Serenity crouched in a tree. Even barefoot, even balancing on her toes to maintain footing on the tiny branch, she was steady as a rock. Below her, her target searched, oblivious.
People rarely looked up – especially not directly up. At most, they might scan the canopy every so often, then return to looking at head height and sometimes ground level. Craning your neck all the way up was awkward and uncomfortable, so people just didn't do it.
Serenity would have struck by now, but the location wasn't right. Still, it wasn't hard to make someone move the way you wanted, if you knew how.
She threw one of her double-sided white knives, almost invisible against the backdrop of snowy forest. It landed with a soft crunch in a snowdrift, about fifty feet behind the target, who whirled and squinted as through trying to catch a glimpse of motion. With a glance back behind her, the target set off, carefully checking behind every tree.
Serenity followed above, sure-footed as a squirrel and utterly silent. Her target stopped, and so did Serenity, showing no discomfort as her bare feet landed on a snow-covered branch, as thick as her wrist. She looked around at where they had ended up. Yes, this would do.
She reached down and gave a branch a violent shake, sending snow plummeting down like a miniature avalanche. It all fell directly onto her target, who squealed in outrage.
"Aah! Serenity, you meanie, that went down my back!"
Illya shook out her dress in a frantic attempt to get the snow out before it all melted, and glared at Serenity, who landed in front of her so lightly she barely left a footprint.
"My apologies," she said.
"I really thought I had you that time. I definitely heard you behind me!"
"I am an assassin raised to the Throne of Heroes. If you can hear anything at all from me, you should probably assume it is a trick."
Illya huffed, and Serenity smiled.
She and her Master, and Iri, wouldn't be staying in the Einzbern castle all that long – her own summoning was pretty much the end of the preparations, and it was judged that Kiritsugu would perform better if he spent more time in the battleground beforehand, the inherent risk this presented being significantly mitigated by the presence of Assassin. So, they were there for pretty much exactly as long as it took to conduct final mission preparations: transport to Fuyuki, transfer of essential resources, sending initial reconnaissance teams in to make sure the Tohsakas hadn't cooked up some nasty surprises for visiting magi over the last sixty years, that sort of thing.
Soon, they would be leaving. Serenity was still sceptical that this aeroplane could really get the three of them to Japan in a matter of hours, but she was looking forward to seeing it, and seeing Japan, too. She'd travelled far and wide in life – for someone of her era, that was. Her Master had asked her to name all the places she had visited, to get a sense of the different environments she could operate in, and had pointed them out in an atlas. The scale of the world, and the tiny part of it that had made up her whole life, had left her feeling small and humble.
Serenity had spent most of her time winning snowball fights against Illya. Somehow, Illya managed to be just as excited by the prospect of playing in the snow as Serenity was, despite having lived in it all her life and Serenity having never seen snow before. As someone who was, by necessity, quite good at reading people, Serenity thought that Illya must be incredibly lonely shut up in this castle. None of the true Einzbern children really associated with her, and while the homunculi were nice enough they all had jobs to do and none of them were really children even if they were younger than Illya. Very probably, Serenity was the first person outside of her parents to really pay attention to the girl.
These matches weren't – quite – as uneven as they sounded, because Serenity couldn't directly hit Illya with a snowball. There was every possibility a little of her sweat could sink into the snow and then hit Illya, and even such a tiny amount could prove fatal, especially to someone as small as Illya.
But it was still a match between a Servant and a human child, and Serenity was very good at improvising. Shaking branches above Illya's head, kicking up great flurries by moving at speed… once she stole Illya's scarf and used it as a giant sling.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd played around like this. She was younger than Illya was, certainly. Ever since she'd been taken by the Order, there had been no time for frivolity, only study, prayer, and training. And ever since she achieved her poison body, she was left unable to play normally with others even if she'd wanted to.
The War wasn't all going to be like this, of course. Sooner or later, the killing would start. But this… it was a reminder of what she was fighting for. The chance to, once again, live and laugh and love like a normal girl.
The rest of the time was spent in conversation with her Master. He wanted to know everything about her – or rather, about what she could do. Could she harm Servants with her poison? How much was necessary to kill a normal human? Could it linger on objects? What were the effects when administered by contact, by ingestion, by injection, by application on a wound? Besides her poison, what else could Serenity do?
Her Master had access to information on all her parameters and skills, but he wanted to see them anyway. Serenity obeyed, without complaint. It made sense to her. She was just another of her Master's weapons – it was only natural he should know everything about it and how it worked. She saw the careful way he maintained his gun and his knives, and noted that it wasn't done out of love or sentimentality, but simple pragmatism. She approved, and did everything Kiritsugu asked.
The day came, quicker than seemed possible. Despite her promise to be good, Illya threw a tantrum on the day her parents left, and Serenity's last sight of her was the tiny homunculus screaming and crying while hanging half out her parents window, while a harried-looking maid held on to her to stop her from following.
Then they were away – Serenity, her Master, and Iri, who drove to a small airport and then on to the Einzbern private jet. Serenity could have followed the car in spirit form, but could hardly have kept up with an aeroplane, and in any case all of the aircrew were owned or employed by the Einzberns and knew better than to talk; so Serenity spent the trip materialised, and enjoying the journey. When the plane took off, she was all but glued to the window, and gasped to see the land fall away – higher than the tallest tower, higher than the mountains, she'd never seen such wonders in all her life.
But she thought that behaving like some simple peasant girl would hardly give her Master faith in her, so she restrained her excitement and instead settled down to sleep for the long journey to Japan.
Eventually, she was woken – not by a shake, of course, but by her Master's curt voice in her mind. When they landed, Serenity was already in spirit form. Iri would proceed to the castle, there to meet up with the staff that had been sent ahead to prepare it and make it liveable after sixty years of minimal maintenance. Kiritsugu would be meeting with his associate, Hisau Maiya, to retrieve the weapons he'd left with her in a secure location. Serenity, naturally, would accompany him.
For this part of the journey, and from this point on, Serenity was not to be seen in public. This was a warzone, and there was no point giving out information you didn't have to. Even the fact that the Einzbern Servant was an Assassin was priceless information to the right person at the right time, even without knowing exactly who it was. So, while Kiritsugu's hired car weaved through the streets of Fuyuki, Serenity followed above, hopping from rooftop to rooftop, visible only to those with the mystic sight and then only as a fleeting shadow.
When her Master arrived at the hotel, Serenity was already there. As a ghost, she drifted in to the room her Master had indicated, and settled into a dark corner. The woman inside noticed nothing, instead continuing to check and recheck the weapons which covered the bed.
There were bullets, and knives, and various cheap handguns like the one Kiritsugu had had with him back in Germany. But three were given pride of place, obviously special – and while the Grail did not go so far as to give Serenity the exact specifications of each, it did give her a general idea of why. The first was designed to be held in one hand, and would spit a rapid stream of bullets. The second was huge, almost as tall as Serenity herself, and would fire single shots with high power and great precision. Both of these were impressive enough – although Serenity could almost match the firing rate of the smaller and the accuracy and power of the larger using her thrown daggers.
The last, however, was rather more special. Older and better cared-for, with the marks and wear that showed years of hard use. Just by looking at it, Serenity could tell it would fit in her Master's hand like it had grown there. This would be the Thompson Contender, then – the tool through which her Master fired his signature Origin Bullets and his greatest weapon. Besides her.
Kiritsugu must have had a lot of trust in this Hisau Maiya, to have left such a weapon in her care.
Serenity waited for her Master – as did Maiya, judging from the impatient glances she kept throwing at the door, and the way she kept on looking out the window. Even so, it was Serenity that noticed him coming first. The tread of his shoes, the rhythm of his steps, the soft rustle of his coat – Serenity had a good ear for this kind of thing. Identifying a target with senses other than sight was an essential skill for the Order, after all, though Serenity was usually in plain view when she killed anyway.
Thus, she wasn't surprised when Kiritsugu entered the cheap hotel room without fanfare, and was instead watching Maiya. The woman's cold and expressionless face lit up for an instant, with a smile of delight – before she reined it in and looked detached once more. To Serenity, though, it was obvious. Love, or something close enough to pass for it. Or else, a kind of dependency that at least did the trick.
Kiritsugu had seemed comfortable with ordering the Servant Assassin around, as if it was natural, without shame or awkwardness. This was good, and was one of the reasons why the partnership between the two was as frictionless as it was, but Serenity had never realised that it wasn't actually all that natural. Now she understood. She wasn't the first girl to regard Emiya Kiritsugu as her Master.
Her Master greeted Maiya with a kiss on the lips. Maiya closed her eyes in bliss, but to Serenity it was clear that Kiritsugu was just going through the motions. As someone who'd kissed hundreds of men she did not love, Serenity was very familiar with what that expression looked like. It bothered her. Being used as a tool was something she, Serenity, was used to – as a member of the order, and now as a Servant – but Maiya was head over heels for a man who could only see her as a pawn.
She thought of Iri, too, even now busy preparing a home for Kiritsugu to come back to… but let it go. It wasn't any of her business. No, in fact this rational, methodical, cold approach would work wonders for them in the war, and fit in seamlessly with her own methods. It would almost certainly increase her chances of acquiring the Grail and achieving her wish.
It still bothered her. But only a little. Not even as much as, say, taking a human life.
Still, she would have to make an effort to be nicer to Maiya. With luck, she wouldn't have to keep on living the life that Serenity had. One girl lost to a life of death and shadows was more than enough for one team.
… she should probably wait to show herself, though, because Maiya might just have a heart attack if she realised she and Kiritsugu weren't alone right now. Feeling vaguely voyeuristic, Serenity settled back into the shadows.
So, it turned out demon summoning was easier than people thought. Who knew?
Okay, there was actually a fair bit of work involved. First, you had to discover an old book in your parents' house, that actually had the ritual in it in the first place. Then, get bored enough to actually decide to try it out. Then you had to actually learn the design of the summoning circle, and practice drawing it in blood too, because blood didn't run like ink or paint did and you had to work quite quickly to prevent clotting or stuff like that.
And then the book said it needed to be the right blood, unless you could do magic in the first place. If you weren't already a wizard, then you needed to find a wizard and use his blood instead, because it would have the 'residual Od, which the aspiring Form Magus might Transfigure into the true Mana by means of the Alchemy of Soul, using the improvised Formalcraft diagram as described in Chapter Seventeen'.
It was a testament to just how bored Uryuu Ryuunosuke was with his life that he'd bothered to hack through that dusty old piece of crap, and bothered to do all the practice, just for the possibility of summoning a demon. Just on the off-chance magic was actually real.
If it was all a hoax, just a bunch of old farts playing make believe, then he'd be stuck with an awkward clean-up and would laugh about it later. (To himself, obviously.)
If it was real…
…well, hopefully he wouldn't get fried by a fireball or something when he tried to go after a wizard's blood. But, discounting that, if he managed to summon a proper demon – man, just how cool would that be?
And that was why he was here, in this house, draining the blood from two people and their teenaged daughter. Apparently they were magical, according to rumours around the neighbourhood anyway. They hadn't hit him with a fireball, although to be fair Ryuunosuke had kind of cheated by breaking into the house while the family was asleep and injecting them with quick-acting sedative where they lay. (No sense in wasting blood.)
The circle was drawn. (Again. Ryuunosuke had gone through quite a few murders before now, trying to find the right people.) The sacrifice was ready, although it was getting tears and snot all over the floor. God, it was like someone had just killed the young boy's entire family and decorated the floor with their blood and tied him up and forced him to watch all of it. Kids these days.
"Okay, how did this go?" he said to himself. "Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill, fill… geez, how many times…" he broke off and flicked through the book. "Five? Fine. Fill times five, repeat times five, frickin' whatever. I will be all the good in the world – not bloody likely. I am all the evil in the world, that's more like it. Answer my summons, Guardian of the Contract!"
The circle glowed a dull red.
That seemed to be it.
"Um…" started Ryuunosuke. Was the demon just trying to trick him into breaking the circle and freeing it to slaughter everyone? He didn't really know how clever this thing was going to be. But, on the other hand, he got the circle to glow this time! Progress! It was a pretty roundabout way of getting a crappy reading light, and it wasn't exactly the kind of trick he could show off at parties, but still!
No doubting it now, magic definitely existed. And, well, he'd feel pretty stupid if there really was a demon there, just biding its time, and he just walked away because he was dumb enough to fall for its tricks. Maybe it just needed a little encouragement?
"Um, Mr. Demon? I've got a nice little sacrifice for you here! Something nice and sweet and succulent- ah! Fucking ow!"
His hand burned as if branded. Before his eyes, a weird pattern of marks appeared on the back – and the circle on the floor erupted into flames.
When it died down, the circle was empty no more. What looked like a young blonde girl stood inside, dressed in a pale yellow kimono. At first glance, she looked pretty cute, kind of exotic. Then Ryuunosuke noticed the horns, curving up from her forehead. And the hands and feet, monstrous red clawed things instead of dainty human fingers. And the way the ends of her long hair smouldered and flickered with licks of flame.
And the eyes – utterly alien, glittering with a cold, reptile intelligence under a murk of rage. The eyes of a cat, and Ryuunosuke knew how cruel those evil little furballs could be. They locked onto Ryuunosuke's, and he found himself frozen like a rabbit before a snake. Here, in front of him, was a predator – the next step above mankind on the food chain.
She spoke, and Ryuunosuke saw tusks. "Well, summoner? Where are the sweets that were promised?"
Ryuunosuke blinked. "Oh. Um, it's not sweets, it's that kid there." The boy's muffled screams almost hid the demon's sigh.
"Better than nothing, I suppose…"
There was… mess.
When it was done, the demon sat in the middle of the room, licking her claws clean. Ryuunosuke gaped.
"That was… when you… and his bones…"
The demon winced. "Yes… the bone thing wasn't really my idea. But I have a friend who'd be disappointed. You know how it is."
Ryuunosuke stared at the demon he'd summoned. This was… mindblowing. He was well aware he wasn't like other people. Ever since he was young, he'd had a fascination with death. He wanted to see more of it, experience more of it, and eventually, create more of it. Everything about the transition was just amazing to him.
Other people didn't seem to think this way, and while Ryuunosuke never really wondered why he accepted that he was an outlier, and that society would never accept him as he was. So he contented himself with easily-hidden murders, going after women and children as easier targets, and resigned himself to the fact that he'd never be able to really do anything interesting with death.
This demon, though? Now she was interesting. She was like… like a sentient tiger, a wild beast that inflicted death on humans in her path like it was natural but also could appreciate how she did it. She was the most beautiful thing Ryuunosuke had ever seen.
"So," he started, "who are you, anyway?"
The demon looked round, and fixed his gaze with those animal eyes. "Hm? Ah. Servant Berserker, Ibaraki-douji."
This wasn't really what Ryuunosuke was expecting to hear. "Servant… what? Who do you serve?"
The newly-named Ibaraki glared. "You, obviously. Keep up. You summoned me for the Grail War, did you not?"
"…the what?"
Ibaraki snarled – actually snarled, making a noise like a pissed-off tiger. "The Grail War, summoner. A battle between seven legends, for the prize of one wish. You truly do not know?"
Ryuunosuke's blank look said it all.
The demon sighed, glowering with eyes like coal. "You summoned me and bound me to this world. While this is true, I will fight to obtain the Grail. Should you die, I die as well. Six others vie for the prize, and six others will be ripped apart should they stand between me and what is mine." Ibaraki flexed her claws, and clenched her right fist. "Six other mages are in your position, having summoned a Servant to fight on their behalf. For your sake, I hope your magecraft is as mighty as your Servant." She smirked, showing her tusks once more.
Oh. Oh dear. This was… this was pretty bad, wasn't it. All Ryuunosuke had wanted to do was summon a demon to feast on the souls of the living! He didn't think he'd actually have to do any work for it!
"Erm, just to let you know, I'm kinda… not a wizard? I basically just sort of completed this ritual by accident. I don't know anything about any Grail, or any other wizards… are you saying that there's other guys who've summoned demons like you?"
Ibaraki stared at him for five full seconds. Then she put one monstrous claw to her forehead and closed her eyes. "My Master is useless. Once more, I will have to do everything myself… Shuten, I bet you're laughing at me from Hell right now…" She opened her eyes again. "Very well. If that is how it must be. Master!"
Ryuunosuke supposed that meant him. "Yes?"
"Once more, I am Ibaraki-douji, Servant Berserker, leader of the oni of Mount Ooe. I will fight and win the Grail, to achieve my own wish. If we win, you also get one wish." Oh. That sounded pretty cool. "I will do my best to keep you alive, but be warned – we enter battles you have never imagined, and I have never attempted to protect someone so… puny."
"I'm not-"
"Therefore, we will need a secure base of operations. I am most familiar with mountain territory. Tell me, is there a mountain nearby where we can retreat and plan and raid from?"
Ryuunosuke thought. There was one place…
"I guess. But, there's already a temple there. Hey, if demons are real, are onmyouji real too? Is that going to be a problem?"
Ibaraki smiled nastily. "No. I don't expect it will."
It was night, in Fuyuki city.
Come morning, the delivery man found Ryuudouji Temple deserted.
