Over the couple of weeks that the War had been going, Kotomine Kirei felt he had become very familiar with forests. Absent a good reason not to, that was where Lancer preferred to spend their time – and so, with the spectre of the Magus Killer (and, once it was obvious which Servant he had, his Assassin) looming in Kirei's mind, that was where he spent his time also. What he had noticed was how different they all felt.
There were the woods south of the Kotomine church, which were light and spacious, with little in the way of undergrowth – not a good place to launch an ambush from, as Emiya's woman had discovered. There was the Einzbern forest to the West, dark and stuffy, where there was no sound and your presence felt swallowed up by a place that actively hated you. Kotomine had gone to investigate on the first day of the War, but turned back on immediately finding the web of detection spells laid over the place.
Here, though, was the forest south of the Tohsaka house, which just felt old, if well cared for. The trees had impressive growths of mosses, climbing weeds and lichens, but were prevented from becoming too gnarled by pruning. It was certainly venerable, but unmistakably a managed place. Very Tohsaka.
Kirei followed his Servant in beneath the eaves, sensible shoes tromping after bare feet. Lancer slowed, allowing Kirei to catch up with them. That, he supposed, was a signal to talk.
"Why have we come out here?" he asked, for lack of a better way to approach the topic.
Lancer smiled. "It's more private, don't you think? Walls have ears, they say, so naturally we should talk about sensitive things where there aren't any."
"You consider this topic sensitive?"
"It's not about what I consider," came the reply. Lancer paused to consider a tree with a missing branch, then moved on. Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming.
This was typical of Lancer. Kirei had never had to work so hard in a conversation before summoning Enkidu – and he didn't understand why. They were perfectly reasonable in their conversation with his father, or Tokiomi or Rider. Granted, Lancer's absolute refusal to take any orders or even suggestions from Tokiomi unless they came via Kirei put a damper on their relationship, especially once Lancer had started asking Kirei if he really meant his orders.
But when they refused Tokiomi, they were entirely up-front about it. It was only Kirei that earned this… caginess? Coyness? He wasn't sure what to call it. He could read between the lines – Lancer wanted something from him.
And he had absolutely no idea what it was.
They certainly hadn't placed any checks on his actions, or indicated how they might prefer he act, or offered any feedback as to Kirei's conduct in the War so far. Whatever order he gave – provided it satisfied Lancer's mysterious criteria, which seemed to be related to Kirei's conviction in the idea – was obeyed, perfectly and without question.
One thing Lancer had told him, though, was that he needed to simply say things, without vetting or censoring his thoughts beforehand. When Kirei had asked why, Lancer had said only, "Hiding truths only lets you ignore what they are – lying isn't something I approve of, Master, especially to oneself. Only someone honest about themselves can understand their own nature, and by so doing rise above it."
Cryptic, and unhelpful. Kirei understood his own nature perfectly well.
So. Kirei said the first thing that came into his mind.
"What did you think of that, back there? Tokiomi's conversation with Rider, that is, and of the situation with Matou Sakura?"
Lancer hummed in thought, making the earth tremble very slightly. "I know very little about magic, and nothing at all about your 'magecraft'. I do know it doesn't seem very just to deny the girl a choice in the matter. That's what bothers me the most, I suppose. The quashing of one person's will by another has always seemed to me unfair. Combatants in a war are one thing, but life should be lived as one wishes… well. Again, it doesn't matter what I think. What about you, Master?" Lancer turned their head slightly. "What was your reaction to finding out about Matou Sakura's situation?"
Kirei blinked. The answer should have been obvious. "Appalled, obviously. Giving up his daughter for mere convenience flies in the face of all Christian morals I have been taught."
Lancer frowned. "Oh? I'm sure I didn't invite Rider out to these woods with me, so why am I hearing her voice? That's not your answer, Kirei. Try again."
Utterly taken aback, and with an unnamed fear starting to coil around his heart, Kirei managed, "Well… I mean… I was not shocked in the same way Rider was, to be sure. I have known Tohsaka Tokiomi for many years, after all. I knew he had two daughters, from correspondence with my father, and I had wondered just what had happened to the second – in truth, I assumed it was related to his status as a mage, like everything else about Tokiomi was. Still, finding out he had simply traded her away is more coldblooded than I thought he was-"
"No." Lancer didn't shout, but the tremor that accompanied their foot tapping on the ground as they bodily turned to face Kirei punctuated their interruption far more effectively. "Not your father's answer either. What did you think?"
Every sound in the forest stopped, all at once – no trees rustled in the wind, no birds sang. The silence was absolute, and expectant.
Stricken, Kirei stared at his Servant, face frozen but thoughts whirling behind it. Surely his Servant couldn't mean that? Not his first reaction?
But, of course. Enkidu wanted Kotomine Kirei to say things out loud. And here, in this wood, there was no-one to judge but his Servant and the trees… and God.
He dropped his gaze. "I was… excited."
He let the awful admission echo, not in the trees but in his head, building louder and louder every second until he was praying for his Servant to break the silence.
As usual, Lancer did not, only gazing at Kirei with no expression. Kirei was forced to explain himself.
"I… cannot derive joy from anything other than suffering. This is the kind of man I am. From my youth when I first realised this, I have tried everything to repent, searching for salvation, but it was denied me. While I have committed no sin, no crime, nevertheless my true nature remains unchanged. If true evil lives in the hearts of men, then surely there is no better word to describe me." He let his breath out in a rush, trembling with the fear, worry and sheer relief that had come with his words.
This was the first time he had ever let what was in his heart out into the world. After he had fully understood what kind of man he was on his wife's deathbed, he had locked that secret deep inside and buried himself in the trappings of Christianity and the Church. He had harmed no innocent being despite the intrusive thoughts that whispered how delicious it would feel, and in all ways acted as a moral paragon.
Because Kirei knew right from wrong. How could he not? He genuinely admired his father for his moral code and the work he did for the Church, enough to follow him into the profession. He'd grown up believing that his Christian values were correct, and believed that still. He hadn't lost his faith – he'd simply realised that he was not the kind of man who could ever be happy so long as it acted in accordance with its demands.
The question of why God had allowed something such as him to exist in the first place was, by now, one to which he was resigned to never answering.
He had continued to act as he knew he must, and if he was only playing a part then at least he played it so well that his own father, so far as Kirei knew, had never been able to tell how miserable he was. Even his wife had never understood. If he had sinned in his heart, at least he had harmed no-one and broken none of God's laws. No-one had ever known.
"Doing what is right by God comes before what I want. No matter the consequences."
Rider's words – the voice of a saint, passing judgement on the wicked and declaring with unassailable authority the correct way to live. How else was Kirei to take it? It could only be a message directly from God that, yes: he, Kirei, was to continue to suffer, was to toil his life away in unhappiness if needs be, was to follow the code he knew to be correct no matter the consequences to himself.
That was what had truly spurred him to ask for a talk with Lancer – some last spark of sin in his soul asking if he was truly damned to this life forever. Rider's position was clear, as was his father's. Tokiomi would not understand the question. Only Lancer might be willing to offer an ear.
Well, they had.
And now, it was out in the world for all to hear.
Surely, now, Lancer would condemn him. Enkidu, who valued justice enough to emerge from the woods and fight the king of the world for the sake of people he had never met, could never accept a man as broken as Kotomine Kirei.
When Lancer smiled, it was like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Master. Well done." Sound returned to the forest, and the awful tension drained away like morning mist. Enkidu turned, and continued their unhurried walk through the woods.
Kirei followed. "Is that all you have to say?"
"No. But it was the first thing." Enkidu trailed their hands across the tree trunks on either side. "I knew you were conflicted, of course. I can very well recognise the sign of someone who has no will, no centre of their own, and takes it from someone else. In my view, that's inhuman – and as an inhuman entity myself, I should know. Humans should be driven by something, anything, and it bothered me to see my own Master so rudderless. I'm fine with being used as a tool, but the tool cannot – should not, rather – choose the task. If I couldn't become what you wanted, I would have to become what you needed… and it seemed to me when I saw you that you required a scourge."
Kirei shook his head, utterly lost. "Lancer… please, speak clearly. What is it that you want of me?"
"Well, put it this way. All I have ever expected of you as my Master is to act as you want – or, I guess, I wanted you to want something."
"But what I want is evil!" Kirei said. "Surely you have objections – are you not a Heroic Spirit?"
"Mmmm… I don't have any desire to see innocents hurt unjustly, true. If you started wantonly acting on your desires without regard for others, I would step in. But, first things first. Congratulations on accepting your true nature, Master – or at least admitting to it out loud, which is the next step after that." Enkidu smiled, and then dropped their bombshell.
"By the way, do you intend to change your nature or not?"
Kirei stopped walking.
That… was impossible, wasn't it? He'd tried repentance, he'd begged for salvation every day, and nothing had helped. For Enkidu to talk of changing natures so easily… it wasn't that simple.
"Lancer, none of us can change the way we are made. I cannot alter who I am. If God decided in His wisdom to create me this way, who am I to say he has made a mistake?"
Lancer waved a hand. "Oh, gods. I've never met yours, but speaking as someone from the Age of Gods, they make mistakes all the time, trust me. As for changing who you are – I was, quite literally, sculpted by the gods for a specific purpose, and I still managed to rebel against my purpose and join Gilgamesh after meeting him. Humans have far more free will than I ever did, so don't give me that excuse."
They turned, and faced Kirei, face serious. "Don't worry about your creation, or your 'original purpose', or your 'true nature' or any of that. Accept the way you are, yes, recognise what you are, certainly, but never feel like that must define you for the rest of your life. All that matters is your will… and I think yours is already straining against whatever bonds your nature might be placing on you." They continued on into the wood.
Kirei followed. He couldn't not. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… Master, you told me yourself you have committed no 'sin', whatever that might mean. This, despite the fact that it's the only thing you enjoy?"
"That's right."
"Well, then, it seems clear to me. While you might want to make others suffer, you don't want to want to. To keep to your principles like that, throughout your life, no matter where they came from in the first place – that takes strength. Strength of mind, and of character. Out of curiosity, what was your motivation to not simply enjoy yourself, even once? Anyone else might have." Lancer continued their winding path through the forest. The Executor part of Kirei – whichever tiny part not currently dealing with admitting their evil and then processing Lancer's bizarre response – wondered if Lancer was leading them somewhere.
Kirei pondered the question. Why had he stayed the course?
"I… knew that what I felt was wrong. It went against the values I had been taught all my life, that I still believe to be correct. That is the long and short of it. My joy was wrong, so I did not allow myself to feel joy."
Lancer paused, at where some animal had created a trail crossing what appeared to be their path. After a moment, they led Kirei down it, heading deeper into the wood. "Then, it looks like you already know what you want to be. Or, what you don't want to be, which is almost as good. My advice, then, is simple – don't allow yourself to slip into doing what you don't wish to do. Reforge yourself into something better than you are, if you have to, but never accept the cage of 'true natures', or thinking that you can't do better than the gods just because they made you a certain way.
"Of course," Lancer continued, "I was eventually struck down by those same gods after I did rebel, so maybe it's the wrong choice after all." They laughed, without bitterness. "Still, I have no regrets, and neither should you. We're here, by the way – I'm sure you guessed, but I had another reason to bring us out here."
Eager for any change of subject, Kirei asked, "And what was that?"
In response, Lancer gestured at the ground. It shifted, tree roots writhing like snakes, to reveal a small pit – and a stake-like object embedded in the earth.
While it was clearly highly advanced, even futuristic, the design seemed somewhat familiar – however, it was only when the head grew birdlike wings and detached to fly away that Kirei recognised it.
Lancer snatched the device out of the air. "Caster's work," they said, confirming Kirei's guess, and crushed it idly. "She's been placing these all throughout the city – leyline taps, I think. For human work, they're surprisingly eco-friendly… but for all that, Caster is our opponent. I didn't think you'd want them to have any more access to magical energy than they had to, so I've been taking the liberty of removing these wherever I find them. There's another reason too, which you might find instructive."
They knelt in the dirt and grasped the stake, and yanked it from the ground in one swift movement. A swift movement crumpled it like an origami model, and Enkidu secreted it in their robes before turning back to Kirei.
"I'm not against technology, Master. On the contrary, I find all human endeavour fascinating, which is why my Noble Phantasm is based on it. But that is for humanity as a whole. The work of a single genius, not reproduced or spread among mankind but hoarded… well, Gil might have regarded it as a treasure, or as some effort of an exceptional human to be praised, but I can only see it as unfair. We didn't always see eye to eye on everything, you see."
They smiled, fondly. "I suppose my friend, had he been here, would have given you different advice when he heard about your problem. He might have told you to follow your desires just to see where they lead, and damn whoever gets in your way. Well, I'm the one who came to blows with him over that very thing, and my opinions haven't changed. I'm not Gilgamesh, and just as I don't have to applaud Caster's cheating technology, I don't have to condone what he would. Act justly, Master. You know what is right, so do it."
Left unspoken was the implication that Lancer would defy their Master, just as they'd defied King Gilgamesh, if they acted unjustly. Kirei heard it loud and clear nevertheless.
"Caster had her time," Enkidu continued. "Any changes she wished to make to the grand total of human endeavour should have been made while she was one. Trying to enact lasting change on the world as a Servant… it's not what we're here for. That should only be done by the living. By you, Kirei." They smiled.
"I can change myself into anything I desire, but I can't change the world anymore. That right belongs to humans now. To see a human waste that right and not even know what they want… that's not how things should be."
Lancer gestured, and the tree roots writhed again, filling the pit and leaving no sign Caster's work had ever been.
Kirei watched, lost in thought.
It was only just dawning on him that, given who he had summoned, he was the likely winner of the Grail War. Which meant that the prize of a wish would be his. Tokiomi had his own ideas and expectations – he wouldn't have even considered that Kirei would want something different, which was fair enough considering that, well, neither had Kirei. But now…
Do you intend to change your nature or not?
Was it possible? A foolish question. If the Grail was the wish-granting device it was said to be – and with the power of seven Servants, it should be, even if that was not what the three founding families had designed it for – then surely it was not beyond its power to change one man's soul.
The Grail, reclaimed by the Church not through force of arms, but through demonstration of its redemptive power…
Kirei could not pass that up.
But, there was a lot more that one could do with a wish. If Kirei could change by himself, then he would, and use his wish for something else.
Which meant there was only one question remaining, one last thing Kirei wanted to know before this War concluded.
Was Emiya Kiritsugu truly the same as Kotomine Kirei?
If Emiya had a will strong enough to find meaning in his empty life, to create his own meaning for existence, then Kirei needed to know. Not just for himself, now, not just out of idle curiosity. It wouldn't be wrong to say that the fate of world peace now rested on what answer Kirei could find out of Emiya Kiritsugu.
With his heart lighter than it had been in years, Kirei followed his Servant out of the woods and back towards the town where humanity lived in all its glory.
