Of Swords and Redemption

by Saber is a Cutie

His performance had been flawless. His painstaking perseverance had produced the perfect product. But no one has ever spoken of what might transpire once the last light had dimmed, for to them, the stage is fleeting. For one such as Emiya Shirou, who has acted for far too long, even the path back offstage had faded into dust, buried by the sands of time.

5. Chapter 5

The normally lively Greyrat house sat in silence, an ominous aura engulfing the household. There had always been a sort of strain within the family due to Zenith and Paul's refusal to meet eye to eye regarding certain matters, but it had slowly simmered down to a mild and more bearable weight that constantly burdened the two parents. However, this particular brand of unease was far more palpable, and the tension was thick enough that even I could notice it. Off to my side, Sylphiette was anxiously fidgeting, her feet shuffling in place and her hands clenching and unclenching air. I couldn't really blame her; the sort of atmosphere in the house right now was no place for a young girl like her. Especially since she had done nothing wrong, and she was, quite frankly, just collateral in this turn of events.

And the cause for such a disruption in the Greyrat household? None other than myself, of course. Fate wouldn't have it any other way.

Sylphiette and I were standing in the hallway of the second floor of the house. She was freshly washed and garbed in some old clothes I had lying around. At the time of the incident, she had just finished her bath and was getting ready to join us outside.

To my other side was the door to the master bedroom, the smooth and unassuming wood not betraying the chaos and tension on the other side. It has been closed for the past hour, not once opening since then, but from the clattering of bowls, splashes of water, and quiet hum of Zenith's healing magic, I could imagine what was going on inside.

After my unexpected trauma-induced breakdown, Paul had quickly fallen unconscious, succumbing to his injuries and slumping to a heap on the ground. His collapse had broken me out of my shock and spurred me to action, and after much difficulty and liberal application of reinforcement, I was able to drag the large man to the house.

Zenith's scream of panic was forever carved into my mind, Paul's name escaping out of her mouth in a sharp shrill. To her credit, Zenith's terror didn't last very long, and surprise had given way to years of veteran adventuring experience, muscle memory taking over while her mind worked in overdrive. She had quickly slung his other shoulder over hers, and we had hoisted him up the stairs together and placed him onto their bed. Lilia had not been idle during the process, swiftly cleaning the broken plates Zenith had dropped before gathering a bowl of water and rags. By the time we had set Paul down, she was waiting for us at the side of the bed and a wet cloth to clean the blood that flowed from Paul's mouth and nose.

After that, Zenith had gone to work, muttering a quick incantation before those familiar glowing hand settled on Paul's chest. She was trying her best to keep herself together, but one look at her trembling eyes and unsteady hands revealed she was anything but. Unsure of what to do next, both in terms of helping the recovery process and explaining exactly what had happened, I had hastily excused myself from the room before meeting a panic-stricken Sylphiette. She had bombarded me with questions, and I kept my responses short and vague, not exactly lying but not being completely truthful either, a moral loophole that Archer would have been proud of me exercising. Sylphiette had picked up on my reluctance to answer and stayed by my side in silence the entire time. Meanwhile, my brows were furrowed in thinking, trying to pick and claw through my brain for answer on what had happened.

Had my mental distortion reached even greater levels? Was I becoming a threat to the people around me? Would offing myself be a good idea?

Alas, I had many questions but far too little answers, and in the end, I had decided to meditate and ponder more later. For now, the topic of Paul's health and the upcoming discussion were more pressing matters, and it was those subjects that currently plagued my mind.

There was no way around it. I was no expert, but in my opinion, the tentative balance in the household was too broken to be repaired—at least, completely. Between my rather unique and erratic behavior, Zenith's dwindling sanity, and now this incident, one way or another, Zenith and Paul would need to decide for themselves: to continue working through this mess of emotions and hardship or cut their losses and separate altogether.

I let out an exasperated huff, annoyed that things were crashing down so quickly. Turmoil followed me everywhere I go, though I wasn't surprised by this point.

I focused my hearing and heard nothing through the door. Hopefully Paul had stabilized by now and would make a quick recovery. I didn't know much about the extent of Zenith's healing abilities, so this injury would be a good baseline to assess it. I didn't diagnose Paul's injury, but just from what I remember, the feeling of bone and tissue breaking underneath my sword, wooden or not, as well as the amount of force I put on the follow-through, I would guess at least a few ribs broken and several more bruised, a broken sternum, and damage to most of the internal organs in the torso. While this body was small, I had not held back in that strike, and my body was reinforced to the very brim in that moment. Had my sword been real, and the wooden blade held an edge of steel instead, I don't doubt that I would have sliced straight through Paul.

I stepped in front of the door, one hand forward and extended, clasping the doorknob in my fingers but not actually opening the door.

Hesitation gripped me, and not for the first time since arriving in this world, I questioned whether or not I should really be here.

Was it even right for me to show up? I was the one who put Paul in this condition in the first place, and while I never explained it to Zenith, I'm sure she can come to her own conclusions.

How would she react, I wonder, once she saw me? Zenith had always been favorable towards me, standing by me when no one else would. Would those eyes, which had been brimming with love and affection, burn with betrayal and grief at having the fragile balance of her life broken in such a violent manner? Or would they freeze over with apathy and indifference, the burden and stress of the world proving too much for her as her heart numbs itself to protect her? Or maybe the correct choice was to not even enter the room in the first place, recognizing that this incident has lost me my right to be in this house and abandon them, leaving Paul and Zenith to reconcile and heal without my troublesome self.

So many choices but not nearly enough wisdom to choose the correct one.

In the end, I chose to face the issue head-on, and mustering a great deal of willpower, I twisted the doorknob and opened the door.

Frigid blue eyes zeroed on me immediately, their owner's head whipping around at breakneck speeds at the source of the disturbance. I instinctively flinched, my hand clutching onto the doorknob just a little too hard for my liking. My other hand went to my chest as my heart skipped a beat from the familiar suffocating feeling of danger.

I wasn't even the least bit surprised from the accusatory gaze cast upon me. I deserved it after all.

It was a stark contrast from earlier, the doubt in her eyes far more prominent than before and yet paradoxically so, there was a certain degree of clarity in them as well, as if she had received an answer to a long-awaited question. I let out a silent, regretful sigh before tearing my eyes away from hers, unwilling to peer into that ocean of ice any longer than I had to.

Off to the side, I had noticed Lilia giving me a glance earlier, though hers was more questioning and curious compared to Zenith's, but I could still sense a hint of trepidation. I couldn't fault her though; I knew she was always a bit wary around me, though she always seemed to support me in the end, and I doubt me bringing in an injured Paul, who was no slouch of a warrior himself, helped her viewpoint of me.

A basin of water was sitting on the end table, half-full and discolored in red with blood as Lilia repeatedly wringed a rag over the container before dipping it back in. She gingerly wiped at the small trinkles of blood near Paul's mouth, carefully dabbing at the ribbons of crimson adorning his face. Her expression was tense yet calm, perhaps showing her employer a degree of warmth beyond mere professionalism.

On Paul's other side, Zenith was seated on a chair, her hands alight with the green mystical glow of healing magic as they hovered over Paul's chest. The rise and fall of his chest were much calmer now, no longer heaving and jerking unhealthily. In comparison to when I first dragged him into the house, he looked significantly better, all thanks to his faithful wife that had vigilantly nursed him back to good health. It spoke significantly of Zenith's character that it had taken only a glance for her to cross over to Paul with more urgency and speed than I had ever seen the woman with, barreling with no hesitation towards the man that had pushed her away. How would Paul react, I wonder, that the same woman he had accused of cheating on him all those years ago is the same one at his side now, working fervently to support him when he needed it the most?

Silence permeated the room, the heavy atmosphere bearing down upon the inhabitants of the Greyrat household, save for the light humming of healing magic as Zenith's palms were pressed against Paul's chest.

There were no words exchanged, yet despite the lack of talking, I already knew what was going through the heads of the two women in front of me. Not that talking would have done me much good anyway. I was never a good communicator, and misunderstandings were plentiful in my past life, and that's before the issue that I had no idea what to say in the first place. There was no defense I could put up, not that I wanted one anyway. Their suspicions go back much further than today, and this incident was merely the cherry on top of a large pile of inexplicabilities.

Ahhh, I've really screwed this up, haven't I?

I turned my attention to Paul, watching the peaceful rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest as my brows furrowed together in remorse and regret. Whether or not Zenith and Lilia—Paul too when he wakes up—could be persuaded that I wasn't a psychopathic killer, I wasn't sure. Still, while the injury itself didn't faze me at all—moreso the implication of my actions—perhaps now was the time to put the mask of a proper four-year-old and show that while I'm abnormal, I didn't mean them harm.

However, that fact didn't help mitigate at Zenith's scathing glare at all, somehow both scalding hot and unbearably cold at the same time, and even now I could sense her gaze out of the corner of my eye, trying its best to burn a hole through me before she ceded and turn her attention back to her patient. Lilia noticed the interaction between us and gave me an apologetic smile, though even that gesture was unsurprisingly tinged with uncertainty and hesitation.

That's fine. They seemed content to just silently accept what happened. It was befitting considering the mountain of mistakes I had already made. After all, in the face of the mountain of crimes I had committed in the past, what was one more?

"He'll make a full recovery. The damage was mostly internal, and the amount of blunt trauma was severe, but I was able to repair most of the damage." Her tone was distant, and I wasn't sure who exactly she was talking to. I looked at her to respond, but she had already turned back to Paul, focusing on healing him.

I let out an appreciative hum; to be able to heal Paul's injuries like that, Zenith must have been very skilled. Of course, it paled in comparison to the healing I was used to, Avalon outclassing the healing magecraft Zenith used, but the Divine Mystery of the Fae wasn't exactly something that could be taught or passed down easily. To be honest, I wasn't even sure if it even worked at this point, my connection to Saber and my previous world gone. With that in mind, learning some healing spells wouldn't be a terrible idea, provided I was even able to in the first place.

"Is there any lasting damage?" Lilia asked.

Zenith continued gazing down and away from me.

"I'm not skilled enough to heal all the damage, but with some time, Paul should be fine."

Her voice was quiet and subdued, her tone fatigued and face resigned, but whether it was from the strain of healing Paul or processing what had happened, I wasn't sure.

I nodded, unsure what else I could really say. Do I explain what happened now? Or would I talk myself into a corner? But if they themselves don't bring it up and I remain quiet, would this incident hang over our heads and burden their minds until it was resolved? I had already ruined this family just by existing; do I dare risk worsening the situation in an attempt to fix it?

I wouldn't put it past Zenith to pressuring me into talking. In fact, I expected it; when Sylphiette and I arrived at the house, it had been her to make me talk. It had been the first thing that came out of her mouth as soon as I got back.

So why wasn't she doing anything besides idly healing Paul? She was so… muted, a far cry from the enthusiastic and energetic woman I knew. Was the stress of the situation sapping away at her energy? Ah, I supposed that not everyone was as… numb to these types of circumstances as much as me. But Zenith was a seasoned adventurer… surely something like this wasn't enough to faze her, right? Or maybe I was giving her too much credit, and she wasn't as strong as I thought.

No, that wasn't fair to her, especially since the cause of her weakness is none other than me.

"Shirou, if I may ask, can you please explain what happened?"

In the end, it was neither Zenith nor I who brought up the topic, but instead the ever-helpful maid. Her tone was polite and neutral, bearing no hint of accusation at what may have happened to Paul. When I shifted my eyes to her, Lilia's gaze was instead lingering on Zenith's troubled and hesitant expression. I'm sure she had a better idea of what was going on inside the woman's head than I did, and no doubt she had asked me the unspoken question that we were all thinking of in Zenith's place.

I froze slightly at her question. Should I be honest? I doubt I could lie. Not only was I not very good at it, but Paul could easily refute any lies I say once he wakes up.

"I… I lost control. Paul and I were sparring, and I went too far. I'm sorry…" The regret in my voice was sincere, and hopefully they could look past their possible notions of me and see that.

"You lost control?" Lilia questioned my words. Off to the side, Zenith was listening intently to our conversation, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she focused on Paul.

"Yes… I felt a sudden rush power near the end of my duel with Paul, and I wasn't able to contain it properly. The result of what happened is as you can see," I explained, gesturing to the incapacitated man on the bed.

I wasn't quite lying nor was I being entirely truthful. Yes, I did experience a burst of energy at the end of the fight, but I hid the fact that it originated from the upswelling of emotions from buried memories that decided to resurface in that moment. I couldn't hide the fact that something abnormal happened, but at least this way, they wouldn't know the part that exposed me as a reincarnated dimension-hopping alien. Since magecraft was already present in this world, they would hopefully come to their own conclusions and see this incident as a release of my latent magical energy. While I would have preferred keeping my abilities hidden for longer, this bit of trickery was far better than the alternative.

The fact that I was doing this made me sick. Navigating conversations like this was something Archer would do. Half-truths to absolve myself the guilt of lying was a common tactic Archer employed to hide his knowledge during the war, not just from me but also from Tohsaka as well. As always, the idea that I was becoming more like him left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"A burst of power?" Lilia cocked her head in thought.

"Yes. I struck Paul with far more power and speed than I thought was possible. I'm not sure how else to explain it."

"Hmm, I'm not too knowledgeable in these matters; Paul would be a far better resource. However, I have heard that exceptional warriors are able to harness mana to strengthen themselves. Perhaps that is what caused this?" Lilia suggested.

I jumped on the opportunity.

"Maybe. All I felt was a rush of power—"

"No, I don't think that's it."

I slammed my mouth shut at Zenith's interruption, and the docile woman turned towards me as I internally panicked. Her eyes bore into mine, and as much as I wanted to look away, those blue orbs commanded I return her gaze. We locked eyes, and I could feel her prying into my mind, scrutinizing every fiber of my being. Whether she was successful or not, I couldn't say as her face remained neutral throughout the entire time, and it unnerved me to no end what she could possibly be thinking.

"Does she know?"

"Paul's mentioned it to me, I believe. The hidden power that Lilia's referring to. I've seen him use it myself, after all. It's certainly possible that Shirou and Paul could share whatever it is," she conceded.

She paused, letting her words in the air for a moment.

"But I can't say for certain. We can ask Paul for more information when he wakes up. I'm sure he knows more about this than we do."

Lilia nodded in confirmation.

"I agree. Shirou is a special boy, and you can never be too sure with him…" Lilia trailed off, letting the rather mild accusation hang in the air.

I contemplated their words. If they thought I was a prodigy, that would be fine – it was bound to happen eventually – but I had to make sure that's all they suspected. If they figured out I was actually an adult in a child's body, they might just abandon me while calling me demon-spawn.

"Wait, isn't that what I want?"

I mean, I certainly wouldn't blame them for forsaking me in that situation, and it would solve their issues with their rather troublesome son if I was to just, hypothetically, disappear.

"Shirou, thank you, for giving me another chance."

Ah, but Paul wouldn't very happy. Even now, his genuine smile filled me with guilt, and I purged the image from my mind before it could make me doubt myself further.

"… He is," Zenith agreed simply, and I sighed at the deeper meaning behind their words.

"I'm standing right here, you know."

I couldn't quite tell the atmosphere in the room right now. Lilia's words were fairly lighthearted, and while she accepted that there were some extenuating circumstances right now surrounding me, it seemed her fears had abated. As for Zenith…

The woman's lips were drawn in a tight line, and her brows were furrowed as she continued contemplating the situation. She had turned back away from me, content to just look at Paul as she resumed her healing efforts.

I truly didn't know what to make of anything that was happening right now. All this manipulation and hiding was far above me, and at the rate I was going at, it was going to crumble soon, if they hadn't seen through it already.

Lilia smiled apologetically at me. "Ah, sorry, Shirou. It was a bit rude. No doubt you're shaken up from this ordeal as well." An ordinary child would certainly be confused and scared in my current circumstances. An unknown and uncontrollable power that is capable of harming people close to you? It was a recipe for disaster, and Lilia was right to make her concerns known. However, while I wasn't completely sure, I knew far more about what happened than they did, so I wasn't quite as shook as she made me out to be. But then again, she's already hinted she knew more than she let on, so perhaps her words weren't as genuine as they sounded like.

Still, I wasn't going to let the chance she gave me go to waste.

"Yes. I need to think about what happened. And I'll let Paul heal in peace. When he wakes up, please let me know as soon as possible." I was concerned, of course, but I also wanted to be there when he first wakes up, so I can know what he says when he is inevitably interrogated by Zenith and Lilia. Call it callous, but it was for the best.

"Of course. You're no doubt scared and confused. Don't worry, Paul will be fine," Lilia smiled reassuredly. "And as for you, it's okay. You're not in any trouble."

Lilia's eyes flickered to Zenith, fast enough to make me doubt it happened it all, before returning her sights onto me. Meanwhile, Zenith remained silent and kept her eyes away from us, focusing on her work.

Lilia saw where my gaze landed.

"Accidents happen, Shirou. Now, I believe that it's getting late. Why don't you take this opportunity to escort Sylphiette back home?"

Lilia gestured to the little girl who clung to the back of my shirt like her life depended on it. She was being her usual shy and timid self, and she had kept behind me throughout the entire time, afraid to enter the room. Well, perhaps the fact that she was able to stay so close to me was a good sign she still trusted me.

"Um, I want to be there when Paul wakes up," I protest half-heartedly, though it sounded weak even to my ears.

"Paul will be fine. By the time you get back, he'll probably have awoken, so you have something to look forward to. Well—" she glanced behind me meaningfully "—if the opportunity to be all alone with Miss Sylphiette isn't enough already," she teased, her eyes shimmering mirthfully.

"Eep!" Sylphiette squealed and pressed herself further into my back. I let out an awkward laugh and then looked at Lilia admonishingly.

"Please don't tease Sylphiette. She's a bit… fragile."

If anything, I just put more fuel into the fire.

"Oh? Coming to her defense?" she further ribbed.

I huffed at her words.

"Funny. Let's go, Sylphiette." I turned around and out of the room, content to leave the conversation where it ended. I inhaled a particularly deep breath, relieved that I was free from the suffocating tension in the room. Between my concern for Paul, Zenith's strange behavior, and my own worries about my future, there was too much going on for me to process and think about. Thankfully, Lilia seemed content to play mediator and act as a buffer between myself and Zenith.

Well, whatever happens in there while I'm gone is out of my hands. I would just need to roll with the punches. Meanwhile, I had other things to take care of.

"I'm sorry about what happened. This was an unusual day," I said, turning towards Sylphiette and curling my lips upwards to alleviate her anxiety. If what had occurred was enough to affect me, an innocent soul like Sylphiette would surely have been rattled to some extent. "They're just worried for Paul."

"I-I hope Mr. Paul will be okay…"

I ruffled her hair.

"He will be. Zenith is a skilled healer, and she says Paul will make a full recovery. Trust her. I assume your foot is feeling much better?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Zenith wasn't the kind of person to cut corners.

She nodded demurely. "M-Miss Z-Zenith is very good…"

I nodded in affirmation.

"Alright, let's go."

"O-Okay."

I nodded at her and led her back down the stairs. While there were some unexpected developments, Sylphiette was healed, so my primary reason for bringing her to my house was completed. As for everything else… well, it didn't concern her, so there was no need to drag her into my problems. For now, I just needed to return Sylphiette to her family. In the chaos of the incident, Sylphiette had stayed a bit longer than I anticipated. Her parents must be worried sick about her.

We stepped outside of the house, and the cool evening breeze greeted us. It was a nice surprise after all that just happened. The sunset had just begun, so the sun was still peeking out over the horizon, bathing the world in a warm orange light.

I turned to the person behind me.

"Well, shall we get going, Sylphiette?"

I apparently took her by surprise—strange, considering that she had been staring at me before I turned around to look at her—and she lets out another squeal.

"Um, I-I-I don't know…w-where my house is…"

I raised an eyebrow. To be fair, I did just drag her to the outskirts of the village to the Greyrat household with no prior warning.

"Do you remember where I helped you? If we know where your house is from there, we can just return to that spot and then go to your house from there," I suggested.

"Um… sure…" She took a bit of time to process my words, but my reasoning made sense to her.

"Alright, let's go."

I started my way down the hill the house was situated on. Sylphiette was right behind me, though she was fairly lost in her thoughts, judging from the way her head was down and eyes were glazed over. She clearly was not actually present in the moment. It wouldn't be an issue though; there was plenty of time for contemplation since it would take a while for us to get to our original meeting spot. By the time she would get back to her house, it would be well into the evening, and I would return to the Greyrats by nightfall.

Well, I was fairly used to the night anyway. I've discretely trained—not discretely enough, apparently—at night for a while now, and my body has had some time to adjust to it. I wasn't sure whether this strange routine I have come to be a mistake later in life, but I didn't have the desire nor luxury of thinking about long-term ramifications of my health. If it turns out to be a debilitating issue in the future, I could only hope I got some use out of this body before then.

I also already had a taste of constant exhaustion and midnight activities since the majority of the grail war took place at night to prevent as many possible witnesses as possible. It didn't quite work out for me, but at least some of the participants tried to keep the war as secret as possible. Alas, someone like Tohsaka believed in that rule a bit too much, costing her and us a few times. Her faith in the other masters led to some unfortunate events. Honestly, maybe having Archer as her servant was actually a blessing in disguise.

Ugh, am I seriously giving him credit?

Well, it was undeniable that Tohsaka, for all her talent and capabilities, suffered from some naivete. She needed someone like Archer, who had no qualms with shattering any notions of idealism with the cold heartbreaking truth, to help her stay grounded with reality in order to use her prodigious abilities to full use. Had Tohsaka been more cold-hearted and pragmatic, combined with Archer's wide array of deadly abilities, I could easily envision a war with them as the victors. Illyasviel was too emotional to make full use of Berserker, and I would have been unwilling to fight her. Caster and Lancer would've been significant threats, but the true test would have been Sakura. My Tohsaka had once said she was willing to kill Sakura for the sake of the greater good, but considering how her life ended, that statement was more bravado than anything else.

Truthfully, the prospect of Tohsaka killing Sakura was simply incomprehensible to me, an image I simply couldn't create in my head. Perhaps Tohsaka was just incapable to being that cruel and soulless, and anything else would not be Tohsaka. Had she been more of a magus, then maybe we wouldn't have gotten along as well as we did, and we wouldn't have fallen for each other like we had.

"If only…"

"Ah… we're here, S-Shirou…"

Sylphiette's voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I quickly took in my surroundings with a whirl of my head. In my reminiscing, I had completely lost track of time and my bearings, and I had mindlessly retraced my steps from earlier. I could still see remnants from the encounter I had with those bullies; the grass was still flattened, and the soil was fairly disturbed from the playground scuffles I had with those kids. Looking around me now, we were a bit past where I first met Sylphiette. Had she not reminded me, I probably would have kept walking on until I eventually realized my error, at which point I might have gotten lost.

"I see. I apologize for my carelessness," I said. She gave me a funny look before nodding in affirmation and pointing towards the village.

"My h-house is over there…"

I hummed in contemplation.

"Hmm, well let's get going then," I said.

Judging from the direction of her finger, her house was on the other side of the village from the Greyrats, meaning we still had some time until we arrived. I would be arriving back at the house very late at this rate, though considering the atmosphere and developments since I was last there, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. This trip would give me plenty of time to step back and assess my options. There was so much to think about, and I was never the best at these things.

For an idiot like me, I needed to go through all my possible actions, both in the past and in the future, as carefully and thoroughly as possible. By not being there when Paul wakes up, I was essentially ceding any possibility of me warping the truth to my favor. I would need to work around what Paul would say to them, and without me there, he could say as much as he wants as truthfully as he wants.

Could I trust him? All my possible options from here on out all depended on him. Would Paul give me away, banishing me as a freak child? From his earlier words and actions, I'd like to think not. But then again, I did bash in his chest, and nothing can change a man's mind like putting him in a state of near death, so I couldn't count on his protection.

Ah, I was thinking a few steps ahead. I haven't even considered how Paul would even interpret what had happened. He believed that my skills are due to his genetics and me observing him a few times. While the truth was a bit… further than he thought, it did explain my prodigious skills, at least enough to satisfy someone like Paul.

"Uh, S-Shirou… are you… okay…?"

I turned to the source of the voice, which turned out to be Sylphiette. During the course of our trip, she apparently had found my immediate side to be more comfortable than behind me, and now we were walking side by side, our hips a hair's breadth from touching each other. I mentally questioned the appropriateness of the closeness between us, but truthfully, I didn't mind all that much, and since Sylphiette herself was the one to initiate it, then it's fair to assume she was comfortable with it as well. If it made her happy, then there was no real reason to begrudge her for it. I could tell it took a lot of strength for her to move even this much out of her shell. In some ways, it reminded me of Sakura, who had taken a lot of time to get her to open up once again.

But then again, that hadn't ended particularly well either.

"I'm okay. Why, does it seem like something's wrong?" I said eagerly, not wanting to dwell on my current thoughts any longer.

"Uhh… you weren't talking… is all… I thought you… didn't like me…" she said dejectedly.

I silently berated myself.

"No, it's nothing like that Sylphiette," I softly assured, giving her a gentle upwards curve of my lips before taking a moment to find my next words. "You're great and wonderful to be around. I'm just thinking about what happened with Paul. He'll be fine, but I'm not certain about things moving forward."

I didn't expect her to know what I meant, but it was the truth, nonetheless. As long as Sylphiette understood it wasn't her that was the issue, then that's all that mattered. For someone as fragile as her, I needed to make sure I didn't do anything to possibly compromise her mindset. I've been mostly silent during the entire time we've been walking, and while it was due to me being preoccupied with my thoughts, Sylphiette didn't know that. From her perspective, there was a chance I was actively avoiding talking to her, which was most definitely not the case.

"B-B-But you're family…" she trailed off, deeming the short statement a sufficient explanation.

Her words lingered in my mind, biting at my conscience like a mosquito. Perhaps my silence after her words was an answer in itself, and from the way Sylphiette's shoulders drooped in disappointment and her sudden downcast expression, she wasn't exactly happy.

"… F-Family is supposed to s-stick together…" She may have stuttered, her speech childish and words simple, but her message was no lesser because of it. In fact, her blunt and straightforward mindset strengthened it, the irrefutable logic forcing me to acknowledge her words.

I mentally sighed, firm in the belief that things couldn't be as frank as Sylphiette made it out to be yet not able to quite shake off the feeling that I was still missing something.

The issue was just another ramification of hiding who I truly was. I was not some blank slate that Zenith and Paul had raised from birth. My memories of my past life still clung to me, and I could hardly ignore them—or even worse: cast them away. I wasn't keen on throwing away what had defined me up to this point.

No, when I heard Sylphiette talk of family, my mind didn't shift to returning back to the Greyrat household. Instead, an upsurge of painful images flooded my mind, of times long since passed. A large, traditional Japanese household, once empty but not filled with residents brought together by the most unlikely of circumstances. The thought of King Arthur, Medusa, and three prodigious magi gathering around a table to feast upon my own personal cooking was amusing to me now when previously, the idea was so preposterous that it bordered on incomprehensibility. And that said meetings were rudely interrupted by an overly immature guardian like it was a cartoon cliché was perhaps even more bewildering, yet no less true.

The Greyrats housed me, yes. Zenith had given birth to me, true. But this life of mine didn't belong to them.

"Then leave them."

I should. My thoughts drifted to the image of a man, his tall frame standing over me, his broad shoulders facing me and covering my entire vision. Crimson cloth fluttered in the wind, the buffeting breeze enough to force me to cover my eyes. His head turned towards me, steel-grey peering at me out of the corner of eyes, silently judging and regarding me. His mouth moved, but his words were lost to the wind.

The vision ended, and I frowned as even in a new life, I couldn't escape my mind being plagued by him.

Being the hero fate wanted meant that one day, I would need to match him, throwing away everything so I could stand by his side. There was no use defying myself. I was destined to take his place, to be another cog in the wheel of fate.

I was still a far cry from reaching my peak. I was still weak, and my resolve was as fragile as a heart of glass. I had slipped up earlier with Paul, allowing myself to succumb to my emotions. I said it myself. Even if it meant living the life of a machine, to be a hero of justice, I had to crush such weakness. I couldn't afford to be selfish, not anymore.

Yet inexplicably, I felt that I was somehow betraying myself even further.

"I don't know much…" Sylphiette admitted, "b-but Mommy and Papa always told me that n-no one can replace family…"

I let her words simmer in my mind before nodding.

"That's right, Sylphiette. I couldn't agree more."

She blinked owlishly, bemused at my abrupt acceptance, accepting my silence as a refusal to elaborate on my words.

We continued in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. The sounds of a village getting ready for its slumber filled the air as its inhabitants prepared their last chores and for the start of a new day tomorrow. Tools were put away, animals herded back to their pens, and the crops were being checked on for the last time. Sylphiette slowly grew more confident in her surroundings, having taken the lead and walked slightly in front of me.

Right as the sun was just about to finish setting, only the dimmest of rays peeking out over the horizon, we arrived at Sylphiette's house. The bustling of the village had slowly faded as we neared the end of our journey, bathing us in silence by the time we had arrived.

Her house was, quite frankly, average. It was completely plain looking, just a standard two-story dwelling. It was exactly how I imagined a medieval European house to look like, and it was built from the same cookie-cutter template as the rest of the houses in the village. It was smaller than the Greyrat's household, which made sense since Paul was the village's knight, so he was able to afford more luxurious accommodations. Nevertheless, it was still a humble and cozy house, befitting someone like Sylphiette.

"U-U-Umm, t-t-thank you for w-w-walking me back. Y-You can go b-back n-now-S-S-SHIROU?!"

I knocked twice on the front door, my knuckles making deep thumps on the wood. In a split second, the door swung open so fast that I feared for the safety of the hinges.

"SYLPHIETTE?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

An Elvish man greeted me. Long blonde bangs framed his face—a substantially different color compared to Sylphiette's. He was tall and slim, not skinny but definitely not as built as Paul. His hands held clear evidence of his training, many callouses and small scars littering palm, meaning he was some kind of soldier or a field laborer at the very least. His face was rugged, but not rough, and if it wasn't for his frantic and paranoid expression, he could even be considered handsome. Said expression had settled on me for a split second before they focused on Sylphiette, who was meekly hiding behind me while giving the man an embarrassed smile.

"Ah, hello…Papa..."

"Sylphiette, do you know what time it is?! I've been worried sick!" the now-identified man exclaimed.

I stepped forward slightly, making sure to cover Sylphiette with my body as I subtlety held an arm out to make sure she stayed behind me.

"Good evening, Mister. I was just escorting Sylphiette back to her house. I presume you are her father?" I asked.

His eyes rounded on me, and a familiar tingle was sent up my spine.

"Oh? And who are you, brat?" he questioned, blatantly looking me up and down. From his scoff, he didn't seem too impressed with what he found.

"Shirou… Shirou Greyrat…"

"Greyrat?" He tilted his head in thought before widening his eyes in realization. "Oh, you're Paul's kid…" he trailed off, unsure how to approach me. His fiery attitude had been doused abruptly, and I was left with a significantly quieter and timid man. At the very least, I knew where Sylphiette got her demeanor from.

"Correct. I've been with Sylphiette all day. She was in some trouble when I encountered her. I apologize for having taken her without notifying you previously. I've taken the liberty of escorting her back to her home and ensuring her safety," I explained.

Law blinked owlishly at me, unknowingly repeating the same gesture Sylphiette did earlier, and I mentally smirked at the likeliness.

"Wow, I guess he wasn't kidding…"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Who wasn't kidding?"

The man had the decency to at least look extremely embarrassed.

"Uh, don't worry about it!" He said hastily, laughing waving off my question.

I gave him an unimpressed stare.

"I see. Well, as I promised to her, I've returned her to you." I said, stepping aside. Laws broke out into a wide smile at seeing his daughter in full view, letting out a cry of joy as he walked towards her with his arms outstretched. Sylphiette's cheeks were flush with embarrassment as she abashedly shuffled towards her father, returning his embrace and finally allowing herself to sink into the man's arms.

Father and daughter stood there in the for a few more moments, basking in the dying light of the setting sun that bathed the village in an ethereal orange glow. A gust of cool autumn wind blew by, and the resulting chill only encouraged the pair to dig into each other further, savoring the warmth of their bodies. It was almost like everything came to a standstill, reality letting them have this sole moment all to themselves as even the world itself acknowledged the serenity of this fragment of time.

It was a moving scene, a happy ending to a day full of stress and anxiety for Sylphiette. I gave them a silent goodbye, giving a little girl joyfully buried in the man's chest a wordless prayer as well. With my job done, I turned on my heels, content to let the two have this happy reunion to themselves. Neither of them noticed as I quietly made my exit, walking the road back to the Greyrats.

Of course, that meant back to Paul and Zenith. Unfortunately, I still had no definite answer to what I should do. The thought of revealing everything was certainly a possibility, but that temptation only lasted for a brief second. With the current atmosphere of the household, disclosing my status as an alien only served to invite more trouble than it solved. As strong as familiar bonds were, they only applied to the ones who were deemed as family. There was no guarantee that they would see me as such after exposing myself. In all likelihood, there would be no more room for Emiya Shirou in that house should I follow through with that plan.

Which really left me with only one other option, one that I tended to exercise very often: improvisation. Strategic plans were best left to Tohsaka or Illya, but unfortunately, neither of them were here. I was far from a manipulator or schemer, so in this case, the best I could do was pray for the best.

With the reluctant course of action in mind, I let out a sigh, continuing my way down the road—

"Hey, wait!"

I looked back, peering at the crest of the hill I had just crossed. The elven man I had just met was wildly running towards me while flailing his hands, trying his best to get my attention. Feeling the beginning of a migraine, I stopped my walk and let Sylphiette's father make his way towards me. By the time he reached me, the man was heavily panting and flushed red with exertion, propping his torso on his knees using his arms as he greedily inhaled large gulps of air.

"There… there you are! I can't—" he laboriously heaved in more breaths of air "—believe you're all the way over here!" He looked up at me, his face slick with sweat as his hair clung to his skin. "What kind of training regimen did Paul put you through?!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Was there something else I could help you with?"

"Laws. The name is Laws. You left before I got a chance to introduce myself!" With his message delivered, the man gave up on all pretenses of pride and masculinity and collapsed into a heap like a sack of potatoes.

Huh, this man reminded me a lot of Paul when I was just born. Perhaps this was the kind of person Paul would have been had I not existed.

I didn't know much about the man in front of me at all, but I didn't need to pry into his soul to see the sincere love he had for his daughter. The affection and ardor he showered Sylphiette with, feelings which the girl reciprocated without hesitation, could be considered the genuine article. I would know because I've seen similar displays of love firsthand, even to the point of experiencing them myself. Those tender smiles they graced each other with and the heartfelt sobs they choked back were familiar echoes that were seared into my soul, branding themselves into my memories.

Without a doubt, Laws had achieved the ever-distant dream that Paul had so fervently pursued all this time.

"Sorry, I just felt like I was intruding on something."

The man stood back up and gave me a sheepish smile. "Yeah, sorry about that kiddo. Didn't mean to make things so awkward. But still, how the hell did you get so far? I looked away for like 30 seconds and you were gone—" his eyes widened as he slapped a hand over his mouth "—shit, I swore in front of a kid!—" Laws's face scrunched up in a grimace "—FUCK!" Sylphiette's father stomped his foot onto the ground in frustration. I cocked my head to the side, amazed at how a fully-grown adult managed to act like such a child. Maybe my earlier assessment was slightly incorrect, and this man was actually the reincarnation of Taiga. He seemed less violent, but the large discrepancy between their physical and mental ages was a familiar feeling.

"It's alright—"

"Oh no, Alice is going to kill me!" he interrupted. The epiphany struck terror into the man, and his body started shivering in fright at the woman's name. Meanwhile, I resisted the urge to slap a hand over my face, content merely to observe the man's gradual progression into full-blown panic.

After a few more seconds passed with no end in sight, I changed my mind. "Not to interrupt your…" I struggled to find a word to describe what I had just witnessed, "…thoughts, but was there something you wanted? Otherwise, I should be making my way back."

His face lit up. "Ah yes, I wanted to invite you over to our house for a bit. You said you helped Sylphiette, yes? It would be rude to have you walk her all the way over here and not give you something back. Come on, we should have some food ready, and I'm sure Alice would love to meet you."

I curtly shook my head. "There's no need. I didn't do this for any sort of thanks. Rest assured, Sylphiette's safety is the only reward I need—"

He knelt, bringing his head in front of mine before peering into my eyes. His irises focused directly on me, and it was only after fractions of a second that he broke the connection, looking nervously at somewhere on my face before letting out a few uneasy chuckles. "Ah, but I insist!"

I frowned slightly at his words, my blank stare conveying that I was not moved by his request. "Paul and Zenith aren't expecting me to stay any longer than necessary." The sun was setting, and it would only be a few more hours until it would be dark.

"Ah geez. Man, hearing it from Paul and actually seeing it are way different," Laws said abashedly. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before once again staring at me straight on. "How about this: I'm just a concerned father that's spent the entire afternoon and evening worried sick for my daughter. You'll have to forgive me if I have some questions, both about what happened to her and about the boy who brought her in," he explained bluntly.

Ah, so that's what it was. Well, I couldn't fault a father for caring about his child. I could respect that much.

I looked backwards at the sky, judging at how long it would take me to return to the Greyrat household. At the leisurely pace Sylphiette and I traveled, it had taken us a few hours to get from there to here. If I did the same on the way back, it would be well into the night by the time I returned.

Well, I didn't particularly fancy the idea of going back to the large emotionally-charged mess waiting for me. I wasn't running away from the problem, per se, but sometimes people needed time and separation to properly process their emotions, which I was all too happy to give them.

But there was also the possibility of them getting angry over me doing something unexpected again. Much like what happened earlier, exercising my independence from the Greyrats wasn't necessarily the smartest idea, but maybe this outcome was the natural course of things.

"In that case, I can spare some time." In the end, I decided that as long as I didn't take too long, a minor detour wasn't out of the question.

Laws smiled at his honest approach succeeding. "Good. Now Paul won't kill me for treating his son badly after he's helped my daughter." I didn't have the heart to tell him about Paul's current condition. "Besides, I'm sure Sylphiette would be happy to continue seeing you as well."

I gave him a wry look and rolled my eyes. "You assume too much."

His grin only widened. "I don't think so. I've known my daughter far longer than you have. Trust me, she wouldn't be walking side by side with someone she didn't trust."

"Trust and happiness are two entirely different things."

"They are," Laws agreed with a nod, "but for children like her, they are one and the same. I'm surprised you already know about one of life's cruel lessons."

I chose not to respond, giving him a noncommittal shrug of my shoulders before walking past and back towards Sylphiette's house. The man followed, walking by my side as we slowly trudged back.

After a few minutes, the house was back in sight. Sylphiette was nowhere to be seen, presumably back inside where she was no doubt being questioned by her mother.

Laws and I stood outside of the front door. He stepped in front of me, his hand on the knob, but before he opened the door, he turned back to me.

"Before I let you inside, I have to ask: what are your intentions with my daughter?"

Ah, a concerned father indeed.

"I have no intentions. Like I said, I helped her because she needed help, nothing more."

Laws shook his head. "That was then. I'm asking about now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

He nodded. "Sylphiette sees you as a friend now." He raised a hand to stop me from interrupting. "Regardless of what you think, I know I'm right. Paul says you're a good kid. Paul is a lot of things, but he's not a liar." The elven man fully turned towards me, his face grim and resolute. "Still, I have to make absolutely sure. A lot of people look down on us demons, especially in the past few years. My daughter has a hard time talking to anyone. This isn't the first time she's run into trouble before, and it certainly won't be the last."

I hummed thoughtfully. It seemed that despite being in a new world, people were still willing to discriminate against each other for such trivial reasons. Being willing to shun out an innocent girl for an innocuous pair of ears and harmless strands of hair… it was disgusting. Being judged from birth for things she never asked for was a terrible thing. Sylphiette had told me her story on our walk back to the Greyrat household, and I had sympathized with her, but hearing it now from her father and that she's endured this treatment in the past brought forth an ugly swell of emotions in my chest. Sylphiette had committed no crime, but she bore the punishment for one, nonetheless.

The meaning of justice may have eluded me, the answer obscured in fog and mystery, but I knew that this unfair judgement certainly could not be called anything else but a farce of righteousness.

Memories of a violet-haired girl flashed through my mind, and the comparison was sickeningly apt. The similarities were there, and familiar pangs of angst blossomed in my chest as I clenched my fist.

And then flashes of a bloodied priest invaded my mind, the image of his empty smile worming into my brain like a parasite, and the fist tightened even further.

"You're angry," Laws noted, his eyes fixed down below. A pleased grin spread upon his face. "Good, that means you care."

"How could I not?"

"You'd be surprised. Many people are content to play the hero, but the responsibility that comes with it lasts a lifetime."

My lips curved upwards knowingly, a bitter aftertaste on in my mouth. "I'm aware."

He nodded, his face sporting a mask of approval. "Well, if you understand that much, then I'm fine with letting this continue." He turned away from me, preparing to open the door in his house. "I just don't want my daughter to be hurt anymore," Laws finished, his voice unwaveringly even as he left me with the warning. The man opened the door and disappeared inside, the door left slightly ajar and leaving me alone as I contemplated his last words.

My feet moved forwards, my hand resting on the closed door. A part of me considered just turning around and avoiding this situation entirely. Admittedly, the temptation lasted longer than I was comfortable with.

In the end, I decided that this was the more preferable of my current options, and with a sigh, I entered the house.

---

True to my earlier observation, the interior of the house wasn't extravagant by any means. It was definitely a bit more compact and spartan compared to the Greyrat's, but the overall theme and design was the same. To my right was the kitchen, where I could see Sylphiette enduring the frantic fretting of a woman around Zenith's age. She was busying herself by worriedly examining every part of Sylphiette's body, scrutinizing her for any sort of injuries. Thankfully, the only substantial one Sylphiette received had been her ankle sprain, something that Zenith had remedied quite quickly. The small, stray scratches and bruises she sustained from those bullies must have been healed by Zenith as well earlier.

The woman, who was perhaps around half a head's height shorter than Sylphiette's father, noticed me walking through the door and turned around, and just a passing glance at her face made it obvious she was Sylphiette's mother. She wasn't an elf, and unless there were other races of people I was unaware of, she seemed human. She had long hair that was tied up in a high ponytail, falling over onto her back in a curtain of warm, inviting brown. Her face shared a number of similarities to Sylphiette's, from her small, petite nose, soothing hazel eyes, and demure lips. In fact, Sylphiette definitely seemed to share her mother's face moreso than her father's.

She looked startled, a gasp escaping her before she reigned herself in and gave me a gentle smile, one charming enough to melt the hearts of the vast majority of men.

"Oh my? I didn't know Sylphiette was bringing home such cuties already." She brought up her hand to cover her scandalous smile, but I could see glimpses of it tugging at her lips. Mischief danced in her eyes, clearly very amused by the current situation, and just from my past experience with females, I knew that this woman was going to be the cause of many headaches.

"Hello. I am… Shirou Greyrat. It's a pleasure to meet you." I gave her a court nod. If anything, that shine in her eyes grew even brighter, and from the widening pit in my stomach, I knew that I had made a mistake.

"Aww, aren't you just the most adorable thing." She immediately stopped fussing over Sylphiette and stood up, and in the blink of an eye, my vision was completely obscured by brown as I was hoisted upwards. My breathing came to a stop as she proceeded to stuff me in her rather—ahem—bountiful chest, suffocating me in a valley of flesh and fat. She shook herself—and by extension, me—rapidly from side to side, her hand on the back of my head applying even more pressure as if she was trying to forcefully assimilate my body with hers in some grotesque horrific fashion.

"Uhh, Alice, I think you're killing him…?" I heard from behind me.

"Oh lord, Laws, can we keep him? Please? Pwetty pwease?" Oh god, she was doing baby talk now. I tried to escape my confines, but somehow this woman had the strength to keep me completely immobile. It was a perplexing phenomenon considering what happened with Paul earlier.

Laws sighed, one so lethargic that it almost inspired me to jump off the nearest rooftop. It seemed that he was somewhat used to this behavior from her, though I guessed that she still found new ways to surprise him.

"We can't just kidnap Paul's child, Alice," he chided, but it seemed like a half-hearted effort considering he knew his words were going in through one ear and out the other.

"We can't?"

Laws nodded gravely. "We can't."

Alice made some strange guttural noise of disappointment, though I took notice that she made no attempt to put me down and let me go. Not for the lack of trying on my part, of course, considering my arms were futilely trying to push myself away from her.

"Well, I'm sure I can arrange something with the Greyrats. His mother is Zenith, right? How dare she, keeping this charming little child all to herself?" Thankfully, she freed me from my prison, but my freedom was quickly taken from me as I was put under assault. Alice raised me up to her face then started affectionately rubbing her cheek against mine like I was some overgrown puppy.

Since my head was forcefully turned to the side, I could see Laws out of the corner of my eye. His expression was one of immense pity, but there was a hint of thankfulness to it, almost as if he was glad it was me suffering under Alice's attention rather than him. Since I wasn't exactly pleased with my current inhumane treatment, I couldn't really fault him for his choice. Regardless, I gave him a deadpan look, one that conveyed the lamentations of a man who had lost all hope for the future.

"Kill me," I silently mouthed to him, begging for him to spare me from this torture. Releasing me from this pain was worth any price, my life included—not that I valued it very much. Unfortunately, Laws gave me a frantic shake of his head, scared that should he let me escape, the sadistic vixen would target him in my stead. I gave him a betrayed look, and my eyes burned with vengeance, promising that should I survive, I would remember his refusal to aid me and return my pain onto him tenfold—

"Cwan yjou pweese staahp?" I pleaded with all my might, mustering every bit of childish cuteness inside of myself and throwing away any dignity or pride I could have had. Alas, my efforts were in vain in the face of my enemy, and she carried, now having moved onto pulling on my cheeks like it was some sort of clay for her to play with.

"Nope!" she denied cheerfully.

"M-M-Mom!" I couldn't see anything, but I could hear the distinct pitter patter of footsteps coming closer before Sylphiette's voice rang out again. "Please don't do that!"

"Oh don't worry, I won't break your little friend here." If anything, Sylphiette's disapproval only made the woman's embrace tighter.

"Don't kill my new friend!" That only seemed to motivate Sylphiette even further, and I could hear her resorting to banging her tiny fists against her mother's arms. With a melodious laugh, light entered my eyes, showing me the mother's kind expressions as Alice put me down gently, making a show of wiping off any dirt and dust that may have somehow gotten onto me.

"Okay, okay. There, I let your little boyfriend go. See? Not a scratch on him," Alice said with an appeasing and amused smile.

"H-He's just a friend…!" Sylphiette stammered out, her face flushed red in embarrassment.

Alice raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her words.

"And I'm sure you're wearing his old clothing just because, huh?" Alice ignored Sylphiette's mortified cry of "Mom!" before overdramatically scrutinizing her daughter's face. "I know you have my charming face and smile, but with great power comes great responsibility!" she lectured cheerfully, finishing her words with a wink.

"That's right! You can't be dating yet," Laws chimed in. All of a sudden, his face darkened, becoming the frightening visage of an overprotective father. "In fact, you will never date…"

Sylphiette made some weird groaning sound at her parent's antics, resorting to burying her face in her hands, the sharp shrill of her screams thankfully muffled.

Alice's eyes widened, and she covered her open mouth with a hand. "Or maybe, Sylphiette took on more from your mother than we thought, dear," she scandalously whispered across the room.

Laws rolled his eyes. "Don't even joke about that."

With a giggle, she let go of the matter and turned towards me. "Well dear, we were just about to have dinner. Would you like to join us? I'm sure I can explain to Zenith why you're taking so long to drop off my daughter, and you can take your time regaling us about your escapades with my daughter, hmm?"

I let her offer sit in my mind for a bit before mentally kicking myself. I already made up my mind, didn't I? There was no reason to hesitate.

Of course, even with all that said,

"Well, if you insist. It would be rude to decline such a generous offer. Don't worry about Zenith and Paul. I'll be sure to explain the situation to them as well." Hopefully they wouldn't be too mad, but better to ask for forgiveness than permission, as they say.

Alice and Laws looked at me, blinking once before turning to each other. There must have been some secret marriage telepathy technique since I've seen Paul and Zenith do the exact same thing.

Now that I think about it, they did act similar to the Greyrats. At least, similar to the Greyrats before everything fell apart. Perhaps my earlier hunch was correct, and this family was a vision of the Greyrats in a world in which I never existed.

"Good to hear!" Alice burst out happily. "Dinner will be ready soon. Sylphiette, would you like to show Shirou around the house? Who knows, maybe he'll be seeing more of it in the future?" she finished with a sly smile.

Sylphiette let out a distressed whine before meekly turning to me. "Um, d-do you want to look around…?"

I nodded, and Sylphiette pulled on my shirt, leading me out of the living room and deeper into the first floor. Truthfully, there wasn't much to see. While the house was a bit barer and smaller than the Greyrats, the layout and looks of it were the same. The rooms all had a bed and a few dressers. Their storage area was a bunch of dusty shelves with spiders hiding in their webs in the corners. I guess there wasn't much room for luxuries or personalization in a remote and poor area like Buena Village. Such privileges were only afforded to the rich and powerful, which meant the nobility of this world if I had to guess. Well, I knew Paul had some connections to that facet of the world, so maybe it would only be a matter of time before I encountered that side of society.

Sylphiette took me outside, showing me her mother's garden. It contained a few common vegetables and spices, exactly what I would expect from a farmland region. Aside from that, the outside area of the house was fairly nondescript, a few trees scattered about the yard but nothing else. I questioned where exactly the property lines of these houses began and ended, then I realized that these people were probably too busy trying to make ends meet before entertaining the idea of expanding their real estate.

"W-Well? What… do you think?" the shy girl asked me after she was done giving her tour of her house.

"It's humble," I answered. "A cozy place suitable for a family." I searched my mind for another word. "It's very… welcoming." There was a certain… feel to the house, one that I hadn't noticed immediately. Compared to the Greyrats' house, the air of the place was substantially different, lacking the tension that I had grown accustomed to. Admittedly, this place was a breath of fresh air compared to that.

"Really?" Sylphiette looked surprised by that, and she gazed at me with doe-like eyes.

Poor girl. This was probably her first time showing off her house and family to someone her age. No doubt that she was anxious about my opinion about everything.

"Really," I confirmed.

She lit up at my answer, and I could see the struggle to restrain herself in her eyes, glimpses of it showing as she lightly bounced on her heels. The celebration was cut short as Sylphiette realized something.

"Oh, Momma and Papa are probably done cooking." She looked at me expectantly, and I picked up on the implication, walking with her back inside the house.

Inside, Laws and Alice were in the kitchen talking in hushed whispers, but upon noticing us, they quickly stopped their gossiping and turned to us.

"Welcome back," Alice greeted warmly. "Dinner is ready, so come take a seat."

We quickly all took a seat at the table, with the heads of the household on opposite ends while Sylphiette and I ended up facing each other on the sides. Alice brought over a large bowl of stew along with a platter of bread. The stew was serviceable enough. It was fairly similar to a beef stew from back on Earth. The broth was a tad salty, but the flavor had a nice combination that was hearty and filling, perfect for a scrumptious meal in the evening before bed. The meat was definitely on the tougher side, a far cry from grade A5 Wagyu, but its flavor profile was close enough to beef that I still found it appetizing. The vegetables were cooked well, definitely tender but not so much that it was mushy. All in all, Alice was definitely a good cook, easily on par with Zenith.

Well, the food still lacked a certain… something, but no amount of cooking skill could ever fix that.

It was after the first few bites that I decided to do half of what I came here to do.

I coughed politely, bringing the attention of the entire table onto me. Setting down my utensils, I looked at Laws straight in the eyes.

"You mentioned before that Sylphiette had been receiving trouble for quite some time now. Are you aware that the bullying has escalated?" Laws and Alice tensed at my words, and I could see the utensils in Laws's hand creaking as they threatened to splinter into pieces under the man's tightening grip. Alice's normally kind smile immediately dropped, revealing the vindictive woman lurking underneath the mask she wore, one that had been tempered by the cruelty of reality.

"Explain." The woman's words left no room for discussion, her message more akin to a growl than a sentence.

"I came across her this morning when I was out exploring," I said. "She was being harassed by some boys. I successfully scared them off, but they were already bullying Sylphiette for some time by the time I arrived."

The look of either parent showed no surprise, but the look in their eyes beckoned me to continue.

"And these… boys... What were they doing to her?" Laws snarled, trepidation laden in his voice but asking for an answer regardless.

"…Um… they… t-t-they—"

"They were being quite rough with her. Verbal and physical harassment. Slinging dirt at her. There were three of them. And that was just from when I arrived," I explain tersely. "Sylphiette had twisted her ankle while she was running away. If I didn't get there in time…" I let the silence linger in the room, their imaginations speaking in place of my words.

Their faces twisted into uglier glowers, the prospect of possibly even more harm coming to Sylphiette agitating them further. The intensity of their displeased auras was rather impressive, reminding me that a parent's wrath is something I'd prefer to avoid.

"Sylphiette, did they do anything else?" Laws growled, his expression promising furious retribution onto those poor boys.

"… No…" she said meekly.

"Are you sure? Sylphiette, you can tell us anything, but we can't help if you don't tell us," Alice pleaded.

"N-No, they didn't do a-anything… just what S-Shirou said…" she said.

Both parents looked sternly at Sylphiette, trying to pressure her into confessing anything else that could have happened. The poor girl cowered back slightly but managed to meet their eyes, showing she was telling the entire truth. Seeing that their daughter didn't have anything else to say, Alice and Laws withdrew their pressure, turning away from her and back towards me.

"Do you remember what they looked like?" Laws asked.

"Sorry, I don't," I lied. Children, I reminded myself. A stern warning and slap on the wrist should suffice for now.

Though now that I think about it, Paul and Zenith seemed to know the parents of the boys. Perhaps Sylphiette's family would find out eventually, but that day would not be today. Time would lessen their rage, and maybe they'll let the bullies get off easy.

"It might be the same boys from before," Alice said. "They've harassed my daughter a few times, but nothing like this."

"Sylphiette and I are hybrids," Laws explained. "Humans never looked too fondly at us due to the history between our races. Nowadays, with the isolation of the demon continent and the exodus of the people of the Great Forest due to all the monsters running around and the problems it's causing, tensions between the two sides are at an all-time high."

Hmm, how interesting. I didn't know that the current geopolitical dynamics of this world were so similar to Earth's. Just like before, the more things change, the more things stay the same. People were people, flaws and all.

"It pisses me off," Laws continued. "Just when we were getting to settle down and start a family, all this bullshit happens!" He slammed a fist against the table, causing Sylphiette to flinch. From the way Alice responded by silently and calmly looking at her husband, this outburst was not a surprise nor new. The man shrunk in the face of his wife's disapproval, letting out a small apology.

I could see why he and Paul got along so well. Their problems were astonishingly similar.

"Forgive him. It's just been a regular topic since Sylphiette was born," Alice said.

Almost immediately, Sylphiette's expression became downcast, and I could sense that she was blaming herself for giving her parents a hard time.

"It's not your fault, Sylphiette. There's no crime in being born as you are," I consoled, my words drawing her eyes away from her lap and up towards mine.

For a moment, a bloody priest stood right behind the small elven girl, the dried blood staining his lips giving the corpse's smile a malevolent crimson glow. I blinked, and the apparition disappeared, the vision only known to me.

"T-Thank you…" Sylphiette quietly replied, shyly looking back down at her feet.

Alice let out a hum of approval. "Those are wise words. Who taught them to you?" The question was rhetorical from the way she smiled, but I answered, nonetheless.

"They're mine."

Her smile widened, and I felt the noose around my neck tighten. "To be spouting such wisdom at such a young age. Either you're well-learned from a book or Zenith and Paul have taught you a thing or two."

I nodded, content to let her make her assumptions. There was no need to be entirely truthful regarding these matters.

"In any case, such a cutie like you shouldn't be saying that kind of stuff anyway. Now I'll definitely need to drop by to give Paul and Zenith a piece of my mind." Alice sighed, a wistful look on her face. "Wisdom is good, but children should be children. There's plenty of time later in life to be learning all that."

I agreed with her words, though Alice forgot to account for one thing: that some people don't always have a choice.

Laws coughed, interrupting the pause. "Anyway, enough about us. You certainly didn't come here to have all this coming down on you."

I resisted the urge to tell him that he already had, or that he and his wife were speaking to me as if I was three times older than I was.

Alice nodded. "Yes, that's enough for now. My husband invited you here to show our gratitude for helping our daughter. For that, you have our sincere thanks," Alice said, smiling warmly at me in gratitude. Law gave me a firm nod, the universal gesture for men to show appreciation. Of course, I returned the motion.

"You're welcome," I said, returning their gratitude. Laws gave me a small smile of appreciation at not deflecting their thankfulness.

"T-Thank you, Shirou… for saving me." The timid girl looked up, her cheeks bulging as her face brightened into a bashful smile, small pink lips shyly curling upwards. It felt like I had stumbled upon a sacred treasure of the world, a sight no one else was beholden to.

Just like before, I couldn't help but draw comparisons once again, the girl's hair turning a vivid shade of violet as the surrounding scenery shifted to the unassuming tranquility of the Emiya estate where Sakura had shown me her genuine smile for the first time, one free of the burdens that had plagued her later.

There was a magnetic pull within my chest, my eyes transfixed upon the alluring curve of Sylphiette's lips, the image tugging on the contours of a soul that had sat dormant for so long. Before I knew it, there was an unfamiliar feeling on my face as the corners of my mouth quirked up.

"Of course. You're very welcome, Sylphiette."

There was a bang, the loud sound of something crashing against the floor. A glance to the side revealed that the source of the noise was Laws, who had been sitting on the edge of his seat and had leaned forward a bit too far and was now sprawled on the floor, the chair having been ejected backwards. Somehow, the man barely registered the accident and scrambled to return both the chair and himself to their correct locations, his attention eagerly fixed in front of him.

Next to him, Alice was slack-jawed, her eyes wide in surprise as if she was bearing witness to a once-in-a-lifetime forbidden scene. Her hands were limp, the utensils in them completely forgotten as teetered unsteadily in her fingers. Sylphiette had a similar reaction, her face flushed a deep red as she stuttered out a few words of… something. The girl was rapidly blinking as her eyes rapidly spun in circles in their sockets, her brain unable to fully process her thoughts as her senses overloaded.

I looked at the three family members, my blank visage all the response I needed as I returned their gazes with my own unimpressed stare.

Truly, the world was conspiring against me.

---

"Thank you for coming!" The jolly woman waved enthusiastically at me, her other hand resting on Sylphiette's head while patting it affectionately. "You have to stop by again. You're more than welcome at our house!"

I ruminated on her offer, weighing the pros and cons of continuing to associate with the family. They were most certainly not bad people by any measure; in fact, I could say without a doubt that they were all of outstanding character, strange habits aside. They were pleasant to be around, and I would not find myself inconvenienced in any way by mingling with them.

As always, the problems did not lie with them, but rather with me. Trouble was bound to find me sooner and later, and when that time comes, it would be better for me to face it alone. There was no need to involve any innocent people in my problems; such kind people did not deserve any more suffering than what was unavoidable. It was a similar conundrum with the Greyrats, people who already bore the consequences of my existence. Leaving them was akin to mercy, sparing them the trouble that came with being with me.

"I will if I have time," I said. A non-committal answer, neither accepting nor declining her proposal. Archer would approve.

The woman smiled, her face the image of a cunning fox. "Well, I'll ask your mother if I can have the luxury of taking you off her hands." I fought the urge to correct her choice of words. "Sylphiette doesn't have many friends —or any, for that matter. I'm sure she'd love to play with you some more."

"MOM!" Like clockwork, Sylphiette indignantly cried out at her mother's teasing.

"He has my approval." Laws gave me a firm nod and a thumbs-up. I raised an eyebrow at his words, unsure of what he meant but suspecting that it would be far too much of a headache to understand.

The four of us were standing outside the house. After the atmosphere had gotten a bit too awkward for my taste earlier, I had announced my departure. In a fashion that I was quickly—and unfortunately—growing accustomed to, all three family members had nearly tripped over themselves to see me out before I could make my own exit, leading to the current situation outside.

"DAD!" Sylphiette escaped from her mother's clutches and rushed towards her father, only to be confined once again in his arms as he wrapped them around her in a playful vice grip. The girl battered her petite arms against the man, doing negligible damage as the elf laughed harmoniously into the evening breeze, the happy chuckles carried to the far corners of the village as both parents couldn't help but give close-lidded smiles at their daughter's reactions.

I felt something tugging on my lips again, but this time I was able to push it back down. Alice noticed my pensive look and walked over to me, leaving her husband and daughter to their antics.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind. Care to share your thoughts?" she asked innocently with a tilt of her head.

I closed my eyes, letting out a breath of air I didn't know I had been holding. "It's nothing. I'm just being reminded of something."

"Oh? And what do we remind you of, my dear child knight?"

I raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. "Child knight?"

She put a finger to her lips, pretending to contemplate the title. "Well, you're Paul's son, and Paul is the knight of the village, right? Therefore, you're a child knight!"

I let her words wash over me, the simple and rudimentary thought process behind her reasoning causing my mind to short circuit. "I… see…"

Well, I guess she wasn't wrong.

"Do you really?" She reached down and ruffled my hair, orbs of amber peeking out from the crimson strands she was playing with. "Well, maybe I shouldn't be bestowing you titles just yet. For now, you can just be Shirou, and that's all you need to be."

Ah, so she was like Zenith. Well, at least, Zenith before she came to a few realizations. I suppose that reality had to rear its ugly head one way or another.

"I was just thinking about how you all seem so happy. Nothing more." My words were curt and concise, the simple message nothing but honest.

Alice smiled, tinges of sadness tainting the image. "Well, it's hard to smile and laugh nowadays, but we do what we can." She looked back at the two people who were still engrossed in their play-fighting. "My husband was driven from his homeland, and even now when we finally thought we found some reprieve, reality came back to haunt us once again. It's not easy, you know, trying your best all the time, even if you don't know where your efforts are going and what's going to happen in the future. For all you know, you can be working towards nothing, but that's the thing—" she peered into my eyes, the weight of her gaze drilling into my soul "—even complete darkness can be extinguished by the dimmest of lights." She winked at me, her smile radiating mischievousness. "Now that's a good quote right there! Remember that for when you're older, okay?" Suddenly, her eyes widened, and her expression took on a mortified look. "Oh wait, I'm supposing to be treating you like a kid. Nooooooo!"

The woman fell theatrically to her knees, her beautiful visage twisted into an overdramatized expression of agony.

I gave her a patronizing pat on the head, mimicking her gesture from before. "It's okay. It happens all the time."

She was like Fuji-nee, a child in an adult's body that occasionally dropped nuggets of wisdom before reverting back to their childish demeanor.

"Well, just because it happens often doesn't mean it's okay." Alice stood back up "Sorry, I just can't help it. You don't act very much like a child, do you?"

I nodded once, not even trying to deny it. There was only so much I could hide. "Correct."

She sighed, a pitying smile staining her lips. "What a shame." She gave me one last pat on the head before she took on a more serious bearing. "Anyway, I was serious earlier. I won't bore you with the speech I'm sure Laws gave you, so I'll cut straight to the point: please stop by. No matter how much you try to deny it, my daughter is much happier today than she has been in a while." Alice and I glanced behind her to see Laws taking Sylphiette in his arms and spinning her around as she fervently tried to escape. "As a parent, the only thing I really want is for her to be happy. I don't want to see her sad if the one person she connected with didn't want anything more to do with her."

My heart felt heavy, my throat tightening as the depths of my soul ached and stirred at the ugliness of it all. I opened my mouth to respond but found my words had become a quiet rasp.

"I'll try."

Even I didn't know how truthful my own words were.

She nodded, a much more satisfied grin decorating her countenance. "Good, that's all I ask. Well, not like we won't try ourselves. Plus, I'm sure my little girl will try to find you anyway." She turned behind her, "Hey Sylphiette, Shirou is leaving. Say goodbye!" Alice called out.

The little girl quickly wriggled out of her father's grasp and ran over to us. "Um. T-thank you, S-Shirou!" The girl fidgeted in place, swaying back and forth on her feet as she looked downwards in embarrassment. It was mildly amusing watching her unease, but at some point, I had to leave.

"Of course. Like I said, you're welcome, Sylphiette." I gave Laws and Alice a nod, and they returned with happy smiles and wave. Giving Sylphiette one last look, I turned around to make my way back to the Greyrats.

I took only a few steps this time before I heard the noise of hushed whispers and the sound of someone being pushed forward. I spun on my heels only to see Sylphiette stumbling uncontrollably towards me.

"Ahhh!"

She fell onto me, but thankfully, I managed to brace myself in time. Had we both fallen down, it would have been unbearably embarrassing. Not that the current situation was much better, with her making her best impression of a bell pepper as I could feel her temperature becoming scalding hot in my arms. Right now, I had relied mostly on instinct to catch her, resulting in her locked in my arms as I fought to keep us upright.

Off in the distance, I could see Laws giving her wife a dry stare as Alice sported a proud look on her face.

"S-S-Shirou! I-I-If you want, d-d-do you want to p-p-play t-t-together t-t-tomorrow…?" Sylphiette stuttered.

I shot the woman behind her a deadpan glare before turning back to the girl in my arms. I held the girl out to an arm's length before answering, "Maybe. Zenith likes to keep me inside the house. Today was the first time I've really had the chance to go out…" Sylphiette understood the implication, her face becoming crestfallen. I could feel her body becoming limp under my hands as all the tension she was under previously evaporated in an instant. "But I'll see what I can do."

Just the small, fleeting hope of us meeting again was enough to brighten her spirits once again, and a delighted smile blossomed on her lips. "O-Okay!"

Unseen by her daughter, Alice made some vague gestures of celebration as Laws buried his head in his hands at his wife's antics.

Having felt like I had my fill of Sylphiette's family, I bid them a farewell, one that actually stuck this time, and made my way back.

---

My feet came down with a crunch, crushing a blade of grass, one of the few on the dirt pathway I was walking on, and I let out a sigh as I finally arrived back at the Greyrat's house. The building was plain and ordinary, nothing more than a medieval-era house, but with the curtain of twilight that had fallen over the land, it loomed over me like a dark, towering castle, filling me with a sense of trepidation.

I stepped forward to open the front door, my hands firmly grasping the knob. I pause for a second, letting my fingers and palm familiarize themselves with the sensation of wood on skin, committing the feeling of each fiber of wood to my mind.

Behind me was freedom, an entire world of possibilities. Free from the turmoil that I knew awaited me inside.

"Just a few steps, and you'll be free. Isn't that what you want, Emiya Shirou?"

This indecision would kill me one day.

I opened the door, almost expecting a horrific monster or overlording deity on the other side. Instead, cold silence greeted me, making me wish there was something to fight. The house was in the exact same state as I left it, meaning that the Greyrats were probably still upstairs. I closed the door behind me, cringing slightly when it made an audible thump as it closed.

So much for being discrete.

I looked up into the second floor, the long unassuming staircase leading into an ominous foreboding darkness. I stepped on it, the wood creaking beneath my feet as I placed my weight on it. I continued my ascent, each step as heavy as the last, a million thoughts racing through my head, but they left as quickly as they entered.

I stood in front of the master bedroom. I pressed my ear to the door, and I could hear some faint whispers on the other side, but they were too muffled and quiet to understand. I could have reinforced my ears to hear better, but I huffed internally at myself.

I knocked on the door twice, and I could immediately hear the hushed whispers stop. Taking that as sufficient notice, I entered the room. My eyes gravitated to Paul, who had finally woken up. He was sitting upright on the bed, his chest wrapped in a massive bandage that crossed over from his shoulder to his waist. His face was slightly sunken, and I could see traces of fatigue in his expression with the way his eyes seemed a bit dimmer than before. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and his lips were closed and pulled into a tight line. Whatever they were talking about before, it obviously didn't put him in the brightest of moods. Well, that, and the matter of me injuring him, of course. Nevertheless, he looked fine for someone who was having debilitating health issues a few hours prior. He looked safe and on his way to being healthy from what I could tell, which was my primary concern.

Off to the side, Zenith was sitting on a chair beside the bed. She seemed to be in the middle of simmering in anger, her face twisted in an ugly scowl. Upon seeing me, her face settled into a conflicted expression before tearing her eyes from me.

Lilia, still prioritizing her duties, was busy cleaning rags in a basin in a corner of the room. Seeing me enter, she gave a small polite smile, nodding in acknowledgement before returning to her task.

I returned her gesture, grateful that the vigilant maid wasn't making herself one of my concerns. I couldn't say I was particularly surprised by Paul and Zenith's reactions, but I was reaping what I sowed.

"And the hero returns! You finished walking your girlfriend back home?" Paul joked, breaking the silence that had settled upon everyone.

I rolled my eyes.

"Sylphiette is back home. I dropped her off to her parents then came back here."

Paul hummed in thought. "Well as long as she's safe. Did you catch their names? I'll need to apologize to them myself for keeping their daughter late when I'm better."

"Laws and Alice, I believe. They were quite nice. There's a chance they'll stop by, partly to thank me again and to apologize for keeping me for so long in their house while I explained what happened earlier," I said.

"Laws? That was his daughter? Damn, now he'll know I got my shit kicked in," Paul jokingly lamented.

"You know of him?" Zenith asked.

He nodded. "He's one of the guards that volunteered as part of the militia. He's mainly a hunter, but he asked for some shifts helping patrol and guard the village. I talk to him a good amount," Paul explained. "I can't say he ever mentioned his daughter's name but seeing as he's one of the few Elves here, it makes sense. As for his wife, I'm not very familiar with her."

"As you should be," Zenith remarked dryly, though it was more fatigued than playful teasing. "I can't say I know much about them. Bring me along if you go. It'd look bad if I'm not there as well."

Paul smirked in amusement. "Well, this would be a good chance to set up a little play date between our children anyway.

Zenith's fist lashed out, burrowing itself into Paul's chest. The man keeled over to his side, groaning in agony at the low blow on his flesh wound. "Careful, I brought you back to the land of the living. I can just as easily take you out of it," Zenith warned.

The only response she got was another groan.

"Please do be careful, Lady Zenith. While I'm sure Paul ls smart enough to not go frolicking off with other women, he is still, unfortunately, a man," Lilia intoned gravely.

"Oh, come on!" Paul said, sitting back up. "I wouldn't cheat. You act like I would just fuck anything with a pulse and a hole between its legs!" His remark made Lilia and Zenith raise their eyebrows unimpressed, making the man seethe even harder. "I've changed!" he swore, crossing his arms.

"Have you?" both Zenith and Lilia asked at the same time.

"Oh, come on!" he whined. The man-child turned towards me. "Welcome to marriage, kiddo. You can do everything right but still fuck up somehow. Can't win 'em all," he shrugged.

"Please do not corrupt Master Shirou with your asinine ideas," Lilia interjected on my behalf.

"He's my kid. I'm just teaching him the unfairness of life early on," Paul argued back.

"If he is your child, then he needs no teacher, especially since he has already begun bringing girls home," the maid responded.

Paul seemed like he was about to continue arguing but then thought otherwise. "Well, you're not wrong about that."

I rolled my eyes. "I have no interest in romance," I shut down. Paul gave me a wry smile, as if knowing something I didn't. A strange thought, since I was fairly certain I held all the cards here. Zenith blinked once, processing my words. Lilia let out a sigh of relief, thankful that I had no intentions of following in Paul's unscrupulous footsteps.

"Only time will tell," Paul said. "Anyway, we all need to talk."

All of a sudden, Paul's face morphed into one of seriousness, and the lighthearted atmosphere vanished, replaced with the heavy tension that occupied this house constantly. I gave Paul a look of surprise, not expecting such a straightforward response considering how long he had tip-toed around his thoughts all this time. However, what he was doing was akin to slamming your head directly into a wall, but then again, did I really expect better from Paul?

"Well, are you finally going to tell me what happened?"Zenith started. "I leave you two out to go do your stupid manly fighting bullshit, and the next thing I know, your entire ribcage is crushed, your internal organs are bleeding, and a boy half your size is dragging you through the front door."

Paul hummed thoughtfully, unsure of how to really respond to his wife. I looked over to the side and made eye contact with Lilia. She noticed my gaze, and I questioningly raised an eyebrow while subtly nodding to Zenith. She gave Zenith an appraising look, and with a small nod, she gestured for me to continue observing.

Paul at least looked sheepish as he nervously rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah… Umm… So, Shirou and I were training…" he started unsurely.

Zenith gave him an unamused half-lidded stare as the man was having trouble finding the words. "Was it really training?" she asked, giving him the opening he needed to continue talking.

"We were!" Paul tried to ignore Zenith's raised eyebrow and Lilia's focused gaze on his chest. "I mean, we were having a nice little heart-to-heart, but for men, you gotta throw a few hands for it to mean anything. The clash of our blades was akin to a storm of lightning. The very world itself was terraformed from our strikes for nature itself was no match for the battle of our indomitable human spirits!" He emphasized the imagery with vague waves of his hands, trying to demonstrate the scale of the earlier battle to the two women.

Dear lord, someone kill me.

Lilia let out an exasperated sigh, and Zenith was massaging her temples to stave off the headache she was receiving for Paul's atrocious and unnecessary storytelling. It seemed that they were both well-adjusted—not enough, it seemed—to his eccentric mannerisms already and did not bother to protest it.

Seeing that everyone was rather unamused at his emphatic speech, Paul cleared his throat, the slight red hue on his cheeks betraying his embarrassment. Despite his efforts, everyone had seen through his words.

"Enough games, Paul. Tell me how you ended up like this," Zenith said, not letting up her pressure. Ice cold eyes zeroed in on the injured man, freezing him in place as they look for chinks in his armor, any minor crack enough for Zenith to pry the man's soul wide open and peer into the ugly truth he was hellbent on hiding.

Paul wavered underneath the relentless assault but didn't budge. Paul's eyes flickered towards me, a silent question sent from him to me. I gave him the smallest of nods, imperceptible to the other two people in the room "I… It was just an accident," he finally admitted. "I was about to win, but I got careless at the end. It wasn't anything terribly grand, just a swing that came faster than I expected. It could have happened to anyone," he shrugged.

It was perfectly in character for Paul to be slightly cocky. The explanation made sense, and the whole innocuousness of it all didn't leave too many holes to exploit. It was a simple response, but sometimes those were best. Whether or not Paul intentionally planned was another question altogether.

"You're saying Shirou did this?" Zenith asked, less of a question and more of a statement.

Paul gulped. "He did."

"To you? Aren't you some prodigy with a sword?"

"Everyone makes mistakes. I would have thought you would know that by now," he huffed, his eyes narrowed at her. In response, the woman evenly met his stare before tightening her lips into a line and turning away.

"Yeah, I guess I should." Her eyes briefly met mine before something flashed within the depths of that ocean blue and she quickly looked elsewhere. "So Shirou did this to you? Just so he wouldn't lose?" she pressed again.

Paul smiled sheepishly at her incredulity, understanding that what he was saying wasn't very believable. His story seemed contrived and bordered on absurdity, even to me who experienced it firsthand. And considering the history between these two…

Yes, perhaps trust was in short supply these days. Or maybe that had always been the case.

Even though she wasn't looking at me, I could sense Zenith's brain trying to put everything together, attempting to reconcile the image of the boy in her head with the gruesome wounds she had treated earlier, her beautiful features contorting into the troubled visage of someone twice her age.

"Yeah but like I said, it was an accident. And besides, I told him to go all-out. No wonder he got me in the end. Real men get stronger when their backs are against the wall," Paul said.

Zenith's breathing shuddered and trembled at the confirmation, and the singular gulp she took was as loud as thunder in the silent room. Frosty cerulean regarded him almost desperately, ruminating on the merit of his words. The conflict in her eyes only grew stronger until all of a sudden, the storm dispersed.

"Okay."

The abrupt acceptance of his implausible narrative took Paul by surprise, and he tilted his head in bewilderment.

"Okay…?" he trailed off, waiting for Zenith to elaborate on her curt statement. Contrary to his expectations, the woman merely let out an exhale, her eyes softening in acceptance at the situation presented in front of her. In the end, simple logic prevailed over whatever misconceptions she may have had. Even the most emotional of people would falter in the face of irrefutable reality.

"I just had to make sure." She leaned back into her chair, pursing her lips while taking a moment to digest the confirmation of the events straight from Paul's mouth. Thankfully, it seemed that the incident hadn't soured his impression of me, and he was firm on defending me from Zenith's attention. His emphasis on the "accident" part of the events were helping greatly in cementing my innocence in their eyes, allowing him to blow off the entire thing as a mere training mishap rather than something a bit more… worrisome.

"If I may make a suggestion, Lady Zenith," Lilia interjected, drawing the attention of both Greyrats, "perhaps it would be prudent of you to ask Shirou directly on what happened. His perspective might prove invaluable in confirming what exactly happened."

That's true. Zenith hasn't directly addressed me once since I returned. I could only imagine what was stewing in her mind since I left. The fragility she displayed before was gone, but whether or not that was from her strengthening herself or that she had already crumbled, I wasn't sure.

Zenith slowly turned towards me, and her words came out tentatively in a whisper. "Do… do you know what happened, Shirou?"

I paused before deciding on what to say. "Like Paul said, it was an accident." Speaking of which, I turned to the man in question, who raised an eyebrow at seeing my attention turn to him. I made a mistake, so I had to apologize. "I'm sorry, Paul," I said. It was the truth, that part I didn't fake in the slightest. It was a mistake on my part, losing control of myself. I wouldn't deliberately choose to hurt him, of course. "I don't know what came over me. One moment, I saw your sword coming towards me, and the next…"

I paused. Despite the chaos of the moment and the adrenaline coursing through me, I could still remember what had happened, the images in my head that had flashed in my mind briefly: the familiar glint of corrupted light glimmering in the dark, its once-pristine shine swallowing the darkness around it and oozing a melancholic glow, the formerly blissful and inspiring aura now radiating malice and treachery.

It haunted my dreams; every moment of its continued existence had been an insult to its former glory, sullying the legend it had carved into history. Merely thinking about it brought painful pangs of sadness into my heart. And perhaps what was even worse were the memories of the person holding that disgusting blade. Golden strands that sparkled in sunlight and danced joyously in the wind had wilted into a sickly pale green akin to dying foliage. Jade orbs so tantalizing that the finest of emeralds could be compared to her eyes and still be found wanting had become cold and dull. A face so beautiful that I could lose myself in it for days on end held none of the compassionate warmth nor ethereal grandeur it once possessed.

The memory forever scarred me, and it was little wonder I had reacted the way I did.

Of course, I couldn't tell them any of them that.

Paul smiled at my apology. "Don't worry about it, I know it was an accident."

Zenith's eyes darted between the two of us erratically, and with her soul bared opened like this, I could see the doubt and hesitation clouding her mind. However, at least in regard to my earlier statement, the turmoil cleared just slightly, and Zenith nodded in acknowledgement.

"I always knew you were special, but to be able to even hit Paul, never mind injure him like this…"

"Perhaps talent with the blade runs in the family," Lilia suggested. "Master Shirou is a genius, and Paul is a swordsman of considerable caliber. Shirou is his son, so it should not be unexpected for his offspring to have inherited his innate aptitude for battle," she lectured.

Zenith hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe." She turned to her husband. "So, he did this to you with just a sword?"

"A training sword but yes."

"A sword, huh?" Zenith gave him a disapproving look. "If it had been real, I'd be mourning for the two pieces of you in your coffin."

Paul cheekily smiled, though I could see the happiness in his eyes as his wife admitted that she would have grieved for his hypothetical death, as indirect as it was. "Eh, I'd be fine. I got you to heal me, don't I?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not that good, Paul."

"If you practiced more, maybe you would be."

"I had plenty of practice healing your reckless ass years ago."

"Oh come on, Elinalise and Ghislaine weren't exactly staying back either."

Blue eyes darkened. "Ghislaine was too good to get hit very often. Elinalise was at least deliberately taking hits for everyone. You liked to run off and do your own thing when the 'plan' got too boring."

He chuckled shamelessly. "Hey, it's a man's duty to show off in front of women."

"We weren't even together at the time."

He gestured to the house they were in. "And yet here we are."

The woman sighed, but there was no actual annoyance behind it.

The tension in the room defused substantially. I didn't know too much of what happened, but the previous relations between Paul and Zenith had become strained once again in the brief time I was gone. However, considering that they were on amicable enough terms to be joking and teasing each other like this, whatever occurred between them wasn't entirely on a personal level.

This was a good sign. It meant that I was past the first hurdle I had expected to come across. The initial explanations were out of the way, mainly due to Paul's assistance. Thankfully, Zenith was mainly questioning him instead of me, letting the man come up with his own story. Whatever he could come up with would surely be better than anything I could make. I was content to let him keep talking since any possible contradictions in the finer details could have raised unnecessary suspicions. Thankfully, Paul did not bother changing any of the details of what had happened. It was not surprising since Paul wasn't one for trickery or manipulation.

Well, I wasn't entirely against it. In fact, his decision made things much easier. He brushed everything off as an accident and kept everything vague, essentially giving me the reins to fill in the gaps as I wished. However, playing the part of the ignorant child seemed to be the best play for now.

The only questionable part was Paul's insistence on staying on my side. It seemed like he was staying true to his words from earlier and adamant on fulfilling his vision of a loving family, despite the hard road that laid ahead of him.

I couldn't really agree with it. Paul made the deliberate choice to not out me despite me having critically injured him, but the incident might as well be spitting in the face of his genuine wish for a family. Why he still sought to fulfill his wish with me, I did not know.

"Anyway, you're all missing the point. Enough about what happened. This accident is actually good news!" Lilia and Zenith both looked at Paul incredulously, who was now sporting a wide wicked grin on his face. "Because I just found out the hard way that our son—" he pointed a finger at me "—is a full-blown combat prodigy!" He ended his remark with a proud smile, waving over to me like I was some exotic circus animal he was showing off.

The two women responded by giving him blank looks, but whether they were in disbelief at his words or his behavior, I couldn't tell.

Had Paul known I was more or less already given the template for my abilities, he would not have been so eager to award me such lofty titles.

"Lilia already said that," Zenith pointed out.

"And you still don't get it! I'm advanced in three schools of swordsmanship, and I got destroyed by a four-year-old!" he exclaimed, showing off his bandaged chest. "Yeah, sure I got careless at the end but the fact that he could even touch me in the first place…" Paul trailed off, letting everyone else silently understand the implications of what he was saying. Meanwhile, I was growing more and more wary of where he was going to go with this. Writing me off as some sort of prodigy was fine—certainly better than being an extradimensional alien—but the inevitability of having more attention placed on me was already giving me a headache.

"What are you trying to say, Paul?" Lilia asked. Of course, everyone in the room knew what Paul was insinuating, but it only meant anything straight from the man himself.

Paul turned to Zenith with a serious look on his face. "Do you remember our compromise when we settled down? If we had a girl, we'd teach her magic. If we had a boy, we'd make him a swordsman."

His wife nodded. "I remember, though you never brought it up before."

A grimace briefly crossed his face. "Well, I'd like to finally make use of it. From what I saw, and from you two have seen as well—" all three adults made eye contact "—it's obvious Shirou is a natural genius. Doesn't it make sense that he starts training now to be a swordsman?" Paul reasoned.

"Don't want him to be lazy like you?" Zenith asked.

"He has way more potential than me. Since I was there in person to actually see and experience it, I know what happened. I'm pretty sure Shirou inherited my super strength and speed. That's why he was able to defeat me in our duel. He unlocked his ability right before he was going to get hit," " Paul shot back.

"That thing you do when you're fighting? When you go 'Hwah!' or 'Argh'!" Zenith made some mocking faces as she mimicked Paul's fighting style with her hands, prompting a small smile from the maid and a wry look from Paul himself.

"Admittedly I am less experienced in these matters, but I can attest to his reasoning," Lilia supported. "Nothing can swing a swordsman's blade faster than death. There are plenty of cases of warriors awakening their latent talent in moments of crises."

Lilia was correct. Humans are beings of emotion, and there are scarcely few stronger emotions than the feeling of impending death. It's a sensation every experienced warrior has encountered, when years of diligent training is thrown to the wind and you're left with nothing but primal instinct, when the adrenaline of battle fogs your mind, and your body moves like a puppet on strings. In that state, humans are no better than rabid animals, and nothing is scarier than when an animal with nothing left to lose is backed into a corner and the only way out is to fight.

I had seen this firsthand already, during the Holy Grail War. Berserker had emitted an aura of absolute dread, as if he could render me a meaty smudge on the ground at any given moment—which he could have—and that still somehow understated his abilities. Despite all her training and technique, even Saber's graceful sword strikes and immaculate footwork were unable to match Berserker's crude and unpolished fighting style for very long. The Madness Enchantment may not have been the most optimal of choices, given it locked away most of Heracles's more potent noble phantasms, but the sheer brutality and power behind that stone slab of his could not be denied, and in a more normal grail war, I'm sure there was a very good chance he would have been the last one standing.

Ultimately, technique is a crutch invented by humans to overcome physically superior enemies. Technique allowed for humans to maximize their pitiful bodily gifts, but if you could swing harder and faster than your opponent, then that's all that really mattered.

Paul nodded at her words. "For people like us, we can only fight at our best when we're trying our hardest to survive."

Zenith frowned at the impromptu lesson. "So, it's not a fluke, huh?"

Paul shook his head. "Even if he didn't win our spar, he's shown more than enough talent. Wait, why are you so hung up over this? Weren't you the one who was like, 'My baby is going to be so special!' when you were pregnant?"

"It's just…" Zenith sighed, unable to find the words to convey what she truly wanted to say. "Never mind, we can talk about it later." She let out another tired exhale, her eyes growing more sunken in their sockets. "As for your idea… I agree."

The injured man looked like he had a retort on his lips before he realized what Zenith had just said, leaving his mouth slightly agape as he struggled to process her words. "You… do…?"

The woman looked annoyed that Paul was so surprised. "Yes, I do. He's talented, obviously. It makes sense to nurture his potential."

"I... just didn't think you would agree so easily. Oh well, makes it easier for me then."

A polite cough cut through the conversation.

"If I may, I would like to ask something of Lady Zenith," Lilia spoke up from her place on the other side of Paul's bed. The blond woman raised an eyebrow, but I could tell that it wasn't necessarily out of surprise at the maid's interjection. "Before, you wanted Shirou to have a relaxed childhood as a normal child. With that in mind, are you sure this is the best course of action?"

Zenith's mouth opened but found that nothing came out. Azure orbs bore down on the troubled woman, the third resident of the house finally making her concerns known. A part of me was also surprised considering I never saw Lilia argue against her employers. The woman was a devout professional, so for her to be voicing her worries in this manner made me think that something serious enough had happened for her to cross briefly cross the line between the two.

Ah, but then again, Lilia has been growing more audacious lately. Slowly but surely, they were becoming less master and servant and more friends. It was due to that relationship that Lilia questioned Zenith, making sure the woman knew exactly what she was doing, that this outcome is what she truly wanted.

That was good; having someone to rely on would be better for Zenith.

Lilia's concerns were justified. Considering Zenith's appeal to me earlier, it wasn't wrong for Lilia to find Zenith's change in attitude abnormal.

"It's become rather… clear to me that my approach was wrong," Zenith admitted. "Like I said, he's gifted. It's as plain as day to everyone in this room." The two other adults nodded, and I felt sheepish at how poorly my acting had been to this point. "Before, I had tried to hide his potential to let him experience what it's like being a normal kid, but clearly it hasn't worked. If that's the case… then there's no point in going against it." Her voice wavered, but the woman continued, "And besides, was that even the right thing to do? It's not fair to him. If this is the way things are, then I'd much rather we cultivate his talent as best we can now while we still can… in case something happens."

"In case what happens?" Paul asked.

"Just… something. You can't ever be too sure nowadays."

Lilia still seemed like she had something to say but bit back her words before giving a nod. "If that is your decision, then I will not go against it. Paul, you believe similarly, correct?"

"Yup. It just doesn't seem right doing nothing when he can be better. Plus, he can be a knight like his old man." Paul shrugged.

"I see," Lilia said with a terse tone. "In that case, as long as Master Shirou agrees, then I hold no objections." The maid retracted from the conversation for now, content to let the married couple sort out the details.

To be showing such concern over me… how much was I missing?

"Shirou and I already talked about it, but I'll be handling his training for now. Sorry, but I'll be taking him from you for now, Zenith," Paul said, the smile on his smile neither entirely genuine nor mocking.

"That's fine. He's yours," the woman responded simply.

"You mean to train Shirou yourself, Paul?" Lilia asked.

The man nodded affirmatively. "I do. I know what it's like to be so gifted when you're young, so I can make sure he doesn't become an arrogant brat. Plus, I have loads of experience from my adventuring days to teach him actually useful stuff, and since I know a lot about each school of swordsmanship, I know what styles he'll like the best," he reasoned.

"Wait, I thought you couldn't explain half the things you usually do?" Zenith asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That's true," Lilia agreed. "Paul is very proficient in combat, but his talents do not translate very well to teaching, I'm afraid. He is unable to properly articulate how he is able to do the things he does," Lilia elaborated for me at seeing the puzzled expression on my face.

Ah, someone who did not know the fundamental basis of their abilities. I was like that at one point in time, and perhaps even now still. Another similarity between us, I suppose. Fortunately, I had some guidance from people far smarter than me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, very funny," Paul said while rolling his eyes. "Like it or not, I'm the best swordsman around here. If you want someone better…" Paul cocked his head pensively before settling into a contemplative lull. "Huh, that's not actually a bad idea."

Chilly blue orbs narrowed into slits as a displeased frown carved deep grooves into her face. "Don't tell me…"

He smiled sheepishly as the man looked away guiltily, unsurprised at his wife's displeasure. "Hey, you said you wanted Shirou to be trained, right? She can do the same thing I do, and King-level swordsmen don't exactly grow on trees. She's the best person we can find unless you can find someone better than her. Plus, we partied with her, remember? She would be more willing to help."

"Yes, I'm sure that's all there is to it. Surely, there are no other intentions attached to your suggestion," Zenith mocked with a roll of her eyes.

Paul winced at her words. "I swear, I'm a good boy!" The man's guilty smile faltered at the sight of the blonde woman giving him a sour look. "Okay, so maybe I'm not so good of a boy, but I promise I won't do anything!" Going by the visage of displeasure on Zenith's face that looked to have been carved from solid stone, the woman wasn't buying his argument.

From the glimpses of the history behind the sword Paul constantly carried with him and the memories imbued in it, I knew that he was used to fighting alongside another warrior beyond even someone of Paul's caliber. Any information I could glean besides that was far too hazy to interpret, but judging from the current conversation, the possible mentor Paul was referring to was a woman that he had some… experience with. Not at all surprising considering it was Paul, but I could understand Zenith's reluctance in these matters.

"Is it truly necessary to find someone even more skilled than Paul?" Lilia asked. "Skill with the blade does not mean skill with words, and as skeptical of Paul's training methodology I might be, he is here and willing, which is more than anyone of comparable proficiency in this region."

Lilia brought up a good point. Now that I think about it, it didn't make much sense for someone other than Paul to teach me. I assumed that his Paul was simply to spend more time with me, and offloading the task of teaching me to another person was counterproductive towards that goal.

"Err, yeah… but I can't teach him for long," Paul confessed awkwardly. "He's already picked up on some stuff from me. If I train him, I give him maybe a year, maybe two tops, before he's better than me in pure technique. After that, all he really needs is to train his body, but that's something that can only be done with more time. At that point, the only thing I can do is just be a sparring partner."

I internally questioned whether his assessment was correct. His judgment on our techniques with the sword was not entirely true; during our brief spar, I had only shown him a small bit of what I was capable of. Granted, I was putting in a decent amount of effort, but in no way was I fully tapping into the millennia upon millennia of experience residing within me.

Still, to just so brazenly admit that his skill level was equivalent to a child barely to his hip, especially as a prodigy in his own right, did Paul have no sense of shame?

Ah, never mind, now that I thought of it, it made perfect sense.

I examined the reactions of the two women. Lilia seemed a bit skeptical. After all, having the best swordsman she's probably ever met admitting that he was going to be eclipsed by the four-year-old in the foreseeable future was a stretch by any means, even with peculiarities taken into account. Still, the maid didn't seem like she wasn't totally dismissing the thought, muttering to herself while trying to hide her furtive glances between Paul and me.

More perplexing was Zenith, whose expression had remained stoic the whole time. The head-scratching confession by Paul had little effect on her, the woman receiving the admission with nothing more than a small frown on her face. If anything, from the hints of resignation on her face, Paul's words merely affirmed the suspicions Zenith had been holding this whole time.

"If it can't be helped, then we have no choice," Zenith conceded. "If you think this is the best thing for him, then I trust your judgement." She got up from her chair, moving over to the window to the side of the room. Night had long settled upon the village, the warm rays of dusk having been replaced by the dim glow of moonlight as the bright white sphere slowly elevated further into the black, starry sky. With a click, Zenith opened the window, letting in a gust of cool, evening air. The woman leaned against the windowsill, basking in the pleasant breeze as rays of white framed her figure.

"What I think?" Paul glared at her from their bed as he scowled. "Look, I know this is my idea, but you're still his mother too, in case you forgot. You don't get to just say, 'I trust your judgement'. Your input matters too, and if you don't think this is a good idea, then we can try something else or drop it."

Zenith turned around but didn't make a move to come closer to Paul, instead remaining on the far side of the room. From the angle we were looking at, her silhouette was cast against the soft light of the moon that entered the window, obscuring her face in darkness.

"I don't think my judgement has been very useful so far," she said frankly. I couldn't make out her features, but I could imagine the tight line of a frown that was becoming a common sight on her face. "Paul's idea seems worth a shot. If nothing else, I have nothing else to try."

"What Paul might be referring to," Lilia cut in abruptly before Paul could say a word, "is that as Shirou's parent, you should be parenting him alongside Paul. There is no 'taking turns', as one might say."

Paul thought about Lilia's words once over before giving an acquiescing nod. "Yeah, sums it up, actually."

Zenith's head turned towards the outside, the image looking every bit of a wistful woman reminiscing better times. "It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" she whispered, her faint words not reaching Paul or Lilia. She sighed, standing up straight as she looked firmly at Paul. "Don't worry, this is what I want too. I don't disagree with your methods."

Paul gave her a disbelieving look. "You sure don't seem like it. Are you sure you're actually okay with this?"

Zenith gave him a singular nod. "I am. I'm just a bit tired right now."

Paul and Lilia locked eyes for a second before the man shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess that settles that."

"Please do not be so hasty, Paul. There's one more person you have to make things clear with," Lilia said. Seeing his raised eyebrow, Lilia merely responded by waving her hand towards the side, gesturing to me. "With the full details of your plan laid out, it would behoove you to ask Master Shirou once again if this change in lifestyle is something he truly wants. I doubt he knew all you had in mind when he initially agreed to your suggestion."

Paul coughed embarrassedly, his cheeks flushed a healthy crimson as he awkwardly met my eyes. "Um, yeah, whoops, forgot about that. Sorry, I got caught up in the moment for a bit," he laughed away good-naturedly. "Well, what do you want to do, Shirou? I'm sorry we've been talking about what to do with you this entire time without asking. This goes without saying, but your input is the most crucial step. We're not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. Your future is yours to decide," Paul affirmed.

Their knowledge in the blade was appreciated but ultimately unnecessary. All I needed was a single glance at the weapon Paul and his friend to fully encapsulate the entire breadth of their experience. In that respect, a mentor was the last thing I needed.

What was a boon I could not overlook was the opportunity to train my body and techniques. Before now, I had to hide my activities in the cover of the night, something that was apparently not as hidden as I thought. However, with the excuse of training underneath Paul, I could freely exercise my body and mind during the day. For someone such as myself, this was the only path left for me. Emiya Shirou was a sword, and to stray from it was the height of arrogance.

Strength and power, that was what I needed. It was a dangerous line I tip-toed. History is rife with men who lost themselves in the pursuit of greater heights. For my journey to mean anything, I couldn't afford to lose myself. I was alone this time, the previous people who had helped me stay on my path long gone. The resolve to an unwavering beacon of steel would have to come from the depths of my own soul.

Strength not for the sake of strength itself, but as a means to an end. To stop all these lives that slip through my fingers time and again, I needed to be stronger. This blade that was my soul had to be tempered to the keenest of edges to cut down the swathes of enemies in my way. Archer had said that the path of a hero would be one of bloodshed, and I had no doubt that by the time I am done, there would be mountains of bloodied corpses in my wake. If I was to truly embrace my role, I couldn't afford to be complacent.

And perhaps when it is all said and done, I could return to Illya and recite to her the answers I had gleaned on this journey.

Of course, Paul's wish still stuck out in my mind, but analyzing the situation in such a pragmatic and logical manner… it couldn't be helped.

As much as I wanted to differentiate myself from those two, we were ultimately birds of the same feather, and the lines that divided us blurred together at times.

"I would be grateful to be learn under anyone's tutelage. If you believe yourself unfit to teach me, then I trust any replacement you deem suitable."

Paul smiled at my decision. "Perfect. That settles that. Don't worry, she's significantly better than me. Even you'll need a few years to whet your teeth on her," he winked, and I sighed. Honestly, his blunt flattery of my aptitude for combat was rather off-putting. It drew too much attention to me, who preferred to keep all my cards hidden until the most opportune time. Then again, maybe it was too late for such acting now.

"Speaking of training, I… wanted to propose something as well," Zenith said. When all eyes turned to her, she took a deep breath, trying to internally steady herself before continuing, "We should enroll him under formal magic lessons under a magician."

Her idea astonished Paul and Lilia. This was clearly the first they heard of it, and the abruptness of it all prevented them from masking the doubt on their faces.

"Are you sure about that? Making Shirou study magic and swordsmanship seems a bit… excessive," Lilia questioned hesitantly. "Besides, why do you think he has talent for the magical arts? Wasn't his display against Paul more of bodily prowess?"

Zenith's eyes darkened, balls of azure clouding over with a storm of emotions. Her features twisted into an expression of conflict, the fleeting image vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "That's only what Paul thinks. At the very least, we should get someone knowledgeable in magic to come here and give their opinion. It's not very day an Advanced-level swordsman gets put on his ass by a child."

"You think he used magic?" Paul asked, ignoring her remark. He cocked his head to the side as he remembered the details of what happened before he fell unconscious. "I guess there's a chance it wasn't the thing I usually do, but this would be the first time I heard of a magician actually doing something in melee combat. I mean, he didn't chant anything, so it couldn't have been a spell. Though now that I think about it, there was definitely a rush of something when I got hit."

"A child skilled in both magic and the sword…" Lilia's words trailed off as she gazed at me with a glint of reverence in her eyes. The respect in her tone was easy enough to see through, her admiration for the talents that were being revealed in front of her plain, but the underlying trepidation in her words brought me no comfort.

Well, I wasn't sure what angle Zenith was playing now, but truthfully it didn't matter too much to me. If she was setting me up for something, I would deal with it when the time came, but I couldn't ignore the benefits she was giving me.

The prospect of taking on another tutor didn't bother me the slightest. The real issue is that I was concerned that any and all magecraft in this world would be inaccessible for me to utilize. As someone whose element and origin were "Sword", the selection of magecraft available for my personal use was very limited.

I looked onwards, into my soul, into my Unlimited Blade Works, the very manifestation of my ideals. It was the one true specialization of magecraft allowed to Emiya Shirou, the very pinnacle of his powers, the distortion of his mind and body made unbound onto reality. To try and deviate from it was ultimately an exercise in futility.

Still, I pondered on the thought further. Attempting to use this world's magecraft was useless but having a working knowledge of this world's magic system could be invaluable. Of course, I would seem like the worst student in existence, but that was something I was more than familiar with.

"I wouldn't be averse to taking on more studies," I said.

Paul looked at me dubiously before letting out a breath he had been holding. "Well, I guess if you really want to, we can definitely try. It's the least Zenith can ask for since your swordsmanship training is a sure thing now."

Zenith huffed. "You always wanted to raise a swordsman. I wanted a magician. I guess we can both get what we want, huh?"

Husband and wife chuckled at the irony of it all while Lilia slapped a hand over her face, disappointed in their demeanor.

"Well, that settles it. If he wants it, then that's all we need to talk about. I'll need to get in contact with Ghislaine. I'm not sure which godforsaken corner of the world she's in right now, so getting a response might be tricky, especially with the increased monster activity on the roads nowadays. I'll probably need to make a trip to Ars or Roa myself to get the letter sent to her. Couldn't hurt to make a request for a posting asking for a magician's help with the possibility of a further tutoring job to be made in all the major cities as well," Paul rattled off.

If anything, Paul was quick on his feet and good at making plans. I wondered if he was the leader of the adventuring party he and Zenith kept hinting at earlier. It would certainly fit.

"Anyway, we can talk more tomorrow. Shirou, I'm going to be out of commission for the time being while I heal the rest of this injury. In the meantime, I can supervise your exercises and do some basic teaching in the major swordsmanship schools. If Ghislaine ever shows up, she can help out however she wants to," Paul explained.

I nodded, doing my best to speak as little as possible. It seemed that things were settling down, and I didn't need to accidentally spark a fire. Prior experience told me that it was best to keep my mouth shut anyways.

The occupants of the house fell silent, each member having a plethora of thoughts to sift through. This evening had left everyone with a good deal of things to ponder on, myself included.

"I believe it's time for the evening to come to a close. I'm sure Paul still needs more time to recover," Lilia suggested. I glanced at Paul, and true enough, he did seem slightly paler now. I guess he was putting up a front earlier, and I failed to notice.

Paul nodded, wiping off the sweat that was building up on his forehead. "Damn, this is how long I can last? Sheesh, I gotta get back into shape." He nodded at me, flashing me a cocky grin and giving me a thumbs-up. I blankly stared at him, tilting my head in confusion but returning the gesture, nonetheless. If anything, his smile grew at my response.

"Agreed. All that healing was tiring. I'm getting ready for bed," Zenith said, getting up from her chair. Like clockwork, her announcement seemed to jumpstart the other two adults into motion. Lilia started collecting and putting away the rags and basins used earlier. It was only now I noticed that many of the rags were stained red with blood, and the water was a disgusting, murky color with chunks of… stuff floating near the top. I scrunched up my nose at the sight, wondering just what had happened during the healing process. Paul wasn't outwardly bleeding when I brought him inside. Was there a lot of internal damage? It was a certainty, but I would have thought that Zenith's healing magic would have remedied that issue. Perhaps there were more limitations to her magic than I was aware of.

Paul started moving out of the bed, but a hand on his shoulder from Zenith stopped him in his tracks. When he raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, she merely glared at him in response.

"You are not letting my hard work go to waste."

Paul looked a bit miff at her stalwartness but remained on the bed regardless, crossing his arms like an indignant child. Zenith continued pinning him underneath her glare, stopping him from moving lest he incur her wrath. From an outsider's point of view, it might even seem like this was some weird form of flirting, but I knew better… I think… Oh god…

"Well, I'll be in my room if you require me." With a curt nod to the adults of the house, I showed myself out of the room.

Entering the quieter confines of my own bedroom, I let out a sigh of exhaustion. Somehow, someway, while the conversation didn't transpire quite how I preferred it, things could've ended much worse, and this entire household could've exploded in violent fashion, so it was best to take what I was given. Paul and Zenith more or less came to their own conclusions while Lilia interjected occasionally. From what I could tell, Paul seems firm on protecting me and believed that the incident was just a product of my uncontrollable inherited talents, which wasn't necessarily wrong. Zenith's strange change of heart is slightly concerning, but she's more or less accepted that I couldn't change for her, so that was one less thing she had to worry about.

I stretched my back, the feeling of my back popping and unwinding after a long day of stress giving me immense relief. I finally let my shoulders sag, not realizing how much pressure I had placed on them this entire time. I laid down onto my bed, and turning my head to the side, I looked out through the window and into the open sky. The beautiful moonlit night from earlier was shining just a bit brighter now, and more faint, twinkling stars decorated the canvas of black above me. Judging from the looks of things, I would have to wait a few hours before starting tonight's training session. Paul was in no condition to try and follow me, but it couldn't hurt to shift my hours even later to reduce the chance of other people spying on me. If Paul had managed to sneak past my detection, then it was entirely possible that Lilia or Zenith had as well. Granted, neither woman had shown signs, but Paul hadn't either until he had told me.

It was unfortunate, but this was the price I had to pay for my lack of diligence. Or perhaps it was not negligence but instead apathy. After all, even if Zenith or Lilia knew, I could not find it within myself to stop what I was doing. My goal laid far beyond, and I couldn't afford to stop at any point.

I sat up, turning to the window and opening it. Immediately, the refreshing wind of this world greeted me, inviting a pleasant coolness to the room. I leaned forward, enjoying the feeling of the night air against my face.

My indecision would be the end of this tranquil life. I could already see the threads that bound this life together starting to unravel. I had decided from the start to set myself upon a path of pain and misery, the road to heroism I had once overlooked. And yet, time and again, I had pulled myself back from fully embracing that path, not wanting others to suffer needlessly for the choices I made.

But in the end, I couldn't stop myself from hurting others, and I wasn't sure if I could ever find it within myself to make such callous choices in the future. Regardless, the consequences of my actions were mine to bear; I could only hope that I would be the only one to suffer under their weight.

This day marked the end of such peaceful times, of that I was certain. The events of today had been in the making since the very beginning, bursting like an overinflated balloon this afternoon.

But this was only the beginning. Who knew how many similar incidents I had already set in motion since I was reborn in this new world? A future was uncertain, as unreadable as a wall of fog, and despite what the others had believed, these eyes of mine were blind to the thing most important to me.

I let my head fall into the cushiony depths of the pillow, barely noticing how the soft fabric caressed my head. I had a few hours to burn… Maybe it was time to take a short bit of respite? Rest was unfortunately a requirement to maintain optimal bodily function. How long had I been awake this time? A week or two? Maybe a month? Or more? When was the last time I truly slept? Sleep wasn't a strict necessity up to a certain point, a point I had managed to push further and further back as I continued using magecraft to keep myself awake for longer and longer. It wasn't healthy, of course, I couldn't wait.

This accursed body of mine… if only I could develop faster. The spar earlier with Paul confirmed what I had already suspected. My general technique was solid, but nowhere near the infamous and acclaimed skill level of the servants I had faced in my previous life. In addition to that, my speed and strength were lacking, outright preventing me from executing certain maneuvers and putting me at a severe disadvantage against people who had both technique and physical gifts.

So much to do but nothing to show for it yet. It felt like I had all the time in the world to do what I wanted to do, yet why did it seem like time was already slipping through my fingers? The feeling of having so much freedom yet being confined and restrained at the same time… I couldn't quite shake it off.

Some might say that such lofty expectations and criticisms of the fighting ability of a child was foolish, but for the sake of my future plans, I couldn't afford that luxury. I had already seen true monsters, beings that were power incarnate, and if I wanted any chance of beating anything within their realm of strength, I couldn't allow myself any excuses. No one would go easy on me just because I was physically a child, so I had to do the same for myself.

No, my current level just wouldn't do at all. For all my training and experience, Paul had decisively and easily made quick work of me. Yes, I wasn't going all out, and yes, I wasn't fully utilizing my magecraft, but there would be times where I could not simply let loose with the entirety of my arsenal. Ironically enough, the powers I had been granted worked best when I was alone, the very thing I had tried to avoid in my previous life and the inevitable ending I foresaw in this current existence.

For every single part of our bout, I was fighting tooth and nail to extract any iota of an advantage I could, trying my absolute best to find a foothold in the unscalable wall that was Paul Greyrat. And if it wasn't for him letting down his guard at the very end, I would've lost. And the reason I won? Nothing I could easily replicate. Last second powerups from traumatic memories wasn't the most reliable method to fight.

I couldn't afford to fully expand the Unlimited Blade Works on every single moderately strong enemy. It was simply asking for the vultures in the ensuing battle to come pick up the pieces afterwards. That is why I had to raise my baseline fighting capabilities to deal with people of Paul's skill-level. If I could do that, then I would be set to conserve my strength for the real threats of this world.

A few hours… hopefully this body of mine would serve its purpose before it crumbled to dust and nothingness.

With thoughts of the tumultuous road ahead, my eyes closed swiftly, my body immediately falling into an instant slumber as it struggled to recuperate from the stress it had undergone.

---

It was hell.

A sea of living flames burned as far as the eye could see, stained crimson with the blood of countless people. The absolute blackness of the sky was tinted an ominous sanguine with the veil of bronze smoke that obscured it. The cackling laughter of fire drowned out the horrific screams of pain and desperate pleas for help of the people it engulfed.

It was hell.

Where people burned to crisps, where homes smoldered away to ashes, where the very land was scarred with the lamentations of the damned and broken. Where dreams withered away and died, and futures were rewritten into an endless void of flames.

It was hell.

The milky white orb in the sky radiated its usual pale soft moonlight, completely ignorant of the ghastly torture occurring below, the serene and beautiful sight unable to truly mask the dreadful nightmare.

It was hell.

The fire continued on, uncaring for the innumerable souls it had consumed, only seeking more and more to fuel the blazing vengeful flames it covered upon the land. It was no ordinary fire. It was living and breathing, the very manifestation of malice given form, an unstoppable force of death with a vampiric thirst for human life.

There was no escape. There was no life. There was no hope. Nothing but a sad and pitiful end. Only the inevitability of death, to be consumed by the flames of evil as the conflagration stretched its twisted, malignant grasp around the world.

The night proceeded onwards, the wicked inferno blazing as more and more lives were fed to satiate its ravenous hunger. Houses toppled and crashed, the eternal memories and histories they held reduced to serving as mere kindling for the fire. Mothers cried out as their children died in their arms, moments before they met their own ends as the flames engulfed them. People crawled on their stomachs, trapped underneath their very own homes, the burning timbers searing themselves into their skin. The strength in their legs was long lost, trying their hardest to escape the fiery fingers that took hold of them. They howled into the night sky, begging for mercy that was denied as they were swallowed whole, their lives snuffed out like a lit matchstick. Others managed to escape the flames of damnation, a fleeting yet living hope igniting within them, only to collapse as they realized that the smoke had thoroughly invaded their bodies, filling every minute crevice of their lungs with burning gas that cooked them from the inside out. They fell down, choking to death slowly but surely, their last moments a dreadful calm as they stilled for the final time.

The blazing inferno finally reached its end. It sputtered for a few more agonizing minutes, the last embers of its life slipping away to nothingness. There were no more human lives to fuel its conquest, its carnage leaving the land barren and destitute. It had removed all life from the area, cursing it with countless souls screaming in agony, their voices left unheard and carried away with the wind.

No one could have survived. Of course not, how could they? A disaster born straight from Angra Mainyu, the evil god of Zoroastrianism, a being far beyond humanity. A tragedy created for the sole purpose of destruction and death, a culling machine meant to kill as many humans as possible. It was a foregone conclusion that no human could have survived his wrath.

And yet perplexedly, two still lived.

One human, and one the farthest from it. One who had orchestrated the machinations of this apocalypse and one an unfortunate victim of it. Perhaps those very reasons are why they had managed to brave through the inferno.

They had survived the rampage of the firestorm, escaping from Hades by the slimmest of margins. But while they had managed to steal their lives from death's grasp, they didn't come out entirely unscathed.

Blisters ran all over their bodies, marks from where the flames had licked at them. Their eyes were bloodshot from the smoke, and their clothes were tattered and singed.

One figure was hovering over the other. His face was bright with joy and gratitude, his eyes watering with tears as they cascaded down his face like rivers, dripping into the person below. He held the other's hand to his cheek, caressing it with the love of a thousand fathers, gripping it tightly like it was his lifeline—it was, his last connection to humanity. His lips were spread wide in a thankful smile, and for once in a very long while, the man felt his heart beat once more.

It was a beautiful sight, the salvation the man had long yearned for finally presenting itself to him at last. Only after countless corpses piled onto mountains of bodies and countless sins accumulated and etched into his soul was the man able to find his own deliverance, at the very end of this world.

It was picture-esque, a snapshot of time perfectly representing humanity. Surrounding them was a sea of evil, hate and spite incarnated onto the Earth. A calamity of the man's own design, the depraved, sinister depths of his soul bearing fruit and fulfilling his wishes. Yet he paid it no mind, the mere simple act of saving the boy in front of him enough to stave off his despair.

Th duality of humanity: inspiring, magnificent little stars amidst a void of perpetual darkness.

How ironic was it then, that the very boy he saved could scarcely be considered human at all. And maybe it was for that reason why the fire had not consumed him.

His eyes were blank, his soul burned to its very core. A blank slate, nothing but a sack of living flesh. He had no memories, no soul, no past, no future. His expression was empty, unable to process any emotion.

He could not understand why the man above him held onto him with such fervor. And yet, the man still clung to him desperately, as of this feeling was fleeting and ephemeral, like the boy could vanish at any moment.

Why?

Why was he looking at him like that?

What had he done to deserve such a captivating smile?

---

Golden orbs lazily opened. One eye testily revealed itself, blurry and unfocused for the most minute of moments before its companion followed suit. A tentative blink, slow and methodical, and their gaze circled sound the room, scrutinizing its surroundings before they closed, satisfied with the results of its search.

Emiya Shirou awakened from his slumber. He took a deep breath, the long exhale the only indication of his slight discomfort. It was that dream again, one of fire and death. One where he had died previously, burning and perishing in a fiery blaze until nothing was left. And from those ashes, he was reborn once again, never quite the same, living another existence entirely.

He was accustomed to such dreams. They had plagued him constantly in his previous life, and long were the nights where he had turned endlessly, unable to purge the images of the fire that had given birth to him out of his head. Over and over, his mind replaying visions of his sins and atrocities, trembling for respite from the mental torture only for his pleas to go unanswered.

But given time, he had grown used to it, and now the only outwards sign that he had experienced it at all was a slight hitch of his breath upon waking. For an anguished existence such as Emiya Shirou, it was simply a way of life. Nowadays, his dreams were burdened by a different nightmare altogether. However, he had overcame that too.

Though perhaps overcame wasn't the correct term to use. After all, there was another reason why he sought to stave off the lull of slumber as much as possible.

He slipped out of his bed, nary making a sound as his feet landed upon the wooden floor. He moved like a ghost, practically floating across the room to the door, his presence barely felt by the world. He was as silent as an assassin, moving his young body with far more control and dexterity than most adults could in their entire lifetimes. One would be hard-pressed to believe he was a human, instead of a machine masquerading as one.

He slipped down the stairs, the movement of air the only hint he had been there at all, and with a practiced twist and deft step, he was out of the house.

Unbeknownst to him, he was not alone on this night. Cerulean orbs snapped open, the beautiful azure held within those sockets trembling and quivering in fear and paranoia. They say the eyes were the windows to the soul, and if one could look closely, they would still see the remnants of the nightmare she just experienced within those sapphire mirrors, the residual sanguine flames flickering in her pupils, tormenting her even in reality.

The woman sharply turned her head left and right, frantically looking for something yet finding nothing. She blinked rapidly, visions of a fiery wasteland morphing into the familiar confines of her bedroom. Moonlight shine through the window, illuminating the pitch-black room with a gentle, pale white glow, the tranquil setting a far cry from the chaos pestering her mind.

"It's just a dream," she told herself, though the words did little to comfort the woman. Her shoulders quivered and shook. The only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat as it pulsed rapidly inside of her chest, the organ painfully smashing itself over and over against her ribcage as it threatened to jump out of her. A singular, quiet sob escaped from her as a lone tear fell down her cheek. "It's just a dream…"

Unable to fall back asleep, she made to get out of bed, trying her best to do so as quietly and discretely as possible to not disturb her partner on the far side of the bed, where he slumbered peacefully after a long, stressful day. That particular issue would be something she would need to sort out another day. Right now, she had other priorities to get to. Not that it mattered anyway. She had long since lost any semblance of confidence in the proper course of action. She had no idea what she was doing anymore, not since the day he was born.

She placed her legs over the bed, placing one foot on the floor hesitantly. The tremors ransacking her body made it difficult to move properly but allowing the sturdiness of the floor to support her, she managed to get both feet onto the floor and stand upright. She wobbled slightly, losing her balance briefly before she steadied herself. Stumbling to the window, leaning her torso precariously against the windowsill, the woman was a far cry from the seasoned veteran adventurer she was, the strength she had built all those years having wilted away, reducing her to the pitiful mess she was now.

She gazed outwards, her half-lidded eyes focusing not on the tranquil peace of the night but set far inside her mind instead. Her brain was running rampant, conjuring hallucinations she had no wish to see but no choice to bear, nonetheless. She replayed those disturbing scenes over and over in her head, unable to stop subjecting herself to the torture. Her heart ached and twisted, emotions frothing forth until it flooded over her completely in a cascade of grief and anguish.

She internally berated herself. She was better than this. How many dreams had she already witnessed? Dozens by now? Maybe even a hundred or two? She had long lost count. They didn't come every night. Sometimes it took months between dreams, sometimes weeks, sometimes one came right after another after another after another. They did not have a particular pattern from what she could tell, only that they were more frequent nowadays. Now, she could expect one at least once a week. They didn't used to be nearly as vivid or immersive either. Before, it used to only be flashes, maybe with some brief sounds. She could barely understand what was happening in those visions, if she could even recall them outright. There were times where she had woken up with tears trailing down her face but no recollection of what had caused them. However, nowadays she was like a spectator, removed and detached from the events she was privy to observing.

But that one… that nightmare was on a far greater scale than all the other ones. It was almost as if she was there in person, feeling the bites and scratches of the damning fire on her own skin and the hoarseness of her throat as she shrieked and cried out in agony only for her voice to have long since expired, experiencing the slow, encroaching dreadful realization that her life was going to end in that fiery desert. Those sensations etched themselves into her very soul; while the finer points of her other visions were always lost to her memories, she had no issue perfectly remembering every miniscule detail of this one.

She had no idea what had caused this. No, that was a lie. She had a very strong suspicion of what had occurred, but it had always been a theory that she had tried her hardest to deny but could never completely extinguish. The doubt had always been there, constantly in the back of her mind, every word and every action made with those traitorous thoughts within her. In her desperation to snuff out her skepticism, to atone for the crime of distrusting her own flesh and blood, she had thrown herself recklessly into her role, giving all of her heart into raising him as best she could. However, in the end, it was all for naught, and perhaps that annoying voice in the back of her mind had been right all along and that those dreams had been a warning all this time. Lilia had tried her best to advise her, the woman having been a rather close confidant, and she had recommended that she continue her course, praying that her genuine feelings reach through to him, but now, after that heart-rending scene she had been privy to, it was far too much, and it was all too clear that her efforts to his point all ended in futility.

A thump caught her attention, and she turned her head towards the window. Funnily enough, the object of her turmoil made itself known, and the child bounced and moved like no four-year-old should have been able to. She quickly moved to the side, only allowing a sliver of her vision to see him. She was sure he couldn't see her, but there was no need to risk anything unnecessarily.

His movements were far more refined and practiced during this time of the day. It was when he dropped the façade, acting like a seasoned assassin hunting one of his marks. There was no hint of the childish innocence he falsely portrayed in front of them, only burnt bronze orbs dimly shining in the night.

The boy paused, tensing for a moment before all of a sudden, he disappeared, flickering out of existence. However, from the line of blurred air that quickly raced away from the house and firsthand experience from when she had tried to follow him one time, she knew he was heading to his usual training grounds inside the forest that surrounded the village.

That fateful night when her curiosity finally triumphed over her trepidation and paranoia, she had decided to finally follow her son and confront him—about his unhealthy habits, about the strange visions that haunted her, about the face that her child didn't seem like such a child.

But when she finally reached the grove that he might as well been his actual home, she stopped herself from calling out to him.

In his hand had been a simple sword, one almost as long as he was tall, yet he wielded it like a seasoned swordsman. He weaved through stances like a prodigy, his movements robust and firm yet exhibiting grace that would make the nimblest performers green with envy. He didn't simply go through the motions of swordsmanship, but rather he danced through them, making the practice look like a form of art so beautiful that she felt privileged to have had laid her eyes upon it. His sword flickered and vanished out of sight repeatedly, flashing through the air with enough speed to look like a constant circle of blurred steel.

He paused, and then the weapon in his hand disappeared into motes of blue light before coalescing into a different weapon—a spear. And just as easily as with a sword, he brandished it with supernatural expertise. Had she been on the pointed edge of his blade, she would have felt lucky to have been skewered by such sublime technique. It was strange how the arcs and twists and thrusts of the spear exuded such a hypnotizing beauty yet still managed to radiate such sharp deadliness.

She was an experienced adventurer and had partied alongside two genius warriors of the sword. She would not become so easily doe-eyed at any ordinary flashing show of steel. She knew firsthand what exceptional skill with the blade looked like, but the feelings she received from glimpsing this display of skill and magic was far above anything she had felt from the others before.

Still, as beautiful as it was, she could not ignore the nagging in her head—that the spear was the weapon of demons. With spears in hand, they had rampaged and tore through the human race twice now in wars that spanned centuries. How many families that been split apart and ended upon their jagged points? How much human blood coated its keen edges? How often had their tips been dipped and bathed in the flesh of unborn children in their mother's wombs?

And this was not even taking into account the Superd, the tribe hated among all races. The demonic wickedness of the spear had reached the peak of its infamy when the Superd had slaughtered everything in their battle-lust and madness.

It was superstition, yes, but a strong, justified one. Heroes in folk tales were often depicted with long, shining swords, the weapons of nobility and honor. But the sight in front of her, of a boy wielding an instrument of death and treachery with such efficiency, inspired only terror and panic.

Really, it was almost as if fate had been rubbing her folly into her face. It mocked her, showing her just exactly what she had been trying to ignore and hide this whole time. The worst part of it was that she could not deny her foolishness in the slightest bit. It had started out as gradual trepidation, but more dreams were shown to her, she had brushed them off. Then more and more of his abnormalities became apparent, and still she had ignored it all.

And what was the final result? A broken promise, one last desperate attempt by her to reach out to him, trampled over and destroyed. He had even harmed Paul, his own family—if he considered them family at all—and her nightmare was the final piece of the puzzle that brought everything together as her world came crashing down into shambles.

She knew he didn't mean to hurt her husband, that much she believed. However, the facts remained as is, and the terror that had gripped her heart when Paul had been slumped over unconscious while he remained stoic and cold…. Who could fault her for thinking the thoughts that pervaded her mind every day?

It was like a poison, seeping into the deepest orifices of her brain, contaminating her very soul. It was borderline blasphemy, even giving those toxic suggestions even the slightest iota of contemplation. However, as the days continued on, and the truth she had tried to refute all these years continued to be thrust into her face no matter where she looked, her resolve slowly withered into dust until she no longer had the strength to deny what was now clear.

"Then abandon him."

It would have been so simple. She could just get up and leave, take Paul and Lilia with her and move out. They had money to spare, and finding Paul a new job would have been easy considering his fighting prowess. Lilia too was an expert caretaker, so she could have found work as well.

They start over anew, perhaps have another child, and pretend this chapter of their lives never existed.

And that was even assuming she would have to be the one to restart. If she asked him to just up and go away, she doubted that he would have refused. He was polite like that, one of his characteristics she was thankful for. He would have understood, his knowledge of people and the world far beyond his age. Not to mention that he always seemed like he was on the brink of casting aside his mask, so having the choice made for me wouldn't have seemed so bad. Really, she didn't need any of that fake acting. If he wanted to leave so badly, he could go and do it. He'd be doing them a favor, ridding them of a thorn from their side.

If it was truly necessary… he was still a child. He was mortal, he could bleed. Who knew, she might even be doing the world a favor by killing—

She stopped, eyes widening as a sudden wave of nausea and disgust overcame her. She turned to the side, a stream of sickly green solid chunks and liquid bile—the breakfast he had made earlier—flooding out of her face. She dropped to her knees as the sounds of her horrid retching filled the room, its only other occupant none the wiser as she wallowed in her misery alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, the uncontrollable river of vomit finally stopped, and the woman managed to get her wobbling legs underneath her again. A hand came up to wipe at her mouth, her expression grimacing at the puke smeared on her skin. She took a deep breath, letting the calming rhythm of air flowing in and out of her body encompass the entirety of her thoughts. Thankfully, her heart started to relax, the earlier thumping against her chest slowing to a dull pace.

Such breathing exercises were helpful for her nowadays. Before, they had seemed only like a precaution, but now, she was grateful for the practiced guidance. When her thoughts became a whirlwind, finding her mental footing once again was a difficult endeavor.

She looked down, and her face scrunched up in disgust at the mess she had left on the floor. Bits and pieces laid scattered in a puddle at her feet, and some of the nauseating slop was seeping into the gaps between the floorboards. She made a note to herself to remove any traces of the incident occurring; she didn't need any more questions from Lilia about whether she was doing alright.

She clenched a fist, relishing how her fingernails dug into her palm, the pain cutting through the storm of emotions.

She was thinking too rashly. She didn't want to think about him that way. Like it or not, she had given birth to him, carrying him inside of her for nearly a year. The instinct of motherhood was engraved within her soul, the need to care for and protect him nearly superseding all else.

But as she had confided into Lilia earlier, he had no need for a mother. However, she couldn't find it within herself to not continue to act like one, the idealized image in her head spurring her onwards despite the lashes and scars she endured from its incompatibility with reality. She couldn't help herself, the self-destructive cycle simply part of her nature.

It was all she could do to have helped him out earlier in the evening when she had convinced the others to approve of his training in swordsmanship and magic. She didn't know much from her dreams, but she could sense that he was destined for things far greater than this humble life in their little village. He knew that too, hence why he pushed himself despite her heart breaking at the sight of her son throwing away the childhood she worked hard to cultivate for him, one that she never got to fully enjoy herself.

However, helping him out in this manner further alienated her because she knew it only served to drive her further apart from him. She wasn't Paul or Ghislaine; she could barely lift a sword, much less teach someone else how to use it. She wasn't very practiced in magic either, only capable of healing people and even then, in her only specialty, she was merely "okay" at it, someone barely of note. She could barely even heal Paul earlier, the internal trauma to his body proving too much for her abilities.

That's right, she would be spending time with people far more amazing than her, nurturing the talent she had shunned before, living up to the potential she knew laid within him.

And where did that leave her?

Unnecessary, that is what she was. Even with the plans she had set in motion in one last desperate attempt to feel needed, she was acutely aware of the fact that they served only the slightest of conveniences. In truth, the boy did not need anyone. Not her. Not Paul. Not Lilia. Not anyone. He had done perfectly well up to this point; there was no reason to think he could not keep going. The "wall" that so many people seemed to reach in the pursuit of mastery in their craft simply did not exist for him.

Unencumbered by human constraints. Transcendent above all limits.

The shift in the world so many years ago… Could it be…?

She let out a shaky breath, and she mentally started counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

She took a breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

The glass of the window fogged, obscuring her vision outside.

That's fine, she had seen enough. He was well past her eyesight anyway, long hidden from her view. Not that it mattered because she knew that whatever path he took, she knew that she would not be there with him at its end. She turned away, averting her eyes from the painful sight.

She had to hold on… but…

Zenith fought the urge to break down then and there, the tides of sourness swelling up within her heart tall enough to drown her entirely.

"What… did I do wrong?"

---

Um, hi?

People thought that I abandoned this story, but in reality, I just had a lot of stuff going on. Got a girlfriend, lost a girlfriend. Got a job, lost a job. Graduated from college, but thankfully I kept the degree. But you guys don't care about that, so I'll spare you the details.

This chapter has went through 2 or 3 large-scale revisions I believe. It's not surprising considering I'm trying to maintain so many layers of characterization while blending it subtly enough to make discovering it enjoyable but still in plain enough sight that my readers can still find it. Alas, my own pitiful writing ability makes it so these chapters naturally take a long time since I wouldn't release anything unless I was 95% satisfied with it.

Regardless, it's out now. I'm curious to see how many people are actually still looking forward to this story. It's been over a year since I updated, so I'm sure a lot of people moved on, but to the people who are still here, welcome back! I'm back with my usual overly pretentious philosophical dialogues, featuring our beloved protagonist and his mildly messed up family dynamics.

Honestly, since it's been a year, so I'm sure my strange writing seems very foreign right now. For once, I'll actually thoroughly what's happening in the chapter, both for your sake and mine. I have many developments in the works in the story and trying to keep them all straight is very annoying. In case you haven't noticed yet, I'm trying my utmost best to grow and develop these characters. Writing their characterization to be consistent but still evolving is a painful endeavor. Navigating that line between erraticness and staticness, where characters grow and change but not so much that they completely lose their identity, is one that I'm quickly finding out is far more difficult than I thought. I don't want my main characters to be static, hence why they tend to change, but I want that change to be somewhat foreshadowed if its applicable. Shirou is our main narrator in this story, and he's not the most reliable, especially since he has a hard time understanding people. Take his words with a grain of salt. It's natural things might come out of nowhere, both because of his unreliability, and because it's a first-person story with lots of things going on in the background.

Alright, onto the chapter itself. So, with this chapter, I have more or less revealed all my cards regarding the Greyrat family. Paul's secret was shown last chapter when he decided to accept Shirou as his son, the complete opposite of what he started out as. I did that to mainly show that Paul is an emotional, impulsive person but one with ultimately a good heart…kinda. He's a cheating bastard, but he's got his moments. Shirou does acknowledge this as well. And now that he seems set on keeping Shirou in the family, things are starting to look up, right?

Not quite. Zenith has unfortunately reached the climax of her indecision. I've tried my best to hint at her dwindling mental state throughout this fic. She's needed support from Lilia, and I've had Shirou comment on her rather… obsessive need to "fix" him. I'll be checking out the consistency of this story another day, but if you feel that I did not do a good enough job, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IN A REVIEW!

Okay, so I've shown that the driving force between Zenith's need to help Shirou have been these dreams all along. Don't worry, I'm not stealing from Third Fang. It's actually a somewhat major plot point I'm intentionally leaving open to whether or not I want to continue with it. I had toyed with the idea that Shirou was actually a heroic spirit, and he's not really a true human being and was thus summoned to this world. The dreams are a byproduct of that idea, similar to how masters dream of their servants' pasts. Regardless, the dreams did what I wanted them to do, which was to make Zenith doubt herself. As you can see, she's been bottling it up all these years, but it's way too much right now. Lilia was good for her, but it wasn't enough, and now she's in shambles. Ultimately, Lilia didn't give birth to Shirou and did not have these dreams—just a small lick of it—so she can't completely help Zenith. Zenith's little monologue at the end where she contemplates having Shirou lynched was a last minute addition, but I think it's a good addition to show how far she's been pushed. Yes, she wasn't completely serious, but the fact that the thoughts were there, and the ensuing reaction afterwards, should show her current mindset. She acknowledges that Shirou is… something, not really her son (or is that a misconception that she has right now?) but can't refute that she still cares and loves him. Hence why throughout the chapter, she's conflicted, resigned, blank, etc. Still, in the end, she helps him by getting him some magic tutoring, but admittedly I just wanted Roxy in here. If it seems like a bit of a stretch, let me know.

Well, best for last. Just like Zenith, our poor Shirou is very indecisive. He's constantly flip flopping between abandoning the Greyrats or sticking with them to make them happy. Ah, but sticking with them is causing them pain, so perhaps the answer is to leave? It's a nice little fork in the road I've put him on, and there's no really correct answer. That's actually intentional. I wasn't sure if the play was to have been abandon the family in some twisted way to saving them or to keep preserving, so I purposefully wrote this story in a way that it was fairly open, and I could decide later. I'm leaning towards one option right now, and Shirou has commented on it, but I'll leave that for you to dissect.

What else? He's very formal and constantly reminiscing. That first part is mainly to emphasize his inhumanity, and the second is to show that he's very… disconnected from this current world, and that his heart and mind are still firmly back in Fuyuki. Yes, he seems kinda like an old man, but this is his second life, and he was never very normal in the first place. Speaking of his heart and mind, I think this chapter marks the first time Shirou has directly confirmed that he doesn't see the Greyrats as family. Again, I've tried very hard keep it consistent, and Shirou subconsciously distancing himself from them is a common theme so far. Granted, he does indulge them every once in a while, but like I said, I want to show that constant indecision. Very obviously, Shirou continually changes how he approaches things is a core concept of this story. He believes he can't be anything more than that twisted notion of a hero, hence why he constantly compares himself to Archer and wants to get out there and start heroing ASAP, but sometimes it comes at the expense of hurting those around him, something he tries to avoid but inevitably ends up doing. That's why he doesn't just up and leave: it would wreck Paul and Zenith. Of course, he's going to hurt them either way, but that's just how it is.

Lilia is just chilling tbh. I'm mainly using her as a way to fill in conversation since Shirou doesn't like talking and Zenith is mentally dying right now. Oh, and I tried to flesh out Sylphiette's family. They have a very specific purpose in regards to the main characters. I'm not sure how many of you remember Law. He got like 3 lines in the LN, I think? Alice is completely new though, and honestly, I just pulled a name out of a hat.

Oh, and please forgive and point out any mistakes regarding the tenses. Sometimes I slip up and write in the present when not appropriate. I think I got them all, but you can never be too sure.

One last thing: I haven't read the WN, and I'm very behind on the LN (I think I'm still just right where Roxy and Rudy get married), but I have read a brief synopsis on the rest of the story. Truthfully, the ending is something I can easily work with, since I planned something very special for Shirou at the end, and the MT ending doesn't really interfere with that. I don't really know how I'm going to write everything between this arc and that last arc, but that's a problem for later. Really, I just need enough villains to throw at Shirou. My man needs to slice and dice. Speaking of fighting, it may seem like I'm gassing up Shirou very hard right now, but I'll try to make the fights not curbstomps. I'm really less concerned with the fight itself, and more about the repercussions of them, since I plan to give Shirou a lot more mental trauma. Regardless, I'm making out Shirou to be some weird unstoppable death robot, which I'm onboard with tbh.

Alright, I think that's everything. Please DM me if you have any questions. When people put questions in reviews, I'm not sure if they're doing so rhetorically or are genuine questions. I should probably answer them though... yeah… whoops? I also put my discord in my bio for anything pressing since I rarely check my inbox. Like I said, I'll be combing over this entire story later in the week, but for now I'm just going to relax. I'll see you all in 2025 when my next chapter is 30k words long.

Thank you for reading, and as always, have a good day!

A/N (2/10): And I do believe that with this final edit, not that anyone is actually reading them, I have wrapped up the quasi rewrite. Past me wasn't too far off the mark. It took me roughly a year to write the 37k word prologue rewrite. As for any new content, there's technically hints and pieces dropped in the edits to the chapters, but the actual new chapter 6 will be released… sometime. Dunno, as of now I haven't put a single thought into writing it since I've been focused on the rewrite and redoing all the chapters. But hey, with the slate freshly cleaned, maybe I can cook something. I have a decent plan, just need time and motivation.

As for this chapter, I do believe that it was mostly a rewrite of the trip to Sylphiette's house. I fleshed out her family a bit more, and I redid the return to the Greyrats house as well. Hopefully those two scenes feel a bit better to write. As for the end, I think I explained Zenith's mindset a bit more, and I rewrote how she encountered Shirou just chilling outside. Before he was just training under the window for no reason but now I'm having Zenith see him and recall the one time she actually followed him. I tempered her reaction a bit since it was slightly over the top but other than that, it's more or less the time. The main changes to Zenith all occurred in the previous chapters.

Okay, hopefully chapter 6 doesn't take long. I might be able to squeeze in Roxy in there… maybe…