement and told Rin that he wasn't one to be trifled with.
Of course, she couldn't help but wonder how he came to be captured by Annillina, or why he broke his contract with them.
"Just a little further and we'll be there."
"You said that about the last two exits," Rin complained, keeping an eye behind them to ensure they weren't caught by surprise. Considering that, she contemplated if it was even necessary. Raven would be able to detect a future where they'd be spotted and be aware regardless.
"And like I told you then, there's no point selecting a future where we both die when the goal is getting out alive." Raven peaked around the corner a moment, then darted around it. Keeping as close behind him as she could, she gripped at the wound in her right bicep to try and numb the pain.
Without telling her how exactly his mystic eyes worked, she'd gleaned some insight. For starters, it wasn't infallible. They'd deliberately avoided two exits after he gave them little more than a quick glance. Whatever he witnessed, whatever futures he saw were impossible to change. Did Annalliina account for her prisoner when designing the dungeon's security or was his power simply far easier to defeat than she first imagined?
A left, a right and Raven stopped at the corner, gesturing for Rin to wait. "It's just up here, give me a minute." He took a few, brief glances around the corner, giving the Tohsaka a moment of thought.
She couldn't get the question out of her head, her curiosity had been piqued for far too long. "Why did you break your contract?"
"I don't kill kids," he replied easily, hardly even pausing from his efforts.
"Then why did you take the contract to begin with?"
He paused then to offer a perplexed glance. "Didn't tell me. Found out when I was staring them dead in the face." Peeking around the corner, he motioned with his head and made a noise. "Not dead like I killed them, like– You know what I mean."
Despite being a mercenary, it seemed as if Raven's morals were intact, at least partially. She still didn't blindly trust him, but it made her feel a little better about releasing him. "When you're free, do you plan on returning to being a killer for hire?"
"I prefer to call myself a mercenary, but yeah, probably."
"Won't the Edelfelts hunt you down and imprison you again?"
He shrugged, peeked out around the corner again and held his gaze down range. "The cold-blooded sister is easier to work with, easier to convince. Looks mean and tough as nails on the outside, but she's not so bad underneath. I reckon I can take a contract pro-bono to get back into their good books."
A thought occurred to Rin, did he know Luvia had been killed? He'd been in prison for eight months and hiding out for longer still. The only source of information would be from the guards, but would they bother telling the prisoners or talking about such an event?
"Looks like we'll have an opening anyway," he murmured, stepping away from the corner and standing in the middle of the hall.
Confused, she watched him a moment before shifting to the corner and peeking around it herself. A barren, featureless passageway that led to a dead end with a staircase recessed into the wall. Nondescript, barely different from the numerous others they passed outside of the presumed exit that was a staircase.
"Is the roof going to cave in?"
"Not this time," he murmured.
There wasn't any time to be bemused by the odd statement before three separate senses prickled to life. A sudden, shiver-inducing cold breeze, a creeping frost that crawled down the stairs and crept up to the ceiling. Both originated from a woman Rin had never seen before, flowing from the edges of her dress as if a portal to the south pole itself lay in place of her legs. An itching sense of overflowing mana, circuits gone haywire, similar to–
Illyasviel?
Following behind the stranger, unperturbed by the chilling frost was Illya. Of all the expectations she'd had, bringing Illya along on a rescue mission and negotiating with the kidnapper was near the bottom.
More in line with her expectations was Shirou trailing behind Illya, visibly chilled and uncomfortable, though surprisingly he didn't seem to be in the fighting mood either.
Calling out his name and moving from the corner, his head snapped in her direction and his discomfort from the cold vanished. Moving into full view, Raven threw out an arm as motion for her to stop. If she wanted, she'd be able to slip by him, but she wasn't planning on running into Shirou's arm with the strange woman — presumably Annalliina Edelfelt — between them. For all she knew, they had both fallen under the effects of hypnotic magecraft.
Raven spoke low, as if suspicious of the meeting. "I take it that's your knight in shining armour?"
"You could call him that."
He hummed in annoyance. "Since he hasn't killed her, he's made some sort of deal to spring you. I don't imagine I was included."
Glancing in her direction, there was a visible change in his entire demeanor. In one statement, they'd gone from partners in breakout to captor and hostage. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Shirou as he strode to the front and the subtle changes which told her he'd recognized the change too.
"That's right," Emiya admitted, much to Rin's chagrin. "But think about what you're planning. Right now you've only got one enemy that you might be able to work with diplomatically. Make the wrong move, it'll be four against one."
"Just four people between me and freedom sounds pretty good right about now, unless the Lady is interested in negotiating a deal." Nodding his head toward the Edelfelt woman, Shirou glanced over his shoulder so he could watch as she shook her head.
Raven grit his teeth and threw out a hand. "Then you leave me no choice but to–"
Shifting toward her, she was offered a full view of raw panic as it filled his jeweled eyes.
Snapping his hand back as if he'd been burned, he marveled at her for a moment before looking back to Shirou.
To an outside observer, it didn't appear as if Shirou had moved an inch or was in the midst of preparing anything. But through the years both observing and training him, she'd picked up on the subtle cues he made. His hand being half-clenched as if wrapped around the hilt of an imaginary sword and the subtle squint of his eyes.
Rin didn't need mystic eyes to see the futures that would have awaited Raven.
Slipping around the corner cautiously, she stepped sideways with the wall at her back to get closer to Shirou. Tightening his lips and furrowing his brow, Raven didn't make any further advances against her and she was able to get within arm's reach of Shirou. They both extended a hand to one another and with a soft tug as they connected, she moved to stand behind him. Ahead of Annalliina, Rin could feel the prickling cold that seemed to emanate from her entire body against her back.
"It was the right choice," Shirou agreed, then turned his head to look sideways at Annalliina. "Our agreement is complete, so I'll be leaving. Whatever you two want to do isn't any of my business."
Silence occasionally broken by the crackle of growing ice and the uneasy sensation of growing tension filled the hallway.
When nothing occurred for a few seconds more, Shirou used his own hand to guide her backwards, stepping away from the encounter wordlessly.
Of all the strange magus interactions she'd had in her life, the one before her marked high on the list. Away from Annalliina, the two continued to stare at one another in a silent battle. A tugging at her other arm nudged her toward Illya who whispered a question. "Should we really leave her alone with someone like that? Those mystic eyes—"
"She'll be fine," Rin assumed. Without any foundation to base her statement on, she hoped that vocalizing it would somehow alter reality and make it factual.
With the stairs upwards in view, Shirou released her hand and motioned toward the two girls behind him to ascend. "I'll be right up," he pacified, holding his gaze forward, toward the two magi.
Knowing a question would either cause her unneeded stress or go unanswered entirely, Rin huffed out a breath and began climbing with Illya in tow. She trusted Shirou with whatever he had planned. He was able to frighten Raven enough to stop him short without even attacking, and it seemed he'd made friends with Annalliina, at least for now. Even in the unlikely scenario where they both rallied against him, he'd likely be fine.
Ahead, through the doorway to the staircase, she could see the corner of a large landscape painting on a wall made of darkly stained wood slats. Was the dungeon directly beneath the Edelfelt manor?
She sure hoped Illya knew her way back out.
… … …
… … …
… … …
It didn't happen often, but it was nice to end a conflict without bloodshed. They'd never received formal permission from Annalliina to leave, but the neutrality of the guards was enough of a sign.
The terms to Rin's rescue weren't ideal, but they were fair and equivalent which was as much as he could ask for when it came to magi. He'd been blinded with anger initially, but after thinking it over back in London he could better understand Annalliina's motives with a clear head.
This conclusion was made easier by Rin herself. Shockingly, she agreed to go along with the plan despite her familiarity with the circumstances. When pressed for a reason, she explained that the situation was different from the beginning. Whereas she grew up with Sakura and grew attached to her sister, this child would grow up entirely within the Edelfelt family. Outside of some suspicions based on their appearance, if they were never told, they'd have no reason to believe they weren't of Edelfelt blood.
Therein lay the problem, however. The Geass at face value merely stated that Shirou needed to supply an heir for the Edelfelt family. A more thorough analysis implied that this heir needed to bear the Edelfelt magic crest.
Magic crest transplants weren't impossible or unheard of, but the survival rate of the patient was abysmally low and often came with complications. Rin and Illya estimated the chances of a full grafting of a crest comparable to the Tohsaka clan's over the course of a decade to be comparable to a coinflip.
Shirou himself could attest since his own body had initially rejected the Emiya crest. Thankfully, an outside force had corrected it, but who was to say he wouldn't be dead if they hadn't?
For the developing years of the child's life, magecraft training would be hellish, just as they had been for Sakura.
There was a solution, though its ease depended on how much one cared about morality and ethics.
Instead of Rin acting as surrogate, Annalliina would need to bear the child.
For Shirou, it was a decision out of the question. Nothing about the prospect intrigued him and the entire forfeiture of a child bordered on obscene in the first place.
Understanding, Rin agreed and claimed it was a last resort should the efforts of their original plan fail to prove acceptable. Meaning, more bluntly, their child rejected the crest grafting and died.
While they discussed, the prospect of completely invalidating the contract with a single Noble Phantasm lingered in his mind. He'd recovered Rin, the two most important people in his life were safe and he knew precisely who would hunt him down. If he erased the stain upon his soul and hid away, he was certain Annalliina would never be able to repeat her misdeeds.
Selfish.
It would destroy Rin's career as a magus and drag Illya back to the same lifestyle she so despised hiding away within the Einzbern castle. If they didn't resent him immediately for skewing their life so drastically, they would with time.
He'd commit to the year-long struggle then. Far from ideal, yet far from the worst outcome.
There were bound to be benefits in upholding the Geass beyond getting Annalliina off his back too. Perhaps Svin would finally realize his relationship with Gray was entirely platonic when he spent the next nine months catering to Rin more than he already did. In that time, Rin would complete a year's worth of schooling at the Clock Tower. With that, she'd be more comfortable deciding on the next steps of her life.
The only prominent problem in his life lay with the magician, Lectra.
It had been somewhat of a relief to learn she was disconnected from Rin's kidnapping, however he still wanted her to sign a Geass.
Rin had elected to write out the terms, first and foremost being that she would in no way bring about harm to Shirou, Illya or herself. Secondarily, she added that none of their secrets, including Shirou's reality marble, would be spoken of or discussed to anyone.
A clause preventing lying to any of the three was put into consideration but Shirou deemed it too barbaric and over the top. The two main clauses they had were more than enough to certify a betrayal couldn't occur. When Rin was able to source a scroll of fresh vellum, she created the Geass herself and brought Lectra over to sign it.
After reading over the contents, Lectra appeared dejected and pouty. "Looks like there won't be any more sparring between us, huh?"
A beat of silence before Rin spoke up. "I could add on-"
"Unfortunately not," Shirou interrupted, unwilling to let the opportunity slip past him. He knew the outcome of any future spars with her anyway. If he wasn't fighting to kill her outright, he'd lose every time. If there came a scenario somehow where he did need to kill Lectra, he didn't want her to know every one of his secrets. She'd seen Hrunting and Caladbolg, but he still had other useful tools like Gáe Bolg and Gáe Dearg at the ready. The latter, even up against a suit of pure mana, would be unstoppable, especially when made into an arrow.
Lectra's attempt to convince him with puppy dog eyes was met with staunch denial. "Alright, fine," the magician murmured before pricking her finger and pressing it against the vellum. Trust renewed, his relationship with Lectra returned to a point similar to how it once was.
Or it would have, he imagined. Lectra was still a magician and she was still in training. Most of her time was occupied developing her own magic in training and any remaining free time was split between furthering her education and sleeping.
It was less active in the El-Melloi clubroom without her, but Shirou refrained from going there as often as he had anyway. The entire dealing with Lord El-Melloi and his meddling with the Tournament had left a bitter taste in Shirou's mouth. Speaking of the Tournament, the fallout from claiming victory was about what he expected. Scowls, whispers, avoidance and pointing from the other students. Every so often he'd catch a mumbled "faker" or "cheater" comment from a bold few.
The only positive outcome to come of it was the large distance given to both Illya and Rin around the Tower. His close connection to them was almost as effective as his real presence.
Even this meagre positive came with its own negative. People avoiding Rin and Illya meant they'd have no enemies, but it also meant they couldn't make friends. They'd made acquaintances with a handful of other students in their class but they'd turned fearful of arousing Shirou's — The Son of the Magus Killer's — ire.
Thus far, falling under the tutelage of Master V had brought nothing but problems and it was likely to worsen as time went on. So long as Rin attended the Clock Tower, however, he was almost trapped, at least by social convention. Besides, even if he did renounce any attachment to Waver, Shirou imagined plans existed to make his life hell regardless.
Time passed, life moved on and for once things simmered to a mere dull roar.
Shirou and Rin upheld their portion of their deal with Annalliina. Ever the unstoppable, indefatigable force, the Tohsaka hardly took a break from her studies and only relented on two occasions: her delivery date and when summer break rolled around.
Despite the unexpected burden placed upon her, Rin managed to near finalizing three separate theorems. The first placed Shirou himself as a test subject in an effort to better ascertain whether a difference existed between a magi's existing, inherent resistance to external mana from an opposing magus and the reality marble's resistance to the very same mana. For once, Shirou understood most of the terminology and details being spoken. With his assistance, they successfully determined there was a difference. With enough effort, Rin was capable of hypnotizing him yet she was wholly unable to break or alter Unlimited Blade Works in any way whatsoever.
He'd been rightfully concerned regarding the danger of submitting such research but she assured him that — due to the obvious secrecy of reality marbles and their users — questions wouldn't be asked and her theorem would stand as a hypothesis until it could be proven or disproven. Something synonymous to a research paper that had yet to be peer reviewed.
The second is where he began to have issues. Not objectionable issues of course, but issues understanding the deeper concepts within. From what he could wrap his head around before he contracted a sharp headache and lost the plot entirely, it had something to do with utilizing The Second Magic itself as a weapon.
According to the Tohsaka, submission of one or the other had the high chance of promoting her to Cause. While only a single step up from the lowest, such improvement in a year from a comparatively young magus family was exceptional.
The third theorem was a joint project between Rin and Illya. Interested in her own physiology, Illya sought to develop homunculi as a field by turning the preconceived convention on its head by proposing the proliferation of human-homunculi hybrids, such as herself. After all, she was the undeniable pinnacle of homunculi as so claimed by the former Einzbern head, despite being a half-breed.
This power came about despite her father being a relatively feeble and incompetent magus of brief lineage. She'd suffered a great deal in her childhood and had her life expectancy cut short to achieve such heights in her original body but full homunculi hardly ever lived beyond ten years let alone twenty years to begin with.
Beyond research and scholarly events, the efforts of Lord El-Melloi the Second finally bore fruit. The Clock Tower, recognizing the Lord's efforts and growing increasingly aware of the number of powerful, prodigal students under his tutelage, promoted him to the rank of Fes. Rin explained that this rank, while technically higher than Cause, was something of an exception and was more of an honorary title for exceptional skills or abilities.
It confirmed all suspicions about the man held prior. Roping Illya, Lectra and Shirou under his banner had been deliberate and purposeful, with a goal of elevating his position within the Tower. Obviously, the higher he rose, the more power he'd have as a Lord, especially when he commanded a squad of exceptions, geniuses and prodigies. His reputation extended beyond the limits of the clubroom, too. The general population of the Clock Tower held Waver Velvet, Professor Charisma, Master V, Great Big Ben on a grand pedestal both due to the charisma from which he gained his moniker and his life story. A rising underdog tale that inspired and evoked compassion.
The Lord had a plan rooted far deeper than Shirou, Illya or even Rin could predict but all three agreed to be cautious around him.
Lectra, like Lord El-Melloi, found herself rising through the Tower's ranks. Aided by her magician status, she leapt over Cause and adopted the title of Pride along with the colour Green. At the ceremony, Illya explained the colour system was independent of the Tower's ranking system, used to identify magi of truly exceptional talent. Among the festivities, Shirou learned of two other notable magi who were gifted colors from the Tower:
Touko and Aoko Aozaki.
The former was given Red while the latter received Blue shortly afterwards. The mention was a fortunate event, as Shirou could ask questions regarding the Aozaki sisters to a number of magi present without arousing any suspicions.
Touko was, as he expected, a true genius when it came to magecraft. Specializing in runes, she ascended from Count, the lowest rank, to Grand, the highest rank, shortly after she turned twenty. Beyond developing the structure that even modern day runecraft utilized, she established a number of patents before unexpectedly abandoning the Clock Tower in its entirety after events people repeatedly called 'clashes of personality'. It was better personal information about Touko than the history of her sealing designations.
At twenty one, Touko abandoned the Clock Tower just as her sister, Aoko arrived. Excited to see the great things the younger Aozaki would accomplish, the Tower as a whole was relieved to also find Aoko's temperament much easier to manage than Touko's.
Unfortunately, Aoko was a horrid magus.
Entirely bereft of the talent for magecraft, she disappointed a great number of professors and Lords with her inability to grasp anything but the most basic fundamentals.
Simultaneously, however, she was claimed to be undefeatable in combat. As an anecdote from a senile magus went, a student amidst her peerage attempted to embarrass Aoko by using a gust of wind to lift the girl's skirt. Just before it struck, the gust was consumed by a collapsing bounded field and the perpetrator was blown off their feet by a bullet composed of raw mana. It had happened so fast, few were convinced she had done anything at all.
After a short disappointing few years amidst the Tower, Aoko also abandoned the route of the scholar but was encouraged to find her own stride amidst her private studies. As a gesture of good faith, the Tower offered her a spending account which she used every so often for large purchases of material components.
It was a lead Shirou could use to try and track her down, but he would need access to whatever ledger recorded the information. On it, he'd find where the supplies were being delivered. After all, finding Aoko was the second hardest part of his two-part plan.
Despite his efforts on that front, he came up empty each time. While Shirou did manage to recover an address from the ledger shipping supplies to Aoko, he quickly discarded the lead when it pointed him to the port in Nagasaki.
Beyond the familiar name, Shirou recognized it immediately. He'd departed to Hashima Island to track down Touko originally, the ship he chartered had departed from the Nagasaki port.
There was zero possibility that Aoko was hiding within a hundred miles of Touko, let alone in the nearest port city. That alone had almost confirmed for Shirou that Touko was somehow stealing supplies using her sister's name.
Outside of his own investigation into the missing magician, Shirou contracted the help of two information brokers to track Aoko down. The monthly fee they charged was exorbitant but Kiritsugu's book of contacts informed him that they were reputable and efficient. It dwindled the stockpile of funds left by the old man, but Shirou would find a way to recuperate.
Perhaps he could start by investigating this supposed wage Rin was paying for his bodyguard services.
In the end, despite outward appearances, he was doing his best not to renege on his commitment with Touko and become a science experiment by frequently informing her of his investigation.
Ten months would pass from the date of the kidnapping before life would grow to a fever pitch once again, arriving in the form of an innocuous letter in the first week of summer break.
"Who is it from?" Illya asked, staring at the blank envelope upon the table.
"Doesn't say and Octavia wasn't told either," Shirou surmised, covering his mouth with his hand. Illya nearly repeated her first question by asking who he might have thought it originated from. The fact that the correspondence was in the form of a letter was telling in and of itself. That alone eliminated a number of contacts he might have been expecting word from.
Rin proposed that it could have come from Annalliina.
"I doubt it. It's missing a wax seal and her family crest." The sender's desire to be anonymous was another clue. It placed the owner on the shadier side of morality or law. Investigators on the lookout for Aoko were likely to reach out via cellphone or in-person meetings. Enemies of either Kiritsugu or himself were more likely to air their grievances engraved on the side of a bullet. Any other source was a complete unknown which spelled trouble.
Either way, Shirou was concerned and hesitant, which is why he preferred looking at the envelope and hypothesizing instead of opening and discovering. The staring contest between man and paper persisted for a few silent seconds before Rin rolled her eyes and snatched the letter from the table.
Opening her hand palm upwards to her front, Shirou filled the empty space with a knife so she could extract the contents.
Reading the words over a moment, the Tohsaka produced an interesting hum. "From a dead friend," she noted ominously. Folding the letter back up and replacing it within the envelope, Rin slipped it within the waistband of her skirt before covering it entirely beneath her shirt. "We should go out to eat tonight, my treat." Despite being delivered with a bright smile, Shirou felt incredibly uneasy.
The dead friend was a mystery to him, but it was obvious the letter was too hot to read or speak aloud about within the Clock Tower. Agreeing, Illya produced a disappointed sound, lamenting over the wait so abruptly interposed between her and Shirou's paella.
Acquiescing after learning it would simply be delayed until tomorrow, the group departed without further fanfare as the evening began to a restaurant Rin had apparently chosen as soon as she'd offered to take them out. Walking twenty odd minutes past Hyde Park and east of Green park, they neared the prestigious Ritz hotel.
As much as he may have wanted to dine in such a fancy restaurant, they were all severely under dressed and there was no chance Rin could manage a reservation on such short notice.
Walking the streets, Rin led them along a couple of turns to the corner of a residential building. There, she walked boldly through the door to what Shirou could only conclude was the restaurant in question. Outside of the white marble, gray-streaked wall tiling and the two well-groomed topiary bushes on either side of the door, Shirou couldn't help but think the entrance was bland. Black criss-crossed iron over glass doors lead into a building named by blue neon lights attached to the sides of the overhead awning: "Mirabelle."
Holding the door open for Illya, Rin spoke with a receptionist who seemed surprised to see them.
Based on the existing clientele, Shirou could easily see why. The restaurant was packed, bustling and filled with well-dressed clientele dripping with the pompousness of having more money than sense. Even a cursory trace of the room exposed several bottles of wine and other alcohols that had been aged for forty years and beyond. The names were beyond him, but he imagined anything that old demanded a high price point to go alongside it.
A more definite display of quality was the proudly displayed Michelin star near the entranceway.
Amidst his examination of the room, he briefly heard Rin utter the phrase "private room." He wondered if they were moments away from being kicked out but found himself surprised when a waiter escorted them to a private room and asked if there was anything he could get for them to start.
"Yorkshire puddings to start and a red near six hundred, please." The order from Rin herself elicited a few bemused blinks from Shirou.
Commending the choice, the waiter seated the two ladies and distributed menus before leaving the trio on their own. Immediately, Shirou had to ask why she would spend "Six hundred pounds on a bottle of wine?"
"The better question is how she managed to get us a private room in a place like this," Illya commented, focusing on the larger picture.
"It's an occasion," the woman in question answered Shirou first. "And when you own the restaurant you're able to make exceptions."
Shirou furrowed his brow. "You own the restaurant?"
Rin nodded in agreement. "I needed a business to invest in, the previous owner was looking to sell and, well," she trailed on, "you could call it a safety net for if life happens to change."
Shirou tried to understand it for a moment, then came up with nothing. Thankfully, it was Illya who asked for the meaning.
Rin clasped her hands ahead of herself on the table. "I thought it would be a good idea to have a place Shirou could work in if he ever wanted to settle down or leave the Clock Tower. He's a busy body that loves to cook, so a restaurant just made sense."
"I'm not sure this would be a good fit," he admitted. "Not sure I'd be creative enough."
"That's just it," Rin began happily. "This isn't a contemporary restaurant that's trying to push boundaries or create trends. It's a simple one that serves classic English and French dishes!"
To confirm for himself, he had a look at the menu. "It's in French," he murmured, struggling to piece together the names.
"Something that can be changed," Rin surmised. "Though it adds character."
He recognized a handful of dishes, confirming the claim that the menu was simple. Without seeing the preparation, it appeared as if simple, quality ingredients were capable of reaching the height of cooking.
Piecing the menu together, their appetizer arrived and the waiter helped resolve any translation hiccups before taking their order and leaving once again.
Agreeing to discuss the contents of the letter after eating, they enjoyed the remaining two courses of a three course meal featuring Entrecôte Bordelaise; Bordeaux style steak, Carré d'Agneau à la Niçoise; rack of lamb from Nice, and duck breast in brandy sauce with truffles and mushrooms.
Dessert was light and refreshing, a perfect conclusion to a heavy entree. Poire bella Angevine, a sweet pear-based dessert accompanied by fruit jam and brandy and La Timbale Elysée, a wild creation of ice cream, nuts, more pears, sponge cake and an assortment of other flavours encased in a cage crafted of spun sugar.
A delectable meal, deserving of the high praise surrounding its award. Shirou had enjoyed quality food before, but the meal he just consumed was beyond even his level of culinary ability.
It wasn't simply magecraft that he had more to learn, it seemed.
Settling as they digested, Rin produced the letter from her waist and withdrew the contents once again. Using her finger, she inscribed symbols on the envelope itself before throwing the paper toward the door.
Striking and sticking to the surface, Shirou deduced she had constructed a bounded field to retain their privacy and prevent interruption. "Are we ready to discuss the letter or do we need more time?"
Personally, the meal was sitting quite heavy in his stomach, but he could see Illya stiffen and slide into her alternate, commanding personality. He'd feel embarrassed to hold everything up, so he asked Rin to proceed.
"There were too many eyes and ears in the Tower to risk talking about this there. I took a big enough risk just reading it myself since we never know who might be spying."
"I've been trying to work out who this dead friend of ours is," Illya admitted. "You already denied the Edelfelt family, which doesn't leave many possibilities."
"Marisbury Animusphere."
The stillness of the room lingered for far too long. With nothing positive nor negative to comment upon the revelation, awkward neutrality filled the space. Eventually, Shirou extended a hand, requesting the letter so he could read its contents.
Passing it over, Rin summarized for Illya while he read. "Marisbury is creating something of a secret police force called 'The Organization for the Preservation of Human Order, Finis Chaldea.'"
"Bit of a mouthful, no?" Illya asked.
"Chaldea," Shirou shortened, noting the moniker several times within the letter.
Rin nodded in the direction of Illya. "He wants you and I to join the organization with you as Head of Homunculi Development and myself as a researcher."
"I get to tag along as a bodyguard again," Shirou murmured.
"They plan on using homunculi? For what? I don't even know what their plans are."
Seemingly ignoring the comment, Rin continued. "You'd have carte blanche to do as you please and rebuild what the von Einzbern have lost, including the Third Magic."
Shirou didn't even need to look up from the letter to see the flash of passion flare behind Illya's eyes. He didn't blame her, promising the very thing her family sought for millenia and could only recreate as a paltry imitation war that conned its participants and directly sacrificed its most prized members was a lucrative prospect. "You still haven't explained what their plan is," Illya declared.
Shirou understood why. The letter described it after all, though he could hardly believe anything about it was even possible. "To eliminate threats to humanity, past, present and future."
Illya eyed him from the side, blinking a few times. "What does that even mean?"
"They plan to use servants in a modified Grail system to alter fate itself." The words spilled freely from Shirou's mouth as he compiled what he was reading. "Ironically, that's the same name they're using for this system, FATE, but it's having issues. They need you both for your experience since your families created and maintained one of the only functional servant-summoning systems."
"That's insane," Illya claimed without hesitation.
"Beyond insane," Shirou agreed. "Which is exactly why I believe them."
Illya looked at him as if he'd grown three heads. "You can't be serious. How do they even plan on changing the past?"
"Marisbury didn't seem like the lying type," Shirou admitted.
"Servants originate from the Throne of Heroes, a place that isn't bound to time. Perhaps they've discovered a way to use that feature for themselves." Rin's hypothesis was uncertain at best.
Illya blinked, shook her head and recoiled as if slapped. "If humanity was threatened in the past, wouldn't we all be dead right now?"
Rin and Shirou thought the question over but failed to produce an answer that seemed reasonable. "A wish made with the Grail could alter the past, who's to say that another magus or a group of magi couldn't accomplish something similar?" It was the best Shirou could think of, but he didn't really believe it. Perhaps it was as simple as being over prepared for any potential scenario.
"Marisbury went off the grid, right? I imagine we'd have to give up our studies at the Clock Tower." Illya rolled her eyes. "Assuming, of course, we wanted to chase after empty promises and the pursuit of humanity's safety."
"You say that as if you're not a part of humanity," Rin noted.
"We'd have to give up a little more than school," Shirou added as his reading reached the bottom. "We'd be living in Antarctica."
"Chase empty promises and live in the coldest, most remote place on Earth," Ilya amended with a flat tone.
Summarized so bluntly, it definitely appeared to be a foolish decision with an obvious answer. Yet, despite the glaring flaws even Shirou could see some benefits. Primarily, they'd be safe, protected and isolated from all but a handful of powerful magi. "There are obvious negatives," Rin began. "But nobody else could fund Von Einzbern homunculi research. Shirou's help has funded us so far, but with all our expenses, the payment for damages to the Clock Tower and this business, we've reached our limit."
"Can't I just make more gems?" Finished reading the letter, Shirou passed it toward Illya who began to pour over the nearly-too-perfect handwriting.
Rin furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure you understand how supply and demand works. If we flood the market, we'll only be shooting ourselves in the foot and angering every magus family with a focus on jewelcraft."
"I think we need to determine all of the pros and cons before making a decision," Illya redirected to drive the conversation forward. "This will affect all of us, so we need to reach a consensus on which path we'll take."
Rin and Shirou nodded in agreement with the latter adding, "The letter didn't have much urgency to it so we can take as much time as we need." Time worked in his favour. He'd need to deal with Aoko before vanishing to Antarctica, lest he feel the wrath of Touko.
Almost a year had passed since he took the woman's deal and he had made little progress. Aoko's capabilities, her location and how he'd actually kill her were still almost entirely unknown.
The fragments of knowledge he'd uncovered told him that the only likely path to success was by surprise, delivering the killing blow in one strike. Even then, there was a chance she was capable of reacting to any attack.
Then there was the matter of the Fifth Magic, Magic Blue. He couldn't find so much as a hint on what it was or what it was capable of. The bare basics of First Magic Lectra displayed were terrifying enough. He could only imagine what she'd be capable of after thirty years of training and experience like Aoko had. Making a move against such a terrifying unknown seemed a little too suicidal, so he wouldn't untill he felt learned more or Touko's impatience forced his hand.
After some more discussion the trio agreed to write back a letter of gratitude for the offer alongside a request for more time to decide and a statement that a follow-up letter would be sent once a conclusion was reached.
It was non-committal, but that matched their opinions at the time. Departing Rin's restaurant, Shirou used the travel time to think while details were fresh in his mind.
He couldn't be honest with Rin or Illya, but he wasn't too interested in being a part of Chaldea. He didn't stand to gain anything from the offer, but that wasn't his primary reason for being averse to the deal. After being around, dealing with and fighting servants first hand, the only thing he knew for certain was that they were more trouble than they could possibly be worth.
Caren's imprisonment at the hands of Berserker.
Rin's father, Tokiomi Tohsaka, and the gruesome torture perpetuated by his own servant.
Rin, Gray, Illya and himself nearly dying in a trap poised by the masterless Assassin, only for him to finish the job against Illya shortly after.
Three separate occasions, all from varied heroic spirits of differing classes. It wasn't a large sample size, but it gave him the impression that master and servant were just vacant titles barely supported by the existence of command seals.
He was expected to believe they could be controlled? That they could somehow be used to save humanity against an unknown force?
He didn't buy it.
Servants were people, not tools. People had their own aspirations, goals, personalities. Above all else, people could lie, deceive, and betray at will. He'd be a hypocrite to deny that Saber and Lancer had been invaluable assets to him in the War. While he relied on them heavily, he understood they could have destroyed his plans at any moment had they the mind to, had he stepped out of line.
By the time he reached the Clock Tower, he was able to make one conclusion at least: he needed to be as prepared for the future as possible. Gathering strength went beyond exercise, acquiring conceptual weapons or discovering new combat strategies. In fact, those methods were almost the most inefficient methods if based on time management alone.
Information and allies were among the fastest, most efficient ways to grow more powerful and he'd been given access to a wealth of both which he'd yet to access.
Back in their dorms, Shirou remained awake a little longer. From his desk, he grabbed a book on metallurgy and returned to the front desk in search of a name and location. The location led him to the quad within the center, to the clock tower for which the organization and building got its name.
On the ground floor, he met the man — a secretary — he'd been seeking, opened the metallurgy book to withdraw a slip of paper, slid the paper across the counter and stated he was, "Here to see Millieune Carillon, Bazett McRemitz sent me."
There was definitely an odd part of this chapter that I found extremely difficult to write. I told Beloved Beta Talndir to see if he could find it without telling him what it was, but he never pointed anything out to me, so I consider that a sign that I didn't screw it up and the plot still seems steadily consistent and up to my usual level.
Yes, we do have another OC joining the list of characters, don't expect the enigmatic Raven to make a reoccurance, but you never know, now do you?
Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Remember to follow, favourite and leave a review thanking Talndir for beta-ing!
