"I must say—this performance is quite appalling."
"Perhaps the fault lies with the teacher and not the student?"
"Only because my expectations were too high, it seems."
Another quip was on my tongue, but I swallowed the words before I could give another retort. Despite whatever I could say, the fact of the matter was that she was not wrong in the slightest.
I held out my left hand, closing my eyes once again before focusing on the deep well of magical energy reserves within myself. Slowly, as if I was using magecraft for the first time, I willed that energy to flow through my body, pouring through my magical circuits in order to actualize the mystery I pictured within my head.
"Let the great protection of water be on the place thou seekest. I call a refreshing, burbling stream here and now. Water Ball!"
Roxy's eyes narrowed slightly in anticipation, but the bated breath that she had been holding in the past few dozen attempts was no longer present. It wasn't a surprise; considering the lackluster results, any hope that she might have had before was now surely and utterly crushed. The only thing keeping both of us going was the obligation to at least try as many spells as we could.
Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of the spell materializing in front of my palm. There were no droplets of water, no moisture being condensed, and I couldn't even feel my magical energy responding to the spell I was trying to cast.
Roxy let out a sigh of disappointment, sapphire orbs dulling as she flipped through the weighty tome in her hand—the book of magical spells that Paul had mentioned beforehand.
After my accidental display of emotion and Roxy's timely offer to become my magic tutor, we had agreed to begin our first lesson today. While we were making arrangements, Alice and Sylphiette returned from visiting Zenith upstairs. As they prepared to leave, Alice gave me a knowing smile, and Sylphiette confirmed our training session for tomorrow before the family departed.
Once they were gone, Lilia had busied herself preparing dinner while Paul retrieved a spellbook for my magical education. After checking on Zenith, he then left Roxy and me to our lesson, giving us space to begin my formal instruction in magic.
The very beginnings of dusk were starting to set in, the afternoon discussion with Roxy and lunch with Sylphiette's family having taken much of the day. Lilia was cooking dinner while Paul had left to check in on Zenith, leaving Roxy and I alone for our tutoring session. Before we had even started any demonstrations, Roxy had begun explaining the foundations of this world's magic system.
Much like magecraft, magic was the manipulation of magical energy—this world not creating a distinction between energy from within the body, od, or energy from the world, mana. It was not nearly as guarded as it was on Earth, the denizens of this world merely accepting magic as a part of life, though people capable of using mana were relatively uncommon and those who could master its usage even moreso. Regardless, magic wasn't treated as some taboo secret that required the assassination or memory manipulation of any witnesses, something that I would have appreciated some years ago before having had a demonic spear rammed through my chest.
Magicians had categorized magic spells into three main types: Attack, Healing, and Summoning. Each one was divided into seven different ranks of proficiency: Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, Saint, King, Emperor, and God. It was the same terminology that Paul had used when describing the classes of swordsmanship, and based on his comments about this Ghislaine figure, a king-level opponent was someone who was truly exceptional.
The spell categories were rather self-explanatory, though the concept of Summoning magic caught my attention in particular. The techniques she described bore similarities to the ritual of the Holy Grail War—specifically those used to invoke Heroic Spirits from the Throne of Heroes. If my suspicions about the grail were correct, it wouldn't need to create something new or re-establish the connection it had with its previous world; it could simply twist this world's existing systems to serve its purposes.
Unaware of those unsettling implications, Roxy had moved on to the demonstration portion of her lesson. Magicians in this world seemed to rely mainly on incantations, confirming my theory from when Zenith had first healed a minor injury of mine. The woman had used a rather lengthy aria to create the healing effect of her spell, and from Roxy's explanation, it seemed that such incantations were standard practice. Reciting the incantation was a necessary step to facilitate the manipulation of the caster's mana, and the higher ranked the spell, the lengthier the incantation was, though the chant could be shortened into a smaller phrase depending on the skill of the caster.
"Observe carefully," Roxy instructed, stepping away from me and pointing her staff towards a tree on the far side of the clearing we were situated in. Azure orbs steadied on her target, and I felt the invisible pressure of her Demon Eyes intensifying, proceeded by the formation of water droplets spiraling into a ball of clear water at the tip of her staff.
"Let the great protection of water be on the place thou seekest. I call a refreshing burbling stream here and now." Her voice rang through the forest, clear and melodic, and with each word she uttered, the effects of the spell became more and more pronounced until where thin air had been one moment, rippling water had condensed into a sphere the size of her head.
"—Water Ball."
Like a horse galloping at its master's call, the spell was let loose. The liquid projectile flew through the air, shooting forward like a bullet, and with a sharp crack, it completely shattered the midsection of the tree's trunk, the top half crashing down to the ground with a loud thud. Behind the tree was another like it, and there was a sizable chunk taken out of it, the power of the Water Ball having carried through the first target.
"The potency of that spell is significantly stronger than the average Water Ball," Roxy said, seeing my raised eyebrow at the destructive power of the Beginner-level spell. "Still, it will suffice for a demonstration."
I couldn't quite tell if her nonchalance was genuine. Seeing what was supposed to be a trivial spell match the power of one of my projections gave me some food for thought, to say the least.
However, even more interesting than the spell itself was Roxy's method of casting it. She had said earlier that incantations allowed for the desired effect to be produced without the need to focus on the mana coursing through the body, but Roxy's spell had actualized before she had said a single word. From what it looked like, the incantation seemed more like a focusing tool rather than a trigger—a mental framework that helped her solidify the image of the desired effect.
How curious. Was this an effect of her Demon Eyes? It would certainly explain Roxy's extraordinary ability as a mage. Whether due to her innate talent, her Demon Eyes, or both, her mana responded to her intentions even before she verbalized them.
In that way, incantations in this world seemed almost equivalent to the arias I was familiar with—a form of self-hypnosis that catalyzed the manipulation of magical energy. Hell, it was even similar to my own magecraft, seeing as both fundamentally relied on clear visualization of the intended outcome.
If incantations primarily served to create a spell's mental image while subconsciously guiding the user's mana toward the desired effect, it made sense why such a technique had become the standard method of spellcasting here, the incantation almost automating the process. However, if my theory proved correct, it might be possible to bypass incantations entirely with sufficient training and focus. Roxy herself seemed to be already halfway there.
My musings were then interrupted by the petite mage. My capability to control mana and cast spells was already answered last night, and after her lecture and demonstration, all that was left was to piece together everything she had placed into my hands.
Suffice to say, the current results were rather disappointing, leading to my current situation.
"Try this one," Roxy requested, handing me the book while pointing towards a specific line.
Ah, denial—hopefully acceptance would be soon.
"Supple spirit of water and princess of streams that flow through the earth, sweep away all things with your hidden inner might. Water Canon!"
Of course, I already knew the result, but regardless I still held out my hand, pointing it at a large pile of destroyed lumber where a group of trees once stood. The splintered remains were evidence of Roxy's additional tutorials—well-intentioned but ultimately futile attempts to help correct my spellcasting, clearly believing I needed more demonstrations to grasp traditional spellcasting.
Predictably, nothing happened, the gust of wind that blew through the forest only driving home my lack of success.
"So higher level spells aren't compatible with you either…"
"I guess swords are all I can make after all." Another proverbial nail in the coffin.
"It's quite interesting," Roxy said. "You have no issues with circulating mana through your body and forming them into solid objects. I can see it for myself when you create your swords. However, when it comes to traditional magical spells, it's almost as if your mana refuses to respond to the incantations." She fiddled with the brim of her hat. "A miko that specializes in Attack Magic that conjures physical objects and nothing else… I must say—throughout all my travels, this phenomenon is a first for me. Should you choose to venture there later, I'm sure those old men at the Ranoa University would love to conduct some research on you."
"Ranoa University?"
"An institution further North from here. If you wish to further your magical studies, Ranoa is the ideal place to do so. I myself am an alumnus from there, and I can personally vouch for the quality of their education."
Roxy's face cringed slightly at the last remark, but I paid it no mind. What caught my attention more was the university she mentioned—it reminded me of the Clock Tower, the institute of magical research Tohsaka had spoken about more than once.
"Hey Emiya-kun, when this is all over, you'll come with me to London, right?"
"What makes you think I'd be so eager to drop everything and follow you across the world?"
"The fact that you can't say no to me," the magus said slyly. "Besides, how else am I supposed to continue your rehabilitation if you're not at my side at all times?"
"You make it sound like I'm your pet," I muttered, feeling my ears heat up but not denying her words.
"You're right—pets don't argue nearly as much," she said, clearly enjoying herself. "But don't worry, we'll bring the others too. I don't mind a little competition~"
I coughed, trying to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks. "You really think I belong in a place like that?"
She paused, her teasing smile softening. Her gaze locked with mine, and then she spoke, her voice steady and sincere:
"I think it suits you far more than you realize."
"I'll pass. I stand out enough as is," I said, perhaps a bit too hastily from the way Roxy raised an eyebrow. Still, the magician let the matter go with a shrug.
"Fair enough. Pursuing higher learning isn't for everyone. Some people need to throw themselves against the world rather than sit in lecture halls or research laboratories." Roxy's eyes took on a distant look. "There's a certain... hollowness to it all after a point. I sense you're not someone who'd be content with mere academia when you could be doing something."
I remember our conversation last night, about Roxy's arrogance in her youth and her recklessness in trying to prove herself.
"You understand," I stated.
Dangerous, I reminded myself. And I wasn't exactly referring to her abilities.
Blue orbs pierced through me. "After my brief stint in adventuring and the Cataclysm, I wasn't entirely sure what to do. I finally got the recognition I wanted, but it felt nothing like I had hoped it would. The goal I always longed for ended up being no prize at all." Roxy let out a lethargic sigh and leaned back, sliding down the tree behind her until she sat down on the ground. "I tried to teach, you know, see if I could find what I had left behind. Went back to Ranoa, made some amends, applied to be a professor." She gave me a wry look. "Obviously, that didn't last long."
"… You never moved on."
She gave me a biter smile. "That's always the advice, isn't it? Move on, be better, don't let what happened be for nothing." There was a wistfulness to her words, and she looked up at the heavens, watching the sun slowly dipping below the horizon and bathing the world in an amber glow. "Some eventually do… but not me."
Naturally, I had no words for that, letting out a deep sigh as I tried to fight the torrent of memories swelling up inside of me.
"Don't sigh like that. It makes you sound like a jaded old man," Roxy quipped, blue eyes following me as I sat at the foot of the tree across from hers.
I resisted the urge to correct her. "Should you really be one to talk?"
Roxy gave me a dry smile. "Maybe not, but it doesn't make it any less true."
A fair point, one that I conceded. After all, I was very much a practitioner of the same philosophy—doing as one says, not as they do. Taking my own advice was something I never excelled at.
There was a rustling of the bushes, and a pale leg stepped through the edge of the clearing next to us. A familiar skirt followed, and then Zenith emerged from the tree line, a small basket clutched in her hands. Her presence wasn't unexpected—both Roxy and I had sensed her approach—but what surprised me was her appearance.
She had been ill for a few days, and the woman had retreated to her bedroom since our last meeting in order to recuperate. At that point, she had never looked quite unhealthy, but there had always been a sort of... tumultuousness to her presence, a certain unease that seemed to radiate from her very being.
The change in her now was subtle but unmistakable. The constant undercurrent of anxiety that had characterized her for as long as I could remember had diminished. She moved with a newfound steadiness, her steps a bit more purposeful, her posture straighter. The shadows beneath her eyes had lightened, and her gaze, when it met mine, held a clarity that I found both unexpected and somewhat disconcerting. Whatever internal storm had been raging within her seemed to have abated slightly, its tides calmed to more manageable swells.
How strange. For years, I had grown accustomed to navigating around her fragility. At least, that was always what I had told myself, citing that my presence and words may not necessarily be the solution to her problem.
"I brought some food," Zenith announced. "Lilia mentioned that it has been a few hours since you started training. I imagine you both must starting to be hungry."
She approached and set the basket down on a flat stone between Roxy and me. Steam wafted through the air, a delicious aroma filling the clearing. From the smell, I could tell that the remnants of Alice's cooking from earlier were in the basket, but there also seemed to be some fresh stew as well.
Roxy stood up immediately, the muted and melancholic air around her gone before nodding appreciatively. "Thank you, Lady Zenith. That's very thoughtful. I am Roxy Migurdia. It's a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance," she said with a polite smile.
Zenith returned the gesture. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Migurdia. Paul has spoken highly of your abilities. I heard that the monster attack on the village was stopped before it even truly began in no small part to your efforts." Her eyes flickered briefly to me before moving towards the crown of blue hair on Roxy's head. If she had any prejudice, she hid it perfectly. "Paul said that you agreed to tutor my son. Thank you—we had been meaning to find a suitable instructor after seeing some of Shirou's talents."
"It's no burden, I assure you. His potential is remarkable. He'll grow up strong for certain. I have not met or heard of anyone who could match his capabilities at his age," Roxy replied.
"That's good to hear. The world is a dangerous place. Knowing that he'll be safe is a great comfort to me."
…I was impressed. The firmness of her words and evenness in her tone was surprising. It was almost like when I first met her instead of the woman I had seen her regress into over the years.
Was this a sign? A few days of withdrawing from me, and the bulk of the mental deterioration she had sustained was now healed. How interesting—perhaps my presence truly wasn't part of the answer all along.
An awkward silence fell as Zenith and my gaze accidentally met each other's. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the weight of the entirety of my early life freezing my tongue and sending my thoughts into a jumbled mess.
"You… look better," I finally said, immediately cringing the bluntness of my observation. Of course, I was not talking about her illness, not having had the proper reason to go see her during that time. However, it looked like Zenith knew that fact, and there was no illusion to what I was referring to.
Zenith paused, then offered a small smile. "I feel better. I've been resting properly and... I've been sorting my thoughts."
There was a momentary hesitation in her eyes, something unreadable passing across her features, but I saw her determination push through it. "How is the training progressing?" she asked, looking between Roxy and me.
"He is doing quite well," Roxy answered, her eyes shifting over to me before returning to Zenith. "He grasps concepts very quickly. People tend to be far more malleable when they're young, but his cognitive skills are remarkably advanced, even compared to an adult's."
"I'm not surprised," Zenith said with a small smile. True to her words, Zenith looked like she fully expected Roxy's response, and while I could see the hints of reservation on her face, it was a sharp change from what it had been before. "He has always been perceptive. He is the son of two S-ranked adventurers. Talent is in his blood."
Hesitation flashed through Roxy's face. "… I suppose so."
If Zenith saw it, she made no comment. The conversation hit a slight lull, and I could see Roxy almost start squirming in discomfort.
"Paul and I, we would like you to join us for breakfast tomorrow, if you would like," Zenith said after some moments of contemplation. "We can further discuss our arrangements then. Truthfully, we never expected to find a tutor so quickly, so I apologize that we might seem unprepared."
"N-No, I assure you that's not the case!" Roxy denied with a placating wave of her hands. "Your family has been very accommodating of my intrusion. If anything, I should be the one apologizing."
The two women looked at each other, and Zenith let out a quiet chuckle. "Well, I guess we can both agree to let bygones be bygones. There's no need for either of us to apologize."
Roxy nodded, visibly relaxing at Zenith's warmth. "I look forward to breakfast, then."
"Actually," Zenith added, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, "we have a spare room that's hardly used. If you would like, you're welcome to stay with us. It would be more convenient for breakfast as well."
Roxy seemed momentarily taken aback by the offer. "That's very kind of you, Lady Zenith. I wouldn't want to impose—"
"It's no imposition at all," Zenith assured her. "It seems only right to offer accommodations to my son's teacher. Besides," she added with a small smile, "I heard from Paul that you planned on camping outside. It would hardly be proper of me to let someone who helped the village not even have a roof of her head. Not to mention you two might train until it's quite late. It's a bit more convenient to return to the same place afterwards, no?"
"I see… In that case, I gratefully accept," Roxy replied with a slight bow, wilting under the pressure of Zenith's insistence. Generosity seemed to be a weakness of hers, it seemed.
"Excellent." Zenith's gaze drifted back to me, lingering for a moment with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. There was something searching in her look, but without much of the usual apprehension. "Well, that's all I had to say. We can talk more tomorrow. I'll let you two return to your training."
She turned to leave. However, after a few steps, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Migurdia. I'm glad my son found such a capable teacher."
Her eyes then shifted to me, lingering for just a moment longer than usual. "And Shirou… Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
The simple question carried a quiet weight to it, like a door being carefully, tentatively left ajar where before there had only been walls.
"… I will…"
Her eyes crinkled from the small smile on her lips, and despite the banality of the conversation between us, the air between us felt just a bit lighter.
"Then I'll be off." With a nod, Zenith left the clearing, leaving Roxy and I alone once again.
We weren't far from the Greyrat house, quite near where Paul and I had been training earlier, actually. Still, I tried to feel around for any nearby monsters just in case, though Roxy's own magical sensory abilities probably surpass my own, and seeing how she kept quiet, I doubt there was any danger.
Roxy waited until Zenith was definitely out of earshot before turning to me with raised eyebrows. "Your mother is quite different from what Paul described," she said quietly. "He made her sound more... brittle."
I considered her words as I reached for the basket Zenith had left. Inside were the sandwiches Alice had made earlier, reheated and warm to the touch, alongside slices of cured meat and a covered bowl of stew.
"She had been ill recently," I said finally, grabbing one of the sandwiches, "But she seems better now. However, Paul's assessment is not necessarily incorrect."
"Oh? That's a strange remark to make about your mother."
The sandwich paused in this ascent before I bit down on it. "My presence tends to cause issues. I never quite knew how to remedy the situation, but it looks like things have sorted themselves out. After all, the results speak for themselves," I said, waving a hand towards the direction Zenith had left towards.
Azure orbs pierced through me, and Roxy grabbed one of the bowls in the basket and poured some of the stew into it. The food was freshly made, and Roxy took in a deep whiff of its scent before grabbing a spoon from the basket and helping herself to her dinner.
"I find you so very fascinating," she said after lowering the bowl.
I raised an eyebrow at her words. "Oh? I'm glad I could be of some entertainment to you."
Roxy rolled her eyes. "I find it fascinating," she repeated, "how your mind works. It's obvious you're not normal, but even with our brief time together, I continually find myself surprised at how you subvert my expectations."
"Then I hope I'll continue to surpass your expectations," I said dryly.
"Subvert, not surpass," she corrected. "There's a difference. Not necessarily a bad one, mind you. I suppose it all depends on the situation. Like I said, I find it fascinating. In this case—the conclusion you drew earlier."
"Is what I said really so offensive?"
"… Saddening, is the word I would use." Roxy looked like she had swallowed a lemon. "And… you should be nicer to your mother."
How strange. In our short time spent together, Roxy had not made a request as overt as this one. She had always let me handle things as I saw fit—covering for me last night, letting me decide when and how to reveal my powers. This was different. This was a plea, subtle yet serious, that crossed the invisible line we'd both carefully danced around until now.
I studied her face. No anger. Just concern. Maybe disappointment.
"Well, that depends," I said, voice cool. "What does being 'nicer' entail? I already help out around the house, doing chores, making meals, cleaning clothes. From an objective standpoint, I'm quite nice, actually."
Roxy cocked her head curiously at my statement but said nothing, content to let me continue.
"Does it mean I should smile more? Should I speak more childishly? Should I refer to her as my mother? Should I tell her everything is fine, that things will magically sort themselves out at the end?"
I understood Roxy's perspective. From the outside, my treatment of Zenith must seem cold, perhaps even cruel. A child distancing himself from a mother who clearly sought connection. But what Roxy couldn't understand was the weight of deception that hung between us—the fact that every gentle moment, every maternal gesture from Zenith was directed at someone who didn't truly exist. The child she wanted to nurture had never been born.
More than that, I knew the pain of false hope. I had seen firsthand how reassurances built on lies could destroy people when reality finally caught up to them. I had promised to save them all once. Instead, I brought only oblivion.
Memories flashed through my head, and this time, the grimace on my face was something I couldn't hide.
The forest around me was gone, replaced by that damned cavern. There was barely any light, the only illumination coming from the source of the nightmare further within. But I didn't need to see that far anyway, the focus of my gaze squarely on the five bodies standing before me.
Their corpses had decayed since I last saw them, but their features were still easily recognizable even in this state. Their eyes were gone, nothing in their sockets except for black holes that seemed to suck in my very soul and endless streams of blood that slowly pooled around our feet.
And then their mouths opened.
"Just come back, Saber. Back to us, back to me," the one in the center said. However, its voice was not the one whose appearance it copied but was instead my own.
"Fine. I'll save you, then I'll save her." This time, the voice came from the far right, the tall corpse with clumps of purple strands clinging to its skull. However, just like before, its voice was my own, and I cringed at the reminder of what I had said and the result of it.
"But for now, just live." Middle-left, standing next to her sister. Just like before, it was another one of fate's cruel tricks, placing them together only in death and in this twisted vision.
"You're going to die! Doesn't that mean anything to you?! Don't you want to live?!" The emotion in the words were exactly the same as when I had said them myself, sharply contrasting with the blank expression on the short body's face.
I turned to the last one, who had not yet spoken, the corpse that was supposed to represent the twin-tailed magus, but no words left its mouth, its jaw remaining open but nothing else as bloody holes stared back at me.
I scoffed.
Another painful reminder that I had not been in time for her.
I blinked hard, forcing the vision back to where it belonged—in the past. Roxy was staring hard at me, her lips pulled into a tight line but otherwise allowing me the space to recollect myself without comment.
"Don't you think you're being too arrogant?" Roxy asked finally after a few moments of silence.
Her words caught me off-guard. "Oh? Do tell."
"You're not as good an actor as you think you are," she said, her voice matter-of-fact rather than accusatory.
It was a valid point. I knew from my effect on the Greyrat family that I was never particularly good at giving them the comfort they wanted.
Roxy's gaze remained steady. "You perform the role you think others want to see, but your true self shows through the cracks. Maybe more than you realize." She paused. "We all wear masks sometimes. It's how we navigate the world. But the best performers know when to set the mask aside."
She looked up at the darkening sky, her expression softening and her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "It's a dangerous line to tread. Play the role enough, and you might just become the very mask you wear. Then, when the world itself tells you you're one thing, at what point do you finally become what it wants you to be?" Roxy continued.
For someone like Roxy, who had to continually weather the storm of curses and suspicion directed towards her, I'm sure she knew just what exactly it meant to wear a mask.
"It's hard, finding yourself, staying true to your identity, making sure that you're you because of you and not because of what people tell you that you are. It's like reaching into a pond, grasping for your reflection beneath the surface, but the waters keep rippling, and every time you think you've found it, someone throws another stone, and you have to start all over again."
Her eyes took on a distant look, gazing beyond the trees surrounding us. For a moment, I glimpsed the weight of her own experiences behind her words.
"When you spend too long like that, you start to vanish little by little until one day, you look in the mirror and realize there's nothing left behind the mask you've been wearing."
I took in her words underneath a deep silence before feeling my lips quirk. "… How profound. Did you practice that speech while looking at that same mirror?"
Roxy blinked at my comment before letting out a chuckle, her eyes regaining their focus as she regarded me with unexpected warmth. "No, but I'd be lying if I said I never gave it a substantial amount of thought."
There was Roxy the Adventurer, the lone survivor of the closest thing to hell this world had experienced so far. There was Roxy the Demon, someone who wandered around the outskirts of human society, unable to truly fit in. How many more did she wear? How much did she favor each mask? Or perhaps the most important question—which one was I talking to right now?
"What I'm trying to say is that even if you do try to act around Zenith, I doubt you'd succeed. Your personality is far too distinctive to hide completely behind any mask. There's something... unmistakable about you that shows through regardless of how you present yourself."
"… Thanks…?"
"Regardless, there's meaning in trying to stumble through these matters with your mother, and she might appreciate the attempt. Of course, it's not as if I don't understand your concern. I agree that what's best doesn't always mean being agreeable. Sometimes people need to be able to stand on their own two feet, and sometimes people need the honest truth instead of placations."
"… But…?" I prompted, sensing her unfinished thought.
Roxy studied me for a moment, her blue hair swaying gently in the evening breeze. "But the issue here isn't that. You said that Zenith was more fragile before, right?" Her gaze flickered to the basket of food Zenith had left. "It must have taken an extraordinary amount of courage and strength to have patched herself together enough to give you a small gesture such as this."
She tapped her staff against the ground, emphasizing her next words. "Don't you think a show of faith deserves to be reciprocated with a genuine response?"
The question hung in the air between us, the implications of her question weighing heavily on me, whether Roxy knew it or not.
"…Even if it's not what she may want?" I finally asked, my voice quiet.
"… I think she wants the real Shirou more than anything else."
I met Roxy's gaze directly. "Do you think she can handle it?"
"You underestimate your mother if you believe her to be some weak piece of glass. She's trying even now, isn't she?" She gestured toward the basket again. "But let's just say that this attempt fails miserably and nothing is achieved. Does the idea of failure prevent you from trying in the first place?"
Roxy's eyes narrowed, her voice taking on an intensity I hadn't heard before. "Life gives nothing to those unwilling to fight for it. To gain anything worthwhile, you must risk something in return. That's how it's been since the beginning of time and how it will be for all of eternity." Her eyes locked with mine, unyielding. "If you can't handle something like this, then you can forget succeeding in anything."
I shot Roxy a sharp glare, and for a brief moment, a look of panic crossed her face.
Then, just as quickly, her expression softened into a smile. "Ah, there it is. I liked that look on your face. It's good to see that stoic expression being pulled back more and more, though I would appreciate it if you calmed down a bit more. You'll bring down another horde on our heads at this rate."
I scoffed but didn't deny her words. What Roxy said was correct, as much as I disliked admitting it. Back in that cavern, my dream had shattered under reality's weight, but in clearing away those broken pieces, perhaps I had discarded things worth keeping as well.
"Was that really necessary?" I asked, though there was no real heat behind my words.
The magician shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling with casual grace. "Anger sometimes helps to clear your emotions. I would know; it's how I awakened my eyes, after all," she said, fingers brushing briefly against her face.
However, there was one thing that bothered me, a question that had lingered since she first broached the subject of my relationship with Zenith.
"Why are you so invested in this?" I asked, studying her face for any reaction. "Should a magic tutor really be interfering with familial matters like this?" There was no anger in my voice, no accusation, just pure curiosity.
Roxy was far too invested for someone who had only recently entered our lives. It was almost like there was something personal at stake for the magician. I doubt it was anything malicious, but it couldn't hurt to ask.
She met my gaze directly, her expression thoughtful as she seemed to consider how much to reveal. The evening light caught in her blue hair, giving it an almost ethereal quality as she thought of her response.
"…There was a girl once," Roxy said at last, voice low, almost distant. "Born in a village where everyone spoke without words. A quiet place. Peaceful, by most accounts."
I didn't speak. Her tone made it clear this wasn't a story just for me.
"She was different, though. She couldn't hear the voices that weren't spoken, couldn't speak in the way her people did. So the silence around her… wasn't peace. It was a prison."
Her fingers curled around the hem of her sleeve, just slightly.
"She stayed for a time, trying to listen, trying to pretend she didn't notice the glances or the pity. But when you live in a place where you're always looking in from the outside… eventually, even home began to feel like an exile. And so she left, chasing something she didn't have a name for. Freedom, maybe. Or a voice."
"…Did she ever find it?" I asked in a whisper after a few seconds.
"… She found magic," Roxy answered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And she was good at it. Too good. People started calling her things—genius, prodigy. Titles like that don't mean much, you know. But to someone who's spent their whole life unheard, even empty praise can feel warm."
I nodded once.
"By that point, she felt she was ready to take on more of the world. She joined a group and made friends. For a time, she thought maybe that was enough. Even if she didn't belong at the beginning, maybe she could carve a place for herself out there."
Her voice softened, barely audible now.
"Then there was a job. Investigate the unknown disturbance, they asked, along with a reward great enough that it would have been stupid to turn it down. She felt that it was the next milestone in her life, something to stoke the fire within her. She gathered her friends once again, along with many other adventurers, and accepted."
A beat of silence.
"They never returned."
She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to.
"Only she survived, and the silence she had always ran from followed her."
I looked down at the dirt. "And after?"
"She wandered, looking for something she still couldn't name. But eventually… she realized something."
"What?"
"That the place she had always wanted to, she finally found it," Roxy said. "It was the home she left behind."
She paused.
"She wanted to go back to the ones she had left behind, to the parents she had abandoned, to tell them she was sorry, that there was nothing out there in the world but misery and suffering, that the only place she could feel at ease had been the very place she had deserted. And the greatest irony?"
Blue orbs cast a heavy gaze onto me.
"She couldn't go back, not anymore. It was only when she had found a piece of her answer that it was wrenched from her grasp just as quickly."
"… And you couldn't bear to see something similar happen again, huh?"
Roxy gave me a small smile. "Perhaps that. Or maybe I just didn't want to see something so sad. Is it really a sin to intrude on something like this?"
I took a deep breath, recalling just what had brought me here in the first place. It was a singular choice made, images of God and the shadows of his church looking down upon me as I swore to fight in a war no one knew existed, all to perhaps save lives who would never know my battles, all without being granted any sort of reward.
The choice that I made, the decision that had given me everything I had lost… What it a mistake?
"I suppose not," I said, and sapphire orbs twinkled in response.
"Why? Do you have issues with me trying to intrude more into your life?"
"Don't put words in my mouth," I said with a roll of my eyes. How cheeky. It reminded me of Tohsaka. Then again, perhaps that wasn't a bad thing.
Another pregnant silence overcame us, my mind racing to navigate through the labyrinth of emotions around my heart.
The obligation of seeking out the Holy Grail superseded everything else, and time was not a luxury I was afforded. It had been for that reason that I was paralyzed when it came to trying to help Zenith. She wanted someone who didn't exist. The person who had the capacity to change, to be more had died in that cavern along with everyone else—No, perhaps he had never existed in the first place.
I could have lied and pretended, that was for certain, but that in itself was its own form of cruelty. Even if the performance was flawless, one day I'd be gone—and she would be left wondering what she did wrong.
But what I was currently doing also had its own faults. Namely that it didn't solve the problem, only postponing one issue while exacerbating another.
"And thank you… for everything…"
"—Thank you… for forgiving me."
The words echoed in my mind—Paul's pained gratitude, Sylphiette's soft sincerity. Moments where I had reached out instead of turning away, had chosen to answer the call from my heart instead of warnings in my head.
If I resolved myself to amend things with Zenith, it would mark the third promise I'd made in this new life. Another bond, another weight. Another thread tying me to this world—not as an outsider, not as a wanderer passing through—but as someone rooted here. Someone living here.
But could I truly bring myself to keep pushing her away? To pretend my indifference shielded her from hurt? I had answered Paul's offer. I had listened to Sylphiette's plea. And now, when Roxy had asked me not to repeat her mistake, how could I pretend that I didn't hear?
At this point, I had to be honest with myself and admit that I could never truly turn people away. And perhaps I never could.
I sighed.
The hero's journey was a solitary one—one devoid of meaning or reward, an eternal march towards an impossible ideal. Archer had shown me that truth, and in my quest to prove him wrong, I had stumbled and fell to the harsh earth.
Yet here I stood, despite everything I experienced, already bound by more promises.
A life without compromise.
It was an insane idea, one Archer had condemned as madness when we faced each other across the bloody altar of our shared ideals. To surpass heroism's curse—whatever that meant—that was the impossible mission he had entrusted to me.
In the end, I failed him. I failed all of them.
Another sigh.
What had I even learned in that cavern? Nothing? It certainly felt so.
I didn't have the answer. Not yet. Perhaps I was truly doomed to fail over and over.
But as I gazed toward the house where Zenith waited, I knew I couldn't continue as I had been—suspended in indecision, causing pain through inaction.
To walk the impossible line once again. To write the ending Archer and Kiritsugu never could. To fulfill an ideal that never could be. To defy fate and spit in destiny's face.
It was arrogance of the highest order, believing I was the sole exception, that I could succeed where a stronger, more determined version of myself had already failed once before.
"That was your third sigh in a row. Does the idea of trying to be a better son to your mother pain you so?" Roxy called out across from me. Her eyes gleamed with mirth, lips curled in a wry smile.
"It's not that, just—" I sighed again, catching myself too late "—just something else."
Roxy studied me with an intensity that made me wonder if I'd revealed too much of myself in these unguarded moments. "You speak like someone much older than you appear," she observed quietly. "Well, I won't pry. After all, it's not as if I'm some kind of saint. I tend to hide my fair share of secrets as well."
I tensed involuntarily. Her expression held no suspicion—only that same penetrating curiosity.
"I wouldn't have guessed, considering how you've treated us."
"Only because I was shown kindness first. It's a rarity nowadays." Her voice softened. "It would have been poor form to not return it. Honesty goes a long way. You and I are proof of this, no?"
I didn't respond immediately. My thoughts drifted to yesterday—to that fateful meeting between where, where the weight of my choice hung on my shoulders
A simple gesture. One small choice.
And yet…
Had I turned her away, had I remained closed off and silent, as I always had… what would have become of it? It had only been a single day, and still, her presence had carved a space in my life that felt much older.
As always, the future is built on choices made in moments that feel small. Decisions I could be making right now could eventually turn the world upside down.
"I suppose," I said plainly.
Roxy's eyes lingered on me for a moment before she abruptly shifted her focus back to the task at hand. "Well, we should be getting back to the topic at hand. It's quite dark, and our first magic tutoring session is about to end," she said, standing back up and noting the darkness above us.
"Is there anything left to even cover? I believe we've well established that I cannot cast any traditional magic." Attack, Healing, and Summoning spells had all proved incompatible with my magic circuits. I already knew the futility of this exercise, but if Roxy wanted to continue, it would only be a waste of time and energy. "Actually, speaking of that, why did you tell Zenith that we were making good progress in my magic studies? I can understand commenting on my potential, but you made a rather overly optimistic assessment, no? It seems rather insincere."
"I didn't lie. We are making good progress," Roxy replied, her fingers absently tracing patterns on her staff as she spoke. "As it stands, I have instilled within you the fundamentals of our current understanding of magical theory."
Roxy then vaguely gestured towards me with a wave of her hand. "In any case, you're four-years-old, Shirou," she reminded, her tone matter-of-fact. "The fact that I did not have to re-explain or rephrase my lecture at any point is a miracle in itself. While admittedly I expected a bit... more considering your capabilities with your own brand of magic, it is only our first session. You are already an established magical prodigy by any reasonable standard. Truthfully, you could remain as is, unable to cast any orthodox spells, relying solely on your sword magic, and you would still be a better magician than all but a handful of people."
Being labeled as a prodigy was still incorrect, but from their perspective, it must have been anything but. Ultimately, my current abilities were simply the advantage of retaining my memories and soul along with my magecraft.
"That's a lofty complement. You certainly have faith in my capabilities."
"It's not a complement, just a frank observation," Roxy disagreed with a shake of her head. She tilted her head slightly, humming contemplatively before her expression shifted and she closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, I felt the now-familiar sensation of the magician pouring mana into her eyes, the air around them shimmering slightly with magical energy.
"Here, produce one of your swords, please," she requested.
I raised an eyebrow but didn't question it, wordlessly holding out a hand. Blue motes of light coalesced, and an instant later, the handle of a steel longsword hit the palm of my hand with a satisfying weight.
It was nothing special, just the favored weapon of some soldier of a time long ago. It was as ordinary as could be, nothing remarkable of note—a standard sword with a simple cross guard and leather-wrapped hilt.
Roxy peered at the projection, and I could see her illuminated eyes darting along its length just like last night, her Demon Eyes no doubt showing her details that were completely invisible to anyone else.
"Take this for example," she gestured to the blade. "For you, this is a completely ordinary weapon. You conjured it as easily as you took a breath. For all intents and purposes, it's just a regular sword. However, if you take a deeper look..."
Roxy held out a hand, and I placed the projection in her grasp, eager to see where she was going with this. The magician failed to withhold a smile, looking like a child that had just received a new toy.
"Honestly, it's nothing like any traditional Attack or Summoning spell. It's not fully composed of mana. There's… something else in there," Roxy said, studying the blade with her luminous eyes. "The sword is more like a vessel, holding whatever magic you've imbued it with. It somewhat resembles barrier magic, but with countless layers intertwined in ways I can't fully comprehend." She turned the weapon carefully in her hands. "This is more of an artifact than a weapon—more fitting sitting in a research facility in Ranoa or Millis than being slung around at monsters."
That… was an eerily accurate assessment of my projection magecraft.
"If I try to examine just one of these layers—" Her face tightened with concentration, a single bead of sweat tracing down her temple. "—the sensory input becomes overwhelming. The complexity of the layers is too much." With a slight wince, her eyes panned away, massaging her eyeballs with her free hand.
I dismissed the sword with a gesture, the projection dissolving into motes of blue light.
"And you do it all without incantations," Roxy observed, composing herself. "You're manipulating mana consciously through your body. Silent casting alone is rare enough, but this level of complexity without verbal focus?" She shook her head slightly. "If that doesn't qualify as genius, I don't know what would."
There was a slight fault in her analysis, but the reasoning was still sound enough. The tracing process was automated by my reality marble; what Roxy saw was merely the end result of me bringing the projection from my soul into reality.
"Well, it's rather backwards, being able to cast such high-level magic with ease yet left unable to use the most basic of spells. I suppose the world loves to indulge in this sort of irony."
Truer words had never been spoken.
"If I had to guess, the irregularity of your soul and body are what allow you to cast your magic—magical energy runs through the structures embedded within you, and you've instinctively created a method of spellcasting to work with these unique pathways," Roxy said matter-of-factly. She pursed her lips in contemplation before glancing up to meet my gaze.
…
Wait what the—
The spellbook slipped from my grasp, landing on the forest floor with a dull thud. The clearing fell eerily quiet—no rustling leaves, no distant birdsong, not even the whisper of wind through branches, the world itself pausing while Roxy's words echoed through my mind.
I forced myself to speak, my voice emerging strained. "What exactly do you mean about... irregularities in my soul and body?"
"Oh, that?" Roxy said innocently before her expression shifted, confidence giving way to sudden embarrassment. "Ah, it's one of those secrets I mentioned earlier." Her cheeks flushed slightly as she averted her gaze from mine. "During our discussion about my Demon Eyes, I wasn't entirely forthcoming."
Roxy's fingers found the brim of her hat, tugging it downward to partially shield her face. "They allow me to sense mana flow even in their passive state, yes, but that's merely their basic function," she explained, words coming more rapidly than her usual measured pace. "When I channel energy into them deliberately, the effect strengthens—I can perceive magical currents at greater distances and with finer detail."
Her voice lowered, taking on a more confessional tone. "However, if I pour enough mana into them—"
The air between us seemed to shiver, and sapphire orbs deepened into twin moons, radiating light just like when we first met last night.
I couldn't suppress a frown as those luminous eyes fixed on me, my jaw clenching involuntarily in discomfort.
"—and I start to see even deeper. This level is where your unique status becomes obvious." Her voice took on a reverent quality, as if she were describing something holy. "Your body is completely covered with lines of magical energy. Where everyone else's mana almost ebbs and flows, yours travels along defined channels. They appear to function as conduits, allowing you to control and circulate your energy with remarkable precision, though that's merely my theory."
The petite magician tapped a slender finger against her chin.
"It makes perfect sense now—it's an entirely different magical system," she continued, confidence building in her voice. "No wonder traditional spellcasting doesn't work for you. You've been subconsciously using these pathways all this time, so adapting incantations to work with your unique structure will require significant experimentation. However, even this peculiarity pales in comparison to what else I can see within you."
Suddenly, Roxy stepped forward, closing the distance between us. I tensed, but she paid me no mind, pressing her palm directly against my chest.
"Everyone has a soul composed of mana," she said, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "Normally, I perceive them only as faint impressions unless I focus intently as I am now. But yours..." Her eyes narrowed, the blue glow intensifying. "Yours isn't made of mana at all, but something else entirely."
Her fingers splayed slightly against my chest, as if trying to capture more of whatever she was sensing. "From what I can tell, it's the same as the darkened aura of the monsters you fought except on a magnitude even greater, the same filth that came pouring out of the site of the Cataclysm."
A chill shot down my spine. My blood ran cold, my pulse pounding so loudly it almost drowned out her words.
Soul. Filth. Cataclysm.
Was she saying what I think she was saying?
The implications were heavy. I played every exchange with the mysterious woman over the past two days over and over in my mind—every glance, every gesture, every word now cast in a new light. This woman, she—!
"And all this time, you knew?" My voice was quiet, almost choked out of my throat.
Roxy tilted her head at me. "If you're referring to your strange composition, then yes, I knew from the start. I assumed that you wanted to hide it, so I never brought it up."
The questions that had haunted me through two lifetimes came crashing forward. The reason why I was so different, the cause for the bottomless void within me, an explanation that eluded both Tohsaka and Illyasviel, the most knowledgeable magi I knew.
Was it only now, in this new world, that I could finally able to find my answers?
"My soul… what does it look like to you…?" There was an almost desperate edge to my voice, like a dying man seeing an oasis in the desert.
Roxy raised an eyebrow before answering, her expression softening with something like wonder. "Like the night sky."
She stepped back, studying me before tilting her face upward. Following her gaze, I noticed the evening had deepened around us, the sky transformed into an inky canvas where the first stars had begun to emerge, scattered diamonds against velvet darkness.
"It's like a hazy black mist, nebulous and mysterious," she continued, her voice taking on a contemplative quality. "I can't get a proper grasp of it. Even with my enhanced vision, I can't fully analyze its nature. Perhaps with greater focus I could see more, but I don't need to peer that deeply to see what matters."
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, though it carried an edge of fear. "You know, when I first glimpsed you and your soul, I was genuinely shaken. The darkness, it reminded me of back then, when I was so weak and powerless, watching as everything all around me burned down to ashes and corrupted monsters ripped and tore apart people I had drank and laughed alongside with limb by limb. Truthfully, I was moments away from trying to blast you away with my magic."
A natural reaction to a living weapon. I couldn't blame her. However, I was still stuck on her earlier words.
The taint of the grail, the essence of Angra Mainyu, infused into my soul.
The thing that ruined Sakura. The curse that twisted Tohsaka's fate. The nightmare that haunted Illyasviel and consumed Saber. The fire that had forged me.
And it was inside me all along?
She had no reason to lie. But still—I didn't want to believe her. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe her eyes saw something else. Maybe there were similarities, but no connection.
That strange source of mana within me that I discovered in my first training session? No, it didn't feel anything like the Persian god of darkness.
Maybe, maybe, maybe—
Each explanation tried to hold, but I could feel them crumbling, one by one.
There was an itch in my chest. A slow, creeping sickness. The kind that settled in when denial no longer worked.
… It wasn't impossible. The summoning of Angra Mainyu was a product of the Third Magic, the manipulation of souls. Corrupting my soul during the reincarnation process wasn't farfetched.
No, there was a far simpler explanation.
"… What stopped you?"
If her words were true, then I was the very thing that had ruined her life and a part of the spreading disaster of this world. In her shoes, I would have—
"If I disappear, would you be okay with that?"
The image came unbidden—Sakura's pale face turned toward mine, her smile so heartbreakingly brittle in the moment she had given up. That small, trembling figure, sinking into despair, into the dark.
I saw myself reaching for her hand, refusing to let go.
"Even if you're covered in sin… I'll still save you."
Bile rose up from my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing the burning sensation back down as memories threatened to overwhelm me. How many times would I face this same choice from different angles?
Unaware of the turmoil within my head, Roxy paused for a few moments. "Because you looked trustworthy," she said finally.
I furrowed my brows, a grimace spreading on my face. "You would overlook everything just because of that? Even if I could be a threat?" My voice rose into a slight hiss in incredulity at her words.
Roxy remained silent for several moments. The night breeze intensified, sending ripples through her blue hair and causing her robes to dance around her slender form. A look of melancholy crossed her features, tinged with regret and pity.
"If you were truly some monster, then I doubt that there would be much of a village left when I first arrived here. And yet here you stand, a child barely to my chest, looking like the weight of the world is crashing on your shoulders. Really, it's hard to see you as a threat when you look like you want nothing more than to cry," Roxy answered softly. "It's only our second day together, but in that time, you've show me your courage, your strength, and the bonds that you've created in your short life. It's not perfect—nothing ever is—but what you've built here is hardly the work of a monster."
Faces flickered through my mind, one after another.
Paul's tear-streaked face during our reconciliation.
Laws's crooked grins.
Alice's teasing smirks that always carried a knowing edge.
Sylphiette's trembling voice, thick with gratitude.
Lilia's rare but earnest nods of approval.
Even Zenith—her gentle, tentative smiles—rose to the surface.
Each image struck like a blade, and with every word Roxy spoke, the weight of their trust carved deeper into me.
"That doesn't explain it," I denied, eyes narrowing. "You met me first, before you saw me with them. So why didn't you turn away then?"
I hadn't meant for it to sound accusatory, but a part of me needed the answer—needed to know what she saw that made her stay.
Roxy didn't flinch. If anything, her expression softened.
"Because within the darkness... there is light," she said, her voice quiet, almost reverent. "Like countless stars, scintillating and twinkling with desperate determination—each one pushing back against the endless darkness. On their own, they seem so small, so fragile, but together… they form something so much more. A canvas of infinity. A backdrop of limitless possibilities. Like watching the birth, life, and death of a thousand stars unfolding all at once across the boundless night."
Those azure orbs fixed upon me with quiet intensity, the smile of her cherry red lips causing them to crinkle into slivers of moonlight.
The silence between us stretched, filled with unspoken weight as I absorbed what she had revealed and what to do next. In contrast, Roxy seemed perfectly at peace, a small smile on her face as she gazed upwards, the stars reflected in her eyes.
"You know, there's a certain irony to my life," she said, breaking the silence. "I left my village because of a gap I could never bridge. Then I gained these eyes, and suddenly I could see the world in ways I couldn't have imagined before."
She extended her palm upward, as if trying to catch starlight in her hand. "But they turned out to be nothing more than a curse." A bitter smile crossed her lips as she lowered her hand. "I can never truly turn them off, so over time, I began to see people as their magical signatures than themselves, the patterns and flow of mana in their bodies more familiar to me than their faces or voices."
A shadow passed over her features as she clenched tightly onto her staff. "A different kind of blindness, perhaps more dangerous because its insight is ultimately fake, nothing more than an illusion. When I realized that, these eyes became another wall, another prison of isolation, and the understanding I always wanted became forever out of reach."
The difference between knowing and understanding, I thought once again. For Roxy, who wanted to connect with people, her eyes were only a hinderance. There would always be some sort of imbalance between her and the people she around her, the same one between her and the people of her village, and no genuine relationship could come out of that.
The sounds of the forest fading to a distant murmur as her voice grew softer and more intimate. "At least, that's what I thought. Then I met you. I can see your magical energy—even the light and darkness of your soul—but nothing more than that. And yet, somehow, that blindness lets me see you more clearly than anyone else."
Her gaze returned to mine, searching, as if trying to find confirmation of her theory in my expression.
"Isn't that ironic?" she continued, faint amusement entering her voice. "I always felt like I was an outsider, seeing things others couldn't—even before I received these eyes. But now, for once in my life, I feel like I'm finally standing beside someone, even in spite of what I am." She tilted her head, blue locks falling across one eye. "It's… different, more genuine than anything I've felt before."
I didn't disagree. Maybe for her, it started with what she saw with those eyes of hers—but for me, the pull always went beyond that from the very beginning. Whatever had brought us together, we had both silently acknowledged that our connection had transcended the reach of her vision, becoming something neither of us could explicitly name.
The realization settled between us like the dew forming on the grass—quiet, gradual, yet undeniable in its presence.
And it was with that fragile warmth blooming within my chest that I made my decision.
"I want you to make me a promise."
A dainty eyebrow rose, its owner staring evenly at me. "Oh? Pray, do tell."
Emiya Shirou had never been normal. The emptiness I always felt, the void that my ideals had filled—it was something more fundamental, something woven into the very fabric of my existence, and if Roxy was to be believed, then maybe I finally knew the reason for it.
Angra Mainyu had always been a part of me, that much I could say with growing certainty. Its corruption had become so thoroughly diffused through my soul that I could no longer distinguish it from myself. That was why I couldn't feel it. At this point, it was simply a part of my own nature.
But the others had always sensed it. Even in this new life, that darkness hadn't vanished. It was hard to forget Lilia's dark looks, Paul's frank suspicion, or even Zenith's fragile smiles. They pushed back their reservations, but now it was up to me to make sure that trust was not ill-founded.
"In the future, in case I lose myself… I want you to stop me."
To be my sheath, that was what Saber and the others had promised, never faltering underneath the weight of the wishes I carried. For someone whose life was saved by the sword, who merged with a sword, and lived their life as a sword, it was an oath made in accordance with the ideals that bonded us together, almost a deal made with the devil they themselves had sworn to destroy.
But they were gone now. Or maybe, not truly. Perhaps their memories alone would be enough.
But Emiya Shirou had never walked alone—another lesson I had lost in that cavern.
Roxy's eyes bore into mine. For a moment, she was perfectly still, weighing the gravity of what I'd asked. Then with a lethargic sigh, she twirled the staff in her hand and softly bumped its tip against my head.
Bonk
"Was that supposed to hurt?" I asked flatly.
"Really," she said, her eyebrow raised, "asking me something like that—you should stop being so dramatic." She shook her head in disbelief. "A four-year-old asking me to kill him in case he can't control his powers. Now I've really seen it all," she scoffed.
I gave a noncommittal shrug. "So is that a no?"
Roxy groaned and rubbed slow, deliberate circles against her temple, muttering just loud enough for me to hear, "Ah, we were doing so well... I even said I didn't like sad things…"
Then she straightened, sighing again. "Well, regardless I understand what you're saying, even if I disagree with it. If you feel that strongly about it, then I suppose as your teacher, it's my responsibility to keep you in check, even if your request is wildly unreasonable. But—" she held up a finger, eyes sharpening "—there's one small, glaring problem with your request."
"What's that?"
"You're a combat specialist," Roxy stated bluntly, gesturing at me with her staff. "It's only a matter of time before your name is counted among the Seven Great Powers. You already have the speed and strength of an elite swordsman like Paul combined with the range and firepower of a high-tier mage. How can you expect me to keep up with you in the future? Even if I've been in my fair share of fights, I'm an adventurer first and foremost, not a warrior."
She brought up a good point. From what I'd observed, magicians in this world seemed limited by their lack of physical prowess and their current understanding of the magical casting process.
If that was the case, then the solution was obvious.
"Earlier, you said that the underlying structures in my body and soul let me have a specific way of casting spells, right?" I asked, the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind.
Roxy nodded, curiosity replacing her earlier concern.
"I disagree," I said. "I think it's something you can learn."
The petite demon raised an eyebrow, surprise evident in her expression. "What do you mean?"
I met her gaze, trace of a smirk tugging at my lips. "How would you like to learn how to silent cast?"
A/N: Leave it to me to have a perfectly written chapter then spend another week introducing some spicy plot points because I thought it was a cool idea. Regardless, I managed to trim a decent part of this chapter out, around 1.5k words while having the whole "Shirou is a part of Angra Mainyu" thing introduced. To be clear, I always intended that to be the case. The whole poetic nonsense I've been saying this entire time about people feeling wrong about him is an allusion to that. If you read that one chapter of my other story on Ao3, then this is what I was hinting towards when I said that Shirou is this one's endgame.
Well, regardless of how well or poor of a job I've done at not making this feel like an asspull, I'm sure there's going to be hordes of Nasuverse fans frothing at the mouth to say that this doesn't make sense, doesn't align with canon, etc etc etc. I actually got one recently, though I think the guy is slightly confused. Well, regardless at this point I can't do anything to avoid it so… *shrug*
Okay, so if you want to know why I chose to make him quasi-grail, it's to really add onto the whole "vessel for others, container of wishes, etc" thing I got going on. It's been a hot minute since I read Hollow Ataraxia but the parallels between Angra Mainyu and Shirou, both canon and the one I wrote, are too juicy to pass up on. In the end, here you go. At the very least, this gives Shirou something to chew on while he makes his way through the world.
Next, Roxy. She's been the focus for some chapters now and honestly it's time to take the foot off the gas pedal for her. She's been sufficiently developed, I feel, so now I need to be let on-the-nose with her and Shirou's connection. Hopefully it's not too annoying or drawn out. I was trying to make the whole Sword-Sheathe thing that Shirou and Saber got going on but it got out of hand. They are supposed to be fated much like Rudueus and Roxy, but I want to make sure their relationship is developed enough for my plans later. In any case, I'm an Eris fan so this is basically torture for me.
So, next steps are we're going to have a somewhat minor time skip. Still four, don't worry, but feel free to mentally correct that if you would like. I'm thinking a few months. Right now, there's Shirou and Roxy's training sessions, Shirou and Sylphiette's training sessions, Shirou and Paul's training sessions, Shirou and Zenith, and the usual side character stuff. It's a lot so I'll probably need to start jumping around. I laid down all the foundations for characters to develop so it's time to let them cook on their own instead of just showing every scene.
Oh and hopefully people aren't offended by how I interpreted Mushoku Tensei's magic system. There's not much from what I read and it's not really the focus of the series, so this is me taking liberties and having a character who is from a hard magic system try and interpret this new world's system. Silent casting is just the start, don't worry.
Alright, next chapter should open with Sylphiette/Shirou/Roxy's training session (yes at the same time) and then I'll need to lay down the seeds for Ghislaine and Eris to get in here. No timetable obviously.
Lastly, thank you all for the support for this story! Obviously I lost a lot of people with my quasi-rewrite but on an objective level, this story is still drawing in a decent amount of people. We are now at 200k words, which I honestly can't fathom because my favorite story is only like 280k and I still haven't finished the first arc but whatever, baby steps. It's certainly better than the progress in the first half of the story.
Okay, that's all. Please consider leaving a favorite and review, and as always, have a wonderful day!