Ch. 98 - Questions
"Hey Ren, I wanted to talk to you about Jing Ke- no, no…"
"You know, I never got to hear about your fight with Romulus and Lev! You gotta tell me all about- too roundabout."
"So how do you deal with someone dying on you- why did I even consider that…?"
Ritsuka exasperatedly crossed out another line before ripping the page out of her notebook, wadding it up, and tossing it into the nearby wastebasket. Closing her eyes, she slowly massaged them through her eyelids as she tried to focus again. The notebook had a bunch of lines written down she was rehearsing, trying to properly flow into a conversation that would deal with her situation. And she had already scratched out about… actually, no. If she counted, she'd just get an even bigger headache.
She looked back up at her reflection in the mirror. Even at a glance it was clear she had seen better days, with her pale expression and bags underneath her bloodshot eyes. Sleep had been somewhat hard to come by lately. When she wasn't plagued by nightmares, she simply kept waking up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep. And there was only so much hot chocolate she could drink before it tasted like crap. Although she never really went for makeup, she wished she had some now if only to cover up how tired she looked.
Trying to talk to Ren was proving to be tricky. He had been running around everywhere taking care of business – checking in with Servants, working out his magecraft, cooking, and more. How he managed to do it, she didn't even try to guess. Still, he didn't need yet another thing on his plate, least of all what she was dealing with. Better to do what she could to downplay it, get some advice, then get out of his hair. But how the hell could she properly go about this? Talking about a friend dying on you is a bit different than talking about a movie that just came out.
Wait, like talking about a movie… picking up her pen, she lifted it up, hesitated for a second, then began writing a new beginning line to her notebook. It was about as believable as the 'I have this one friend' introduction admittedly, but maybe he'd pick up the clue and talk through that lens instead. It'd be a decent way of at least somewhat cushioning the impact of the conversation and let her get in and out without too much trouble…
Ritsuka stared at what she wrote, then sighed exasperatedly. Who was she kidding – he'd probably see through the bullshit immediately.
Looking back up at the mirror, she tried her best to smile. It looked strained – and felt like it too. The corners of her mouth already ached and trembled from the effort. She dropped it with a tired sigh before using her fingers to push up the corners, forcing herself to smile. It had been a while since she had last done this – was it when she was eleven or so? She had spent countless hours in the bathroom practicing her smile and expressions to make them seem as natural and bright as possible. She remembered watching her more outgoing peers, noting their mannerisms and how they talked to people, and practiced in private until her throat went hoarse.
And yet, despite everything, nothing worked. Ritsuka watched as her peers got adopted one by one. Even the quieter, shyer ones or the troublemakers got adopted out while she remained behind. She never begrudged them; in fact, she was always happy they got a new family, and even tried to keep in contact. Yet even they slowly talked less and less with her, with no small number eventually just disappearing. She wasn't too shocked – they had their new family and new friends, after all. And she was… well, nobody special.
She let out another arid sigh before shoving such thoughts aside as she continued focusing on preparing her speech and smile. This wasn't the time to play the world's smallest violin for herself. Humanity was at stake, and she could at the very least not drag everyone else down with her. Ren without a doubt was the cornerstone and central figure here – like hell she would be that one fatal distraction that would get him killed.
Ritsuka wondered if Mash had talked to Ren already. She tried downplaying what had happened in her last mission, but it was clear the girl was worried for her. Already she felt lousy about that – Mash had enough to deal with right now, and here she was offloading more troubles on her. Sure, she did ask, but that was no excuse. Mash deserved so much better, and she certainly didn't miss how the Shielder looked at Ren.
Turning around, she looked over at one of the posters still hanging on her wall, where Ren in his Phantom Thief outfit posed. Despite everything, Ritsuka smiled to herself. Mashumallow had good taste without a doubt.
Thirty minutes later, she was marching down Chaldea's halls. Whenever someone passed by, she greeted them with a grin and a quick good morning – easily done when she wasn't thinking too hard about it. Habits tended to be like that. If they asked if she was alright, she just brushed them off with a simple excuse that she hadn't slept well. That was enough to satisfy most peoples' curiosity. She did ask for Ren, however, and they invariably told her he was in the cafeteria. And so, her destination was set.
Before long, the redhead was standing beside the large double doors of the cafeteria. She had spent so long rehearsing that she had just about missed out on breakfast – and her stomach's grumbling made her painfully aware of the fact. Maybe she should've at least grabbed an early morning snack or something first before doing this, but it was too late now. Taking a deep breath, she forced her nerves down and pushed into the cafeteria room.
As expected, the place smelled heavenly with spices, mixed with the stronger scent of coffee. Ren was currently on the coffee machines with his back turned to the entrance. Ritsuka took a quick glance around. Only a few of the staff here and no Servants, and said staff were polishing off their own plates and cups. Good – at least she had some relative privacy to work with here. Less chance of making things incredibly awkward or being a pain.
Walking through, she sat down at the counter. "Morning!" she called out cheerfully. "Guess I missed breakfast, huh?"
Ren glanced over and smiled. "You did," he confirmed. "But it's fine – I saved some curry for you and making some fresh coffee right now. Don't think you'd ever miss it if you could."
Ritsuka blinked in surprise, then chuckled ruefully. "Guilty as charged," she admitted, putting her hands in the air. All the while her heart sank deeper – even after everything, he still had more than enough forethought to keep an eye out for her. How long was she going to drag Ren, leader of the Phantom Thieves and their best chance at saving the world, down? She needed to be decisive about this.
As Ren plated the rice and curry, her foot tapped anxiously against the chair. She was going through all the feasible lines in her head and already they were going from 'not so bad' ideas to horrible ones. She was faintly aware of some of the staff leaving, their footsteps receding behind her as the robots rolled in to collect their dirty dishes. Would it be enough privacy for them to work with? It was too soon to say. For now, she decided to time it while she was eating, or right after.
The Phantom Thief placed a plate of curry and a mug of coffee in front of her. "And here you are," he announced.
She was about to thank him when she noticed him turning around and grabbing another plate and mug for himself. "Did you not have breakfast either?" Ritsuka asked in surprise.
"Breakfast got a lot busier than I expected," Ren replied with a grin. "Seems a lot of people missed my curry and coffee – I barely had any time to breathe, let alone eat, even with Archer helping out."
Ritsuka chuckled. "I can see why," she agreed as she picked up a spoonful of curry before popping it in her mouth. The savory, rich spices spread on her tongue delectably – infinitely better than the instant curry they had back that night in the Roman singularity. If everyone thought that curry was tasty, then they would practically cry with joy if they tried this one. Astolfo would probably even try to feed some to his hippogriff. Now that would've been a sight to see.
Immediately, the food turned to ashes in her mouth and the curry lost all taste. She swallowed with some difficulty before washing it down with some bland coffee. Just once, she would like to eat or drink something without some intrusive thought making everything taste like crap. But then, given it was her fault, maybe it was some sort of karmic punishment. Nevertheless, she continued eating – not eating would only make her feel worse and probably get the wrong kind of attention from Ren.
The redhead looked up in curiosity as Ren walked out of the kitchen and instead simply sat down next to her before digging in. Huh. He normally ate across from them on the counter for easier access to the kitchen. Then again, given how the cafeteria had emptied out, it was likely he didn't need to anymore. Still, she felt her heart hammering against her chest as she continued eating. She thought she was prepared – and she wanted to smack herself for it.
"How is it?" Ren asked, glancing over.
Ritsuka blinked in surprise at the question, then swallowed her current mouthful. "Great as always," she chirped. "God, I missed this curry. The instant stuff we had back in the Roman singularity was decent enough with what he had, sure, but nothing can beat this. Especially with the coffee. I missed this coffee – none of the instant crap we had as field rations. Blegh. You've spoiled us permanently, Ren. I'm holding you accountable for that."
The Phantom Thief grinned. "It seems I've inflicted so many people with the sin of gluttony," he dramatically stated. "Oh, what a devil I am! But at least the damage is contained for now – until humanity is restored once more, that is!"
The corny lines caused Ritsuka to laugh, feeling a small weight leave her shoulders as she did so. "Yeah, second to lust," she snarked back with a wry grin. "I heard you got a kiss from a certain Roman emperor. While I should've expected it from a Phantom Thief like you, I gotta say: Dang. You certainly knocked it out of the park."
Ren chuckled at that. "What can I say, I surprise myself with my charm sometimes," he replied with a smirk and an overly smug flourish of his hair. That got another laugh from Ritsuka. Despite her nervousness earlier, she was already feeling a bit better – though the trepidation still sat in her gut like a rock.
They ate for a bit in silence, enjoying the food. "Have you been sleeping well?" Ren asked suddenly, glancing over at her.
Ritsuka considered her answer for a moment, then sighed. "Nah, not really," she replied earnestly. "I spent too much time watching this movie that caught my eye – forgot the title of it. There was a sacrifice in the climax that I'm not happy with though." That was an utter lie, but Ren didn't have to know that. So long as she acted as she always did and forced her heart to stop beating a mile a minute, she should be fine. Probably.
Ren's expression was neutral as he tilted his head. "And why's that?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
The redhead sighed, feigning as much exasperation as she could. "The captain made a dumb call," she stated bluntly. "There was a switch they could've just flipped and closed off the doors to the airlock, locking the alien away. He just had to reach over and press it. But noooo, the guy had to freaking panic and lose a good character in the process! I mean come on, it was an absolutely crappy move and anyone could see that! If he didn't panic for, like, three damn seconds then that guy would've been just fine and-"
She reached up to wipe the tears starting to form. "Ugh, sorry," she grumbled. "I liked that character and it was just… a dumb way to go out, you know? Who writes this tripe nowadays?"
Ritsuka looked over and saw Ren staring at her. His expression was impassive, giving no indication of what he was thinking. Those grey eyes felt like they were staring straight through her. They seemed to be understanding – and for a reason she was trying very hard to avoid. Unable to take it, she turned away, forcing herself to choke down another mouthful of curry. Maybe she was overthinking it again and she had managed to fool him for a little bit.
Ren turned away, took another bite of curry, and chewed pensively. "That does suck," he agreed. "Especially if it could be that easily resolved. Was the button within reach of the captain, by chance? Like, just reach over and press it or…?"
Ritsuka racked her brain for a bit to try and match her circumstances with the metaphor. "It's not the easiest reach, no," she admitted. "But it could've been prepped earlier or the captain could've been closer to it! Or-or maybe even go on the PA system and yelled… something! He literally could've done anything besides panicking!"
The Phantom Thief looked thoughtful. "Hm," he hummed thoughtfully. "What was the captain doing at the time anyway?"
The redhead blinked in surprise. "Er, he was…" she stammered, trying to think of a fitting metaphor. "Watching the other crew members in the surveillance room. You know, keeping track of their positions, what they're doing, seeing if there's, uh, other aliens or what the main one is doing. Stuff like that." Close enough – she did have a relatively decent view of the entire battle as well as most of the Servants during that battle. She wished she had a better awareness of everything like she was watching through multiple cameras, but that was too much to ask from anyone.
"Huh, that's a good amount of responsibility," Ren noted thoughtfully. He noticed Ritsuka flinching at the comment but decided to say nothing about it. "And what'd you think of the captain overall?"
Ritsuka balled her hands into fists underneath the counter. "He's, uh…" she stammered, taking another sip of the coffee as she scrambled to think of something reasonable to say. "He's… okay, I guess? He just felt like someone way too in over his head and scrambling about. The first mate is the real star of the show if you ask me – he's the one getting stuff done. So were all the other crewmates to be honest. They all had a lot of skills and experience, and it showed. The captain was… was a newbie. I dunno why they assigned him to that role, especially with the first mate as busy as he was. I… I guess when you put it that way, it made sense for… for the captain to screw up – and cost the life of a crewmate in the process."
She couldn't stop herself now. Tears were once more starting to leak out of her eyes. "It was a stupid call," she snapped. "That captain sh-shouldn't have been a captain in the first place – or even on the damn ship! H-he should've been sent back t-to the academy or something, or-or court-martialed! Yeah, the crew won in the end, but no thanks to him! If I hadn't made th-that call, then he'd still… he'd would've…!"
Ren quietly stared and waited at Ritsuka as the girl reached up to wipe her eyes, trying to get her emotions under control. "Being a captain isn't easy," he murmured quietly as he sipped his coffee. "Lots of factors to keep track of and people to manage. The crew relies on the captain to get them through safely, and in turn the captain relies on the crew to get things done and succeed. It's a heavy burden. And especially when they've a bird's eye view so they can see everything – including what they did wrong. Especially what they did wrong."
Ritsuka quietly ate another spoonful of curry. She couldn't even taste it anymore, but it occupied her enough to calm down a bit more. "Th-there's a lot of people that don't deserve to be a captain," she muttered.
The Phantom Thief nodded. "True," he agreed. "Though sometimes, I think it's a little too quick to judge. You said this captain's a newbie, right?"
The redhead blinked. "Yeah…?" she replied, wondering where he was going with this.
"Then it's to be expected," Ren said. "Nobody is infallible or perfect – everyone makes mistakes. And yes, even when it's a position where lives are on the line. The cost is a lot greater, yes, but… well, it's inevitable. The best anyone can do whenever something like that happens is to learn and improve. And even then, someone experienced and learned can screw up… and lose people in the process. That's how battles go."
"… Like with Jing Ke?" Ritsuka asked quietly.
Ren sighed. "It was a gamble," he murmured sadly, staring into his mug. "Jing Ke had an idea and just needed an opening. I worked with her and provided her with one – and she still got hurt anyway. She wasn't going to make it. I asked if she wanted me to try and heal her. I thought I had something that might bring her back."
It took all of Ritsuka's might to not smile bitterly. Of course, he had a method to heal a Servant back from mortal injury. She should've expected it. "So… she didn't want it?" she asked quietly.
The Phantom Thief shook his head. "She didn't," he confirmed. "But even if I healed her, that didn't change the fact that I got her killed in the first place. That may have been what she wanted – and how she wanted to go out – but it doesn't make it sting any less. It's a pretty bittersweet feeling, if I had to put it."
Ritsuka gulped quietly. It would've been easy to deflect any responsibility to Jing Ke, but Ren believed he had messed up as well. And she could understand what he meant: healing them doesn't remove the mistake in the first place. She remembered burning as much of her mana as possible trying to use healing magecraft on Astolfo, trying to correct her mistake - and failed miserably.
"But even then, life goes on," he continued with a shrug, his expression wistful and pensive. "Everyone bears their mistakes with them – you, me, Morgana, our Servants. All we can do is we learn from them and be better for the sake of everyone who comes after, including ourselves. Either that or be stuck in a rut, but that's why we have people to push us out of them."
As Ren got up and picked up his empty plate and mug, Ritsuka considered. She wasn't sure if that was what she wanted to hear, but at the very least it was probably what she needed to hear. Moping about Astolfo for this long wasn't productive or helpful for anyone. Hell, she could hear Astolfo in her mind complaining about how long she had been in a funk about this. If she really wanted to honor what he did, then it was like Ren said: She had to be better.
"Out of curiosity," Ren asked, catching Ritsuka's attention once more. "How does that movie end? Was it a happy ending at least?"
The redhead blinked in surprise. "Er, about as happy as could be," she quickly replied before even considering it. "The alien was dealt with and the other crew survived, if traumatized." She quietly pondered. While reassured, she couldn't help but feel lost. "So… what do think I shou- er, the captain should do now?" she asked.
The Phantom Thief glanced over, then looked up as he pondered. "I'd say the captain should do what his job needs him to do:" he answered. "Look at the bigger picture. Where to go, how to get there, what kind of obstacles to expect and plans to ford around them, things like that. After all, even if his first mate is supposedly incredibly competent, he can only manage the crew and more local conditions after all."
That… wasn't the answer she expected in the slightest. "Wait, what do you mean by that?" she asked.
Ren paused, then placed the plates back on the counter. It was going to be a slightly long story. "When the Phantom Thieves were first formed," he began. "We honestly didn't have any idea what we were doing. All we knew was that we wanted to take down those abusing their authority and change their hearts… and that was about as far as we got. Other than that, everything else was a gigantic question mark. We were really just making it up on the fly."
Ritsuka blinked multiple times. "You were… what?" she stammered. "With everything you guys pulled off? Unless you guys were the luckiest bunch of people on the planet, that seems a bit unlikely."
The Phantom Thief laughed. "In a way, you're right," he agreed wholeheartedly. "We were the luckiest people on the planet, because we soon had two more people join us: Makoto and Futaba. Makoto was the brains of many of our operations – she took any intel we collected, be it maps, enemies, or our targets, and compiled a lot of our plans. She also made sure we stayed on top of our schoolwork and other aspects as well; it wouldn't exactly do for the Phantom Thieves to flunk school either."
"She sounded like your mom," the redhead remarked.
"She was the student council president," Ren replied. "So… yeah, close enough." They both shared a small laugh at the joke. "As for Futaba, she was a complete genius when it came to computers. Hacking, info gathering, data mining – you name it, she's got it. She was our navigator whenever we went on our heists; she never directly took the field with us, but she was always in the wings, providing intel about the area, any traps, enemies, and of course, powering us up by hacking into the Metaverse itself."
Ritsuka's mouth dropped slightly open. "I'm sorry, she… what?" she stuttered in utter shock.
"Exactly what I said," the Phantom Thief confirmed with a grin. "Her navigational abilities made sure we didn't get in over our heads or ambushed. Did she directly fight with us? No. But without her, we would've failed probably a hundred times over – and I probably wouldn't even be here right now. I'm great at plunging right into the fray and directing Servants in a fight, but that also means someone needs to stay back and keep an eye on everything else."
The redhead gulped. "But…" she whispered. "I'm not like them. I-I can't hack or power you guys up. O-or come up with strategies that, you know, actually work. I'm just… well me."
Ren nodded. "Yes, you are," he agreed. "You're Ritsuka Fujimaru, the person who beat Caesar in Gaul – one of the most prolific emperors of the Roman Empire. Yes, he likely was trying to lose, but it was already clear that he was at the very edge of winning anyway, yet you were the one who managed to secure victory. And you're also the person who masterminded the plan for the URE capital with honestly miraculously few casualties. Yes, we lost two Servants, but we also kept Nero and the Roman army safe and sound, ready to fight another day. I can do a lot, Ritsu, but that? I don't think I could've done any better. Those were your victories, without a doubt. No more, and definitely no less."
Ritsuka could only look down, wrestling with what he said. It was all true, yet everything within her was trying to find objections to it. Before she could make up her mind, a motion drew her attention – and her eyes widened as Ren wrapped his arms around her. "You did great, Ritsuka," he murmured softly. "And you're gonna do even better. Everyone believes in you – including me." He smirked slightly. "After all, you just had your maiden voyage, captain. There's many more to go after."
The hug surprised the redhead. When was the last time she got an unprompted hug? She couldn't even remember anymore. It must have been years ago at this point, before her closest friends got adopted. She pretty much had to request hugs all the time, even making up the stupidest of reasons for them – and thanks to her constant rehearsals, they worked. But having a hug like this was just completely different for reasons she couldn't find the words for.
Still, that last line was so cheesy and forced that despite everything, Ritsuka couldn't help but chuckle. His words were comforting to hear, and she felt her own heart lighten a bit. "You are such a dork, Ren," she murmured with a smile as she hugged back, tears streaming from her eyes. His hug was tight and warm. If there was a physical definition of 'safety', this was it. She truly didn't want to let go.
"An astute observation, captain," Ren remarked with a grin, causing Ritsuka to chuckle again. First things first – once he let go, she polished off her curry and coffee before talking with Ren to the kitchen to wash them. Next time, she would have to come earlier so she could have seconds or perhaps thirds.
After all, they were absolutely delicious.
Just as a king had their castle and a general their fortress, so too did a magus have their workshop. Though more limited in scale, their domain was also utterly absolute. It was a place where they conducted research, consolidated their resources, performed experiments, and created wondrous items both mundane and fantastical. A treasure trove of knowledge and materials alike, it was permeated with the mysteries of the owner and armed with myriad defenses to keep out any unwanted intruders. So it was with Da Vinci, who kept her inventions and projects under lock and key, only to be shared with trusted individuals – and so it was with Medea, who showed her work to no one.
Warm, orange light glinted off the Witch's light-blue hair as she pored over the notes of her most recent project. It had been child's play converting her bedroom into a workshop for her own use: A couple bounded fields, a few illusion spells, and some alteration to the furniture to make it suitable for her own use. Whatever tools she needed, she could simply create as necessary. Such a thing was easily within her abilities.
The room was now considerably different from its initial appearance: It was far bigger than it seemed, enclosed securely with stone and marble. Tables with stacks of papers and notes as well as various catalysts and items sat awaiting her attention as shelves filled with reagents, records, and tomes lined the walls. At the center of the room was a magic circle that glowed with arcane power, ready for whatever mystery she needed to enact. The room was lit up with glowing, orange crystals, giving off a dim yet usable lighting.
She hadn't made the acquaintance of her fellow Servants or her Masters yet, but she was in no rush to. The other Servants didn't trust her, which was understandable. The King of Knights was here as well. Even in her anger her beauty was almost blinding, but Medea knew well enough that there was no love lost between them. They may be allies here but only begrudgingly. They could work together so long as there were no provocations, but that was the extent of it.
As for her Masters, the redheaded girl and that catlike being were mildly intriguing. They were only children at most tossed straight into a war. As cold as she might be, even she was unamused by the circumstances. As their Servant, she would have to keep an eye out for them and see to their safety. So long as they didn't prove utterly inhuman like that magus that summoned her in the Fifth War, then she would do her utmost to bring them victory.
But that young man – Ren Amamiya, was it? She would keep her distance. She didn't need yet another person who would exploit her and any others for all their worth, then toss her away like so much trash once she proved to be expendable. If he proved to be such a man, then she would take matters into her own hands. For now, she would observe. Perhaps he would be better than Jason, perhaps worse. Only time would tell.
The panel lit up and rang, catching Medea's attention. She hadn't extended any of her bounded fields outside of her room for the sake of politeness and security or she would immediately know who was outside. Thus, she kept the contraption Chaldea used to see to guests. She slipped her hood back over her head, concealing her face in shadow. With a wave of her hand, her workshop shimmered then took on the guise of a standard bedroom once more. It was nothing more than an illusion spell, but it more often than not served her well.
Walking over, she tapped on the panel – and the display showed an empty hallway. She frowned in consternation, wondering if it was some sort of prank, before the large head of Morgana popped up from below and vanished just as quickly.
"Medea!" he called out as kept trying to jump into view. "Wanted to – check with you – about something! Thought – you might – know – something we – have!"
The Caster blinked in surprise. She was being requested for assistance this early? Her curiosity was piqued though hopefully it wasn't anything troublesome. As for the ridiculous sight of Morgana constantly hopping up and down… she decided to ignore it for now. She had seen many stranger things in her lifetime. A smaller being hopping about to catch her attention like that was hardly worth noting.
"I shall assist how I can," she replied. With that, she turned off the panel and opened the door. Stepping out, she closed it behind her. Illusion spell or not, she wasn't about to let anyone so much as peer into her room without her permission. "How may I help you, Master?" she inquired as she looked down at Morgana.
Morgana looked up at the Caster with a frown. "That was quick," he noted. "Were you keeping an eye out for intruders already? You seem to move awfully fast after just getting here."
The questions caught Medea slightly off guard, then she inwardly smiled bitterly. So, it seemed at least one of her Masters didn't trust her in the slightest and made no effort to disguise it. She could understand that, especially given the Lancer's warning. If anything, it was rather refreshing: Too often had she dealt with two-faced snakes that praised her in the open while plotting a dagger in her back. At least with this catlike Master, what she saw was what she got.
Still, her composure didn't slip in the slightest. "I was merely unoccupied at the time when you called," she answered calmly. "Now, I believe you had something that required my attention?"
The catlike frowned a bit more deeply, then nodded. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small cloth bag. "We found this in the last singularity," he explained as Medea leaned down to take it from his paws. "It was locked up in a chest like it was some sort of treasure. We also encountered a chimera there though we have no clue whether it was there to actually guard the chest or we were just really unlucky. Either way, it feels kinda weird for people to just stuff this in a chest on a deserted island, so I decided to keep it with me just in case."
The Caster weighed the bag carefully in her hand. "And may I ask why you thought to bring it to me?" she inquired, slowly opening the bag.
The catlike being shrugged. "We found it on one of the islands of the Mediterranean," he answered. "And as a Greek Caster, you probably would have more knowledge of local flora than most. I tried asking Medusa, but she had no clue what it was. I'm just hoping it's something worthwhile – she got hurt by that chimera when we tried to retrieve it."
Medea froze. "Medusa?" she asked. "She's here as well?"
The reaction caught Morgana by surprise. "Er, yeah, she is," he replied, slightly nonplussed. "She's been really helpful with our work so we're glad to have her. Do you have personal history with her as well?" Maybe he needed to check in with Medusa about Medea as well. The more he knew about her, the better prepared he would be.
The Witch was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. "Not personal history, no," she murmured as she looked into the bag. Medusa and her never encountered one another during the Grail War, though they were both aware of one another. In a way, the two of them were peers: Greek Servants that had a history of being toyed with by the gods. Athena with Medusa, and Aphrodite with herself. There was also Heracles as Berserker as well. She was thankful she never encountered him; it would have likely taken all her resources then to oppose him and even then, it might not have been enough.
Discarding the thought, she gently plucked out a seed from within the sack. The seed looked familiar to her, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Whispering an aria in a tongue now unspeakable and unlearnable by modern humanity, she grasped the structure of the seed. She also checked for traps, just in case – it couldn't hurt to be careful, considering the circumstances her Master found these. "Curious," she murmured. "Very curious."
The catlike being's ears perked up. "You got something?" he asked.
Medea nodded. "These are seeds of a plant native to my land: Silphium," she explained. "They were utilized for many purposes: Seasoning, perfume, and as medicine. This particular strain is rather unique as well – as it comes from the Age of the Gods, its effects are considerably more pronounced. It seems it was also bred to concentrate its qualities, rendering it surprisingly potent. This is indeed quite the find, Master."
Morgana blinked multiple times at the news. "So… these seeds are actually a treasure," he summed it up before sighing in relief. "That's great to hear. Honestly, I'd be even angrier if Medusa got hurt for some garden-variety seeds."
The Caster noted Morgana's priority. "You were concerned more about the welfare of your Servant?" she questioned. "I would argue that seeds of this quality are worth the trade of one Servant compared to the benefits you would reap if these were cultivated properly. Our lives are considerably more ephemeral after all, especially in the face of such a prize."
That caused Morgana to bristle. "That's never gonna happen," he snapped, glaring up at the Witch. "Yeah, these may be miracle seeds, but no treasure is worth easily tossing away the life of a trusted comrade and friend! Not if we have anything to say about it! Honestly, you guys value your lives way too lightly! I'm not gonna let you guys die if I can help it, and neither will anyone else here!"
Medea could only stare down at Morgana silently, her face impassive. Servants were nothing more than familiars. Incredibly powerful ones but familiars nevertheless, made to serve a purpose and no more. That was the mindset most magi had about them. To see someone arguing so passionately and genuinely against that – especially when they had such a prize right in front of them – was certainly a change. Some would argue it was foolish. Others would argue that it made them kind. As for which camp the Caster fell in… she wasn't sure.
'The Masters are good kids – they'll treat you right.'
Cu Chulainn's words echoed in her mind. Still, everything Morgana said so far was only words. Jason spoke much and promised even more, yet in the end he had taken everything from her. "I see," she murmured. "If that's your priority, then I shall keep that in mind." She dropped the seed back in the sack and moved to hand them back to Morgana.
Morgana glanced up at the sack, then back at the Caster. "Actually," he said. "Do you think you'll be able to grow and cultivate these seeds?"
The Caster blinked in surprise. She went over the conditions to properly grow them in her mind. "I will have to consult with some of my notes, but it should be possible," she slowly replied. "Do you wish for me to try?"
The catlike being nodded. "If you could," he confirmed. "It's better than having it sit around and collecting dust. We might be able to make something out of it – either as medicine or as something Ren could use for food. Either way, it'll at least make that little trip worth it."
Medea was quiet for a moment as she stared at the bag of seeds. "You would trust me with these seeds?" she asked quietly. "I have told you that these are quite the treasure, and you are aware of Lancer's warning about me. For all you know, I could be lying to you or perhaps could use them for my own ends. I trust you are aware of this, Master. With that in mind, do you still wish to give me these seeds?"
Morgana blinked in surprise at the inquiry. He was being tested here, to see what his intentions were and if he was truly that naïve. Plus, she did have a point: With what Cu had said earlier, he would be foolish to trust such a thing to her. However…
"You answered our summoning because you agreed with our goal here," Morgana answered bluntly. "To help save humanity. Cu did say you may be scheming something and he may be right. However, I learned a lot from people around me, especially from Ren. And sometimes, in order to foster trust, you have to show trust first. This is my way of showing that to you, Medea. Do you have any problems with that?"
Trust… That was a word with no small number of connotations for her. It wasn't something to bandy about lightly, not for her. Nor, as she looked in Morgana's determined gaze, for her Master either. These seeds were a form of contract between them: He would trust her with such a valuable resource, and she in turn wouldn't abuse it for her own ends. It was certainly a curious start to their partnership, but one that intrigued her. At the very least, she would see it through.
"Very well, Master," she agreed, closing her hands around the small bag. "I shall respond to your trust and will inform you of the results should they bear fruit. They should be promising."
The catlike being nodded, his posture relaxing slightly. "I look forward to it," he agreed. "If that's the case, then I'll leave you to it. Also, lunch is about an hour away. You haven't tried Ren's curry and coffee yet either, right? You gotta try them, no ifs, ands, or buts – and especially no excuse that Servants don't need sustenance. I don't wanna hear it! You're eating with everyone else and that's that!"
The sudden sharpness of Morgana's tone caught the Caster off guard. "Of course, Master," she replied, slightly nonplussed.
Morgana smiled and nodded. "Good," he replied, satisfied. "In that case, I'll see you later, Medea!" With that, he walked off, leaving the Caster mildly confused as she quietly stepped back into her room. The illusion spell vanished once the door closed, revealing her workshop once more. She looked down at the bag of seeds in her hand… and quietly chuckled.
It seemed she had at least one rather unique Master. It seems they would get along just fine.
"How long am I going to have to wait?! I think I have been patient for more than a reasonable amount of time, but this is getting to be my limit!"
"I believe your steak is more than ready at this point. Fiddling with it on your plate won't make it any better."
"That's not what I'm talking about!"
Elizabeth glared at Archer from her seat across the counter. In front of her was a steak, cooked very rare according to her specifications with salad, as well as a glass of wine. Aside from the usual robotic assistants, they were alone in the cafeteria. "Puppy has promised he'd be my manager!" she whined. "But ever since he came back from that Roman singularity, he's been running everywhere else and not fulfilling my promise! I can barely even get a word in before he's dashed off someplace else!"
"It would seem our Master has more pressing obligations," the red-mantled hero noted, barely able to keep the snark out of his voice. He had been on kitchen duty when Elizabeth stormed in for food, demanding something to sate her appetite and calm her down. And apparently, that involved a well-cooked steak and wine. Admittedly he wasn't used to cooking one so rare the thing practically bled every time the idol petulantly stabbed it with her fork but so far, his cooking had not been one of her complaints.
Unfortunately, it also meant he couldn't easily escape.
The Lancer glared up at Archer. "And what would be more pressing than fulfilling a promise to me?!" she screeched. "I am an upcoming idol! If I let myself sit for too long, I'll stagnate! I need something new, something fresh! Something to really make everything I am shine like a diamond! And he's! Not! Helping!" She cut a chunk of the steak out and shoved it into her mouth angrily, silently glaring at the meat like it was responsible for all the evils in the world.
"How is it?" Archer asked in a deadpan tone.
Elizabeth finished with her mouthful first before gently wiping away her mouth with a napkin. "It's delicious, Archer, thank you," she quickly complimented. She hadn't forgotten her manners as a countess despite everything. "Anyway, he even had the temerity to kiss up to that emperor! A mere emperor, instead of an idol! An emperor's influence only covers their empire. An idol can cover the entire world! Or rather, it will! And yet he doesn't see that!"
"Who would you even sing to right now anyway?" the red-mantled hero asked, crossing his arms and frowning. "I'm not sure if you're aware but Chaldea doesn't have the biggest audience right now, nor can we send any broadcasts out. There's really nothing conducive to your idol activities at the moment, except maybe the singularities – and I'm not sure you'll find a receptive audience there."
The would-be idol scoffed disdainfully. "That shows what you know, Archer," she shot back. "So long as there is an audience, an idol is always an idol. And even without an audience, there is much to be done: Songs to create and practice, dances to memorize and rehearse, venues to scout out and secure. And that's not including any personal projects or interests I would wish to get into as well! There may not be much of an audience here, but there is still so much I have to do! But that's not enough – I need to take things to the next level! Ugh, he's not even cute enough to warrant being a puppy anymore! He's… he's… a raven!"
Archer could only sigh inwardly as he kept working on his escape plan – until the cafeteria doors opening caught his attention. Joan walked in, looking as surly as she always did. Guess the Roman singularity and the talk she had with Ren didn't exactly improve her mood. Or she was simply like this all the time. He was more inclined to believe the latter at this point. "Welcome back," he greeted as Elizabeth glanced over to see who he was talking to. "The usual?"
Joan looked up at Archer, then nodded. "Yeah, that'd be good," she sighed before sitting at the counter a chair away from Elizabeth.
The former countess blinked owlishly. "The usual?" she asked. She tried to imagine what someone as dark and broody as Joan would eat. Completely burnt steak with a side of… ash? Well, no, that'd be too much, but she didn't know a huge number of 'dark' foods. Actually, she really couldn't guess what Joan's diet would even be. What does someone like her eat anyway?
Glancing up, Joan shot a half-hearted scowl. "Not your business," she growled before turning away.
"Oatmeal with some bread and cheese," Archer replied for her without missing a beat. "As well as some milk if she's feeling particularly adventurous. She hasn't varied her orders much save for maybe Ren's curry on the occasional blue moon."
Joan's mouth fell slightly open before scowling fiercely. "Hey!" she barked.
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "That's… your usual?" she spluttered. "That's all you eat?! No. No! I refuse to eat with someone who eats like the common rabble! Especially if they have never tried fine dining before!" Joan whirled around on the idol and was about to unleash a torrent of rage when the idol called out, "Archer! Give her the same as what I have!"
That caught the former doppelganger by surprise. "Wha- I don't want what you have!" she cried. "Just give me my usual, Archer! Ignore her!"
The former countess eyed Joan dismissively. "If your peasant fare is what satisfies you in the end, fine," she stated. "However, I refuse to eat beside someone who hasn't at least tried fine cuisine and spoiled their palette a bit. And as you can see, I am still dining here at the moment, so if you insist on staying here, I must insist you at least try."
"It would be a good change of pace for you," Archer spoke up with a hint of a smirk. "Nothing wrong with trying something a bit different, especially when someone else is insisting so fiercely."
Joan glared between the two of them and was about to argue when her stomach started rumbling loud enough for everyone to hear. She could only sigh in frustration. "Fine, fine!" the former doppelganger snapped. "I'll try it, okay? Happy?"
Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction. "Much," she replied. "Be honored, for you shall experience for yourself what a noble dines on!"
"Nobody asked," Joan grumbled as she rested her head on her hand in exasperation. Meanwhile, Archer had stepped away and walked into the storeroom to grab the ingredients to make the dish, leaving the two of them alone. The cafeteria was quiet save for the hiss of the air conditioning and the occasional quiet whirrs and buzzing of the robots. She looked over – and saw Elizabeth was observing her. "What?" she snapped.
"You're a lot different than I expected," Elizabeth replied. "I thought you'd be spitting fire and brimstone if something doesn't go your way. That's what you did back then when we saw you, anyway."
The former doppelganger scowled. "Sorry to disappoint you," she growled. "But I've had a change of heart – literally and figuratively at this point. Besides, that 'fire and brimstone' hurt way too many people. I'm not letting that happen again." With that, she turned away with a huff. As much as she didn't want to admit it, perhaps Archer had a point – it would be a good idea to try something new. She just wished it wasn't Elizabeth's suggestion.
Still, she remembered the advice Ren gave: Talking to different people, see their perspectives, and go from there. He had recommended Jeanne at first and while it didn't precisely point her in a direction, it at least gave her some grounding to work with. However, that wasn't nearly enough for her to push forward. She glanced over at Elizabeth. The infamous countess of blood, now an idol…
Perhaps it was a fools' errand, but maybe it would bear some sort of fruit. It wasn't like she had any better ideas. "So, why an idol?" she asked. "It's a rather huge jump from what you were before: a countess. Walk me through it – why'd you choose such a weird path?"
The former countess blinked at Joan in surprise, then turned back to cut a piece of steak. For an instant, she looked far older and mature than her appearance implied. "There were a lot of things I was considered back then," she muttered. "A monster, a vampire, a tyrant. Hmph! Everyone speaks a different tale yet it all leads to the same conclusion. That's how I've been written down and that's what everyone knows."
Joan frowned but waited for her to get to the point. Despite her impatience, however, she was listening closely. Elizabeth Bathory… she would have to make a note to research her legend later. Maybe they had something in common, maybe they didn't. But for now, it may be a good idea to pay attention to her experiences and mindset. Maybe she could glean an answer from someone who had been known as the Countess of Blood.
Elizabeth observed her closely. "You're trying to handle what you did before, aren't you?" she pointed out. "Acting all grumpy and surly isn't gonna do you any favors. You gotta do different things, see what catches your eye! And just as importantly, remember what you don't want! For me, that's why I wanna be an idol! To be known and loved by everyone is my dream!"
The former doppelganger could only blink multiple times. To be known and loved by everyone? That was… certainly a different goal than she expected from her. Anyone who was fine with draining the blood of maidens to rejuvenate themselves would be hated to the ends of the earth. It was a selfish goal without a doubt, but in an entirely different direction compared to how she had been in life. "To be known and loved by everyone, huh…?" she mused to herself.
The former countess scowled. "Now you're just copying me," she snapped. "So you're gonna have to find your own! You have regrets? Then turn them into your dreams! And if you have dreams, turn them into goals! That's what I'm doing! And I'll drag that Raven with me by the ear to fulfill his promise if I have to-!"
"Raven?" the former doppelganger questioned.
"Yeah, our Master!" Elizabeth clarified. "The guy who's not a cat?"
That could only mean Ren. But still, her words for some reason resonated with Joan, more than she expected. Turn regrets into dreams, then dreams into goals. It sounded like some idealistic self-help bullcrap, but even she couldn't deny it had a bit of merit. She had many regrets over what she had done and pondered long and hard how to fix it. Would it be possible to perhaps use that as a springboard as to how she wanted to live her own life?
She glanced over at Elizabeth, who was currently expounding on the virtues of being an idol. If her past was as grim as she implied it was, then that was one example. She had used her regrets and converted them into her goal of being an idol. On the surface it seemed utterly ridiculous (and it still was), but there wasn't a doubt that Elizabeth was burning a path toward it, come hell or high water. Would she be able to find a similar goal? Would she succeed? Did she even deserve such a dream?
It seemed this nonsensical conversation left her with more to think about. "You keep talking about 'idol this, idol that'," Joan growled, interrupting the former countess's speech. "Are you even able to sing well?"
Elizabeth scowled. "Are you underestimating me?" she snapped as she stood up. "Prepare yourself then for a special performance, from your soon-to-be everyone's favorite idol, Eli-chan!" Joan blinked in surprise, heard a crashing sound, and saw Archer for a split second paling in horror before diving straight back into the storage room. The former doppelganger's eyes widened as she whirled back to stop the idol, but it was too late.
"LAAAAAAAA~"
Afterward, Joan could only recall picking herself up from the cafeteria floor, completely covered in blue scales as she staggered out, her hunger forgotten. On second thought, perhaps she had nothing to learn from Elizabeth after all. She would have to think about it some more after the ringing in her ears stopped.
Whenever that might be.