The Turning Wheel of Fate
The Turning Wheel of Fate
‘Why are those two taking so long?’
Waver Velvet never had the hope that everything would go his way in that war. His experiences in the Clock Tower had broken any notion that anything could go willy-nilly for him.
He didn't expect things to get out of his control so fast.
“Oh, why did I have to follow that big idiot?”
Soon after the Caster of Hogwarts explained their current situation (it was just his luck that the rules for an ancient ritual would change when he participated), Rider asked where the closest library was. In his infinite wisdom, the magus said where it was.
And now there was he, hiding miserably while his two Servants did whatever they wanted in Fuyuki's public library.
‘That man…he's a dumbass.’
That was the conclusion that Waver reached over his Rider. What the hell did he want to do inside such a place at that time of the night? It was not like he could take any books from there, right? He entered the place in his spirit form, sure, but he couldn't interact with any physical objects while in that state.
Waver felt a shiver in his spine. He wouldn't be so dumb to punch his way through the door, would he? He could do that, sure, but he wouldn't.
Right?
‘Do not fret, mister Velvet,’ said Caster of Hogwarts in his mind. ‘I will guarantee that nothing happens to this place.’
Well, his Caster seemed tactful, his weird attempt at ‘breaking the ice’ aside. Though Waver wondered how would he do that-
“Hm? Did it just get dark?”
The Master looked at the closest lamp, which was alight a moment ago. Then, another shut. And another. So on and so forth, until the entrance to the library was covered in darkness.
‘What is this?’
"A simple trick of mine,’ said Caster of Hogwarts. ‘To shut down any unwanted witnesses. Now, allow me a bit of subtlety. Oh, good thing this door has a lock.’
Waver looked at the locked door…
Only for his two Servants to open and close it behind them. Rider carried two books in his hands.
“Ohoho!” said Iskandar. “You have interesting tricks up your sleeve, Albus Dumbledore!”
The older man smiled.
“These are but simple tricks from where I came from,” said the headmaster of Hogwarts. “Alohomora is a very handy spell, as you can see. No wonder it's called the Thief's Friend.”
“Very appropriate for this situation,” grumbled Waver, pointing at the books that Rider carried. “What are you doing, huh? Why are you stealing these?!”
Iskandar seemed very offended by that.
“Boy! A conqueror does not slinker away at night like a rat! He carries with himself its loot with the joy of another successful battle sweetening its meaning! Keep the difference in mind!”
‘Is he even hearing himself?!’ thought the Master. ‘Ugh! Why did I get this wacko as my Servant?! Is this retribution for having stolen the catalyst?’
“I am afraid this is no place for cheap talk,” said Dumbledore. “We can talk in a quieter place.”
Waver nodded. Even if Iskandar didn't burst through the door, there was still the chance of the library having other alarms.
WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-!
Like that one.
“I task you with carrying the loot, boy!” said Rider, throwing the books to Waver before bursting into golden dust.
“Wha-?!” he turned to Dumbledore, who merely smiled and turned into silver. Weirdly enough, before that, balls of light escaped from his being, illuminating the plaza yet again.
‘Pace yourself, Master!’ said Rider. ‘You do not want our first adventure to be the last one!’
Waver gritted his teeth before starting to run.
“Why did I have to get a hooligan like you?!” he screamed at the top of his lungs as he left behind the library.
It could only be karma, he was sure. Why would he summon a rowdy hero like Alexander the Great and an eccentric Caster better than him in every aspect?
‘Who is even that guy?’ thought Waver. ‘I heard of many famous mages, but nothing about Dumbledore in any book!’
Who was supposed to be that guy? And what was Hogwarts? A place?
“You can already stop, mister Velvet,” said Dumbledore, returning to a physical form. “The police won't be able to track us.”
The boy nearly tripped from the surprise of seeing his Servant appear, only not falling on the ground because he…floated?
“I would move,” said Dumbledore. “This type of spell does not last for too long.”
Waver managed to put himself back at his feet right at the moment that gravity remembered him.
“Yet again, you show interesting tricks, Man of Hogwarts,” said Rider, returning to his physical form.
“I assure you,” replied the Servant of Magic. “This is but a drop in my repertoire.”
“Ahaha! Now you only made me more excited!”
Waver didn't say anything, but he was also fascinated with the old man. Just who was that man?
‘Probably one of those types with lots of talent that never revealed himself to the world,’ he thought, bitterly. ‘Just the type of magus I needed to see.’
“Hey, kid,” said Rider. “Can you pass the books?”
The Master looked angrily at their “loot,” wondering how far he could throw them into the river -huh, he had run pretty far, good thing he didn't skip leg day. Ultimately, Waver decided it wasn't worth it, and passed the two books to him, but not before looking at what they picked.
“An atlas and a Homer Anthology?”
“What did you expect, Master?” asked the Servant of Riding, opening the book. “No good conquest can start without knowledge of the terrain and some inspiration -although I'm biased for Homer, considering how my teacher taught me much about the world from the works of the Odyssey and many others.”
“Wait, I thought you were joking about the whole conquest thing!”
Rider, however, was focused on the map, admiring the Earth.
“Fantastic. Pythagoras theorized about our world being round rather than flat, and Aristotle passed this knowledge to me, but there was never concrete evidence of that. To think that not only he was correct, but that there were also lands beyond…”
He let out a thunderous laugh.
“What is the reason for this laugh, King of Conquerors?” asked Dumbledore.
“Ah, just a silly thing. I promised to my armies that we would reach the end of the world with our conquests, but is there an end for a planet that is a sphere?”
“Big deal,” grumbled Waver. “And you should know that from the knowledge you got from the summoning.”
“Yeah, I did know that…” admitted Iskandar. “But a perspective in the matter always helps. Now, answer me: where are Macedonia and Persia on this map?”
“I can help with this,” said Dumbledore, flicking his wand. Two glowing circles appeared on the map, indicating what remained from the two grand empires.
‘It's sad,’ thought Waver. He remembered something about Rider's empire shattering in his death, and that a Persian was one of his greatest foes. To see two great lands falling like this was nothing short of sad.
So it was surprising when Rider laughed heartily.
“And I thought of myself as a great conqueror! Look at all this unexplored land! Oooh, my heart goes into throttle seeing how many new things there are to do! Now, where are we on the map?”
Another circle appeared over Japan. Iskandar put a hand on his chin.
“Well at the East, huh,” said Rider, chuckling a bit. “Hm…can't say that navigation is my strong suit, but a man of my standing can't be a beggar. Well then, first we pick a ship going west, taking every country until we reach Macedonia. How does that sound?”
“Aaaaaahhh?!” protested Waver. “Hold your damn horses, meathead!”
Rider turned to his Master.
“Hm? Do you think we should continue going east? I do say, though, that conquering this United States place has its charm…”
“I fear you miss the issue, Iskandar,” said Dumbledore. “Remember the reason we were called.”
‘Yes! Thank you!’ thought Waver. ‘At least one of them has the brain in the right place!’
The Master looked at the sorcerer, before noticing something weird.
“Hey, Caster?”
“Hm?” asked Caster of Hogwarts, who had in his hands a bag of sweets named anpan.
“Where did you get that?” asked the Master, pointing at the sweets bag.
“Oh, this little thing?” said Dumbledore. “I took a small detour to get this from a sweet shop close to here. Do not worry: I took some of the money from your wallet to pay that and the tax for borrowing the books of Rider.”
“Wha-?!” said Waver, picking up his wallet, and noticing that a few yen were missing. “How did you even bring that? You were in your spiritual form, for god's sake!”
The magician gave a mischievous blink.
“A man like me has to have some tricks up the sleeve, you see.”
Iskandar gave a smirk.
“And yet again you don't fail to amuse me! Magnificent!”
Waver, meanwhile, groaned in exasperation.
“Goddammit, what did I do to get two wackos as my Servants?”
“If it makes you feel better, mister Velvet,” said Dumbledore. “I understood in life that you learn more with those with mentalities out of the box than with those that conform to their current mindsets. Think of this as a school trip.”
“No, thank you,” grumbled Waver. “My last experience with a school ended in a sour tone.”
“All learning experiences have these, young Velvet,” said Dumbledore. “You must know the bitter to enjoy the sweet, as the good son once said. Like with these delicious intricacies,” he pointed at the anpan, happily munching at the breadlike sweet. Much to Waver's exasperation, Rider also picked the bread. Throwing (figuratively) his hands into the air, he picked the sweet as well. All that running around made him hungry.
It was alright. That's it.
“Aaaah…” said Iskandar. “Good adventure, some moments to know more about each other, and good food. Give me some fine wine, and this would be a perfect moment.”
“Hmmm…” said Dumbledore, scratching his silvery beard. “I suppose this can be provided.”
With a swing of the wand, a bottle of vinegar appeared in mid-air, together with three cups.
“Uh, I think you misheard Rider,” said Waver.
“I am old, not deaf, mister Velvet,” said Caster of Hogwarts. “Observe.”
With a sleight of hand, the liquid in the bottle turned into ice.
“Hm, I suppose this is one spell I didn't need to use in a long time,” grumbled Dumbledore. “Excuse me.”
Swiping his hand, the liquid returned to normal, and, with another, the semi-transparent liquid took a crimson tonality.
“Oh, my!” said Rider, picking the first cup, then chugging the liquid down the throat. He snapped his lips in satisfaction. “And it's not half-bad either!”
The Macedonian conqueror was in his third cup when Waver and Dumbledore finished their cups.
“Alright, I suppose it's time for a very serious talk,” said Rider. “What are your wishes? I would hate to have to oppose either of you in my conquests.”
Waver scoffed.
“I'm not a savage like you,” said the Master. “All I want is what I deserve: acknowledgement! Acknowledgment from those that made a mockery out of me, the recognition that I-!”
SLAP!
Waver almost kissed the ground when Rider slapped his back.
“Ohohoho! Small! How small is your wish! For my Master, your ambitions are really small! Ask to grow a bit taller or something like that! That way you get some respect while looking better for the ladies!”
‘Small?!’ thought Waver, wrathful. ‘If so, your wish is stupid!
He took a side glance at his hand. The place where the three -six, he corrected himself - Command Seals were. He didn't think he would need to do anything against the Caster of Hogwarts, but using one of them would shut that buffoon up.
‘By the power of these Command Seals, I order this loudmouth of a Servant to-!’
Waver didn't finish his order, as he felt something crawling on his back. He moved his hand to touch it but found nothing. Then, he noticed where it came from.
While Iskandar kept laughing, Dumbledore kept the eye on his Master, watching what would be his next move. There was no approval or condemnation: only an evaluative glance, as if the next action that Waver took would shape his view of him.
The staredown only lasted a few seconds, but for Waver, it felt like an eternity. Ultimately he opted to lower his arm and not waste the Seal. He had three of them for each Servant -not only it would strain his relation with Rider, but he also needed to use those with wisdom.
Dumbledore turned his head from Waver, only furthering the doubts that the young magus had.
“I won't judge you for your wishes, mister Velvet,” said Dumbledore. “However, if I'm allowed to opine, that will do no good for you. You are young and talented: respect takes time to build. When you find your way, I'm sure great things will come your way.”
Waver blinked twice. That was the nicest thing a magus had said to him since his entrance exam in Clock Tower (though he wouldn't say that 'you are passable' really counted as a compliment.)
“Caster is right, Master,” said Rider. That was the first time he called him by the title with the proper respect. He pointed at himself. “Even I had to conquer my way to the top before becoming the leader of an army. If you are my Master, then I'm sure your fate will be nothing but exceptional.”
The praise rang hollow when Waver considered that he was not the planned master for the King of the Conquerors, but the young magus would take that.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
“Why do you say that?” asked Iskandar. “I only say what I believe. Simple as that.”
He drank the remaining vinegar-turned-wine.
“Anyway, what is your wish, great archmage?” he asked, pointing at Dumbledore. “Do you wish for conquest?”
The mage faked being lost in thoughts.
“Hm, if I had to conquer something…it would be a pair of nice socks.”
Waver blinked.
“That's it? You are in a fight until death for a stinky pair of socks?!”
“Not a stinky pair of socks, mind you,” explained the headmaster of Hogwarts. “A pair of white, thick, woolen socks, that will keep my feet hot without being too bothersome,” he chuckled. “People always thought that I wished for more books, magazines, or documents about experiments, but sometimes it's the simpler things that fill the spirit.”
…
A barbarian and a mad wizard. It was just Waver's luck.
“I could make the finest socks for you if you joined my army, Albus Dumbledore,” said Iskandar. “My legions would find good use in your expertise.”
“Hm…” said Dumbledore, considering the offer for a few seconds before shaking his head. “It's better not. I am a man that finds happiness in simple things rather than in great schemes.”
However, it was possible to detect a little trembling in the voice. Iskandar raised an eyebrow. ‘Interesting.’
“Well, the offer is always available,” said the conqueror. “The same is true for you, boy.”
‘The nerve of the guy!’ thought Waver. He couldn't think of himself joining the army with that man. “Let's just go to my place. I'm tired, and it's not like we can do much now.”
He started walking but then remembered that they got pretty far away. Not only that, but they moved into the woods to reach the library. Could he find his way back?
Rider seemed to have noticed his distress, as he said:
“Do not waste your sole, boy. There is one last thing I would like to know from you before, Caster of Hogwarts: what kind of Noble Phantasms do you possess?”
“Two of them, I possess,” said the Caster. “One of them I cannot show right now. But my weapon is one of them.”
He showed his wand to the other two. Looking closely, Waver could feel that it was a powerful artifact.
“From where I come from, it's said that a wand chooses its user. But this is a special one: it only obeys might. The materials used in its confection are exquisite: elder wood, powerful yet with a propensity to bring misfortune, and thestral hair as its magic core, capable of remarkable feats for those willing to face death: this is what forms the Deathly Hallow of Might, the Elder Wand. “
The last words generated a wind gust -or was Waver's mind playing tricks? Either way, he felt now as if the Elder Wand was less a magical stick and more like a rocket launcher. That was the weight that came with being a Noble Phantasm. They were not mere weapons: they were the summation of a whole journey, a trump card that deserved all the gravitas it could get.
“Most remarkable, for such a tiny thing to do such interesting things!” said Iskandar.
“Oh no,” said Dumbledore. “That is all on me. Watch.”
He passed the wand to his Master, who wielded it with the most care he could, as Dumbledore pointed his finger to the sky.
BOOM! BOOM!
Colorful fireworks that formed into the heads of lions, snakes, birds, and badgers popped into the sky.
“Wands are useful ways to channel our magic,” said Dumbledore, retrieving the Elder Wand from Waver. “Most wizards use them because controlling magic without something to help direct it is a hard task that only could be reached with considerable effort.”
‘...what the hell was that?!’
It would be one thing if Dumbledore could only do magic with his Noble Phantasm: Waver could understand that. Many magus relied on Mystic Codes to perform their magecraft.
But this?
He did not utter a single word. He only pointed at the sky and the fires went up. No enchantment, no activation of circuits, nothing. And the system that he described was nothing as he had ever seen.
Just how the Clock Tower missed someone like Albus Dumbledore? He's the kind of a man they would slap a Sealing Designation on and call it a day!
“Ohoho!” said Rider. “Well, I suppose it's only fair that I reveal my tricks for you too, Caster of Hogwarts! I also possess two Noble Phantasms, but one of them I would rather not use now, as it is too eye-catching.”
“Now you are worried about not calling attention!” grumbled Waver, in a loud voice, still freaking out from Dumbledore's feats.
SNAP!
“Ouch! Why did you do that?!” complained the younger man, putting his hand on the red mark left on his face by Rider's slap.
“You seemed like you needed it,” stated the Conqueror. “Besides, this is a war, correct? I take any conflict of this nature with the uttermost seriousness, boy. And if I learned something, it is that there's time to be loud and time to be silent. Now, I stay still, for when the war begins, I make myself the loudest,” he drew his sword from the sheath, lifting it to the skies. “Now, for my ride! As Iskandar, King of Conquerors, I claim supremacy with this single strike!”
As he swung the blade down, lightning followed suit, striking the space ahead of the trio.
BOOM!
Waver stood stunned by the sudden light and noise for a few seconds, but soon he took notice of the ride ahead of them. He gulped.
“Incredible…”
If the aura that the Elder Wand emitted was that of a rocket launcher, the ride of Iskandar had the energy of a bomber. It wasn't just the lightning that emitted from it: the war chariot, carved in fine wood and bronze, the bulls that stomped with anxiety to run, emitting a divine aura, the sickles sharp enough to slash through stone with ease.
Everything on it breathed a divine aura.
“Behold! The treasure that I conquered from King Gordias! Two bulls whose fate was to be a sacrifice for Zeus, but that became mine once I cut the Gordian Knot! This anecdote is what turns them into this: The Wheel of Heaven's Authority, Gordius Wheel!”
BOOM!
It was almost appropriate for thunder to strike down at that moment. Waver had to resist the urge of stepping back. He already made enough of a fool of himself on that day.
“Impressive…” admitted Dumbledore, analyzing one of the bulls. “One of my former employees…he would be positively vibrating if he could breed one of these for himself.”
“Unfortunately, they are one of a kind,” said Iskandar. “A shame, but what can one do? Not all bulls can be blessed by Zeus himself. Otherwise, my cavalry would have been unbeatable!” He jumped in the carriage. “Now, climb, Waver Velvet! You shall lead us to our base!”
“Alright, alright…” grumbled the Master. “Just don't make much noise on arrival. I am living with other people and they are old, so, respect their hospitality, would you?”
Waver felt a bit proud of remembering that tidbit about Greece: in the past, they took hospitality very seriously.
“I would never!” said Iskandar. “Alright then, I shall keep silent for now,” he glanced at Dumbledore. “And you, sorcerer? Won't you ride with us?”
The old man shook his head.
“Unfortunately, it feels too cramped for me. However, do not worry. I have my ways of moving fast,” he summoned a clock in the air. “I should reach earlier than you two.”
Iskandar raised his eyebrow.
“Is that a bet I hear?”
“Rider…” complained Waver.
“Come on, boy. It's harmless. All I want, if I win, is more of that wine. And you? What do you claim if you do as you say?”
The old man scratched his beard, then said:
“A strand of your hair.”
The man raised his eyebrows, then chuckled.
“I feel that is a bit cheap, but well then. You have my word that a strand of my hair is yours…if you reach first. Ride forward, boys!”
He snapped the reins of the carriage, to which the bulls advanced. Rather than drowning in the waters of the river, however, they took the skies and marched toward the stars.
“Hahaha! Careful, world! Your conqueror is here!”
“What did I say about being loud?!”
Dumbledore shook his head, amused, at the antics of the duo. He could say they would become the best of friends by the end of this, whether they be winners or losers. And he was pretty sure he could include himself in that group.
“Well, I'm giving one minute of advantage to him,” he decided. The chariot was pretty fast, after all. Even then, he knew that he would win. “It's not fair. I should have told him about Apparition. Guess I will make wine anyway to compensate.”
It's only fair, after all.
Teleportation was nothing short of a winner in any race.
Matou Household
Kariya couldn't be more confused about why he was not dead.
In pain, sure. But not dead. He didn't know what bothered him the most.
“Watch it, Master,” said Archer of Musutafu, grabbing his arm when he was about to fall. “You will hurt yourself with that rhythm.” The Servant lifted his Master, whose legs were trembling. “I could carry you up these stairs.”
Kariya stared at the eyes of Enji Todoroki - no, he asked to be referred to as Endeavor.
“No,” he said. “This-this is something that would satisfy that worm.”
He didn't know where Zouken was, as he had run away to his workshop after remembering Kariya the conditions of their deals -as if he needed to do that. What a joke.
However, the rebel son also knew that Zouken liked to spread his familiars to never miss anything happening in the house. Thus, he wouldn't demonstrate weakness in the face of that thing.
Even if he felt the urge to vomit growing by the minute.
“There is a fine line between guts and recklessness, Master,” said Endeavor, following Kariya's footsteps as he slowly climbed the ladder to the second floor. “Our fates and that of Berserker are connected. If you fall, so do I. And not even all the Independent Action in the world will change that.”
Independent Action. The class skill of the Archer class, allows a Servant to keep existing even when not receiving energy from a Master. A blessing for someone like Kariya. He could sense the man that accompanied him refusing his energy.
He had no such luck with Berserker, however, and that was the reason for most of his pains. ‘At least he's not taking physical form currently. Ugh.’ He could imagine the dark knight breathing in his neck, mumbling constantly about Arthur…’I didn't even see which of them I summoned.’ He would do that later, but he at least had the certainty he hadn't summoned the Knight of Treachery: it would be the straw that broke the camel's back for him.
They finally reached the top of the ladder. It only took three minutes, but Kariya felt like thirty.
“What are we doing here?” asked Endeavor. “Looking at how your father treats you, I would think of leaving as soon as possible.”
“He's not my father,” grumbled Kariya. “And by god, I would like to never have been born in the same family as him.”
Kariya didn't have many memories of his parents. Like many in the past, like his brother Byakuya and his nephew Shinji, they had been discarded because of how weak their Magic Circuits were, in the slow decay of their bloodline's magical potential. It was to say something when, even before his training, he, someone who actively refused to receive magical training, was still superior to the younger brother.
Not that he cared. Byakuya was a trash human being, blaming him for “throwing” the pressures of being the clan head on him, and actively choosing to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Kariya felt pity for him, but that's it. He was more worried about the future of Shinji, who was undeserving of any of that family drama. At least he was overseas, but still…
‘But Zouken won't have any need for him either once I bring the Grail for him, right?’ he thought. ‘Yes, don't worry. A drunkard father is easier to deal with than a worm vampire.’
Not a big consolation, but what could he do, Kariya only had time to be the hero of one person.
And speaking of which…
“We arrived.”
They stopped in front of the room. Kariya didn't want to be here at first, but he knew that this was needed. He needed one last reminder of why he was fighting before leaving that horrendous place.
So, the amateur magus knocked at the door.
KNOCK, KNOCK!
Slowly, the door opened. A purple-haired girl put her head through the opening.
“Uncle Kariya…” said Sakura Matou, formerly Tohsaka.
He tried to smile through the pain.
“Hello Sakura,” said the man. “I came to see you.”
“...”
The girl didn't say anything, expressing no emotion. He sighed: it was to be expected. He couldn't remember one moment where the girl laughed, cried, or openly expressed emotion.
She was thoroughly broken. A husk of a once joyful little girl, that he remembered as if it was yesterday playing with her older sister, Rin.
His hands turned into fists, pressing into the palm of his hands.
This is why he couldn't forgive Tokiomi. He broke a happy family due to his magus duties, and threw his daughter to the wolves -or the worms, better saying. Even if it meant saddening Aoi, he would defeat that man.
“Uncle, you are bleeding.”
He blinked, looking at the hands. Only the right one was bleeding: the left side was too weak to even wound itself.
And now he realized he was still, staring at the girl without saying anything. He had focused so much on seeing her that Kariya hadn't thought about what he would say.
“Sakura…” he started. “I will free you of this fate. I promise that you will return to your family soon.”
‘Hopefully without that deadbeat of a father.’ The dying Matou didn't dare to utter this in a loud voice, but he hoped someone would kill him in the fight. Preferably him, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
“I dream with them,” said the girl, emotionless as ever. “The park, those shining days…then the worms appear, dragging me to train more and more. I hear their screams…There is no hope of escaping, Uncle.”
Kariya wanted to argue, but he couldn't. The man knew how hard it was to escape from the grasp of Zouken Matou - he only managed to do so because the monster never expected one of his own to defy his commands. And Zouken Matou was many things, but he was never someone that committed a mistake twice.
“So we will create one.”
Kariya turned to the Archer of Musutafu, so silent until then that it was almost as if he wasn't present.
The Master instinctively gave some steps to the side, letting Endeavor stand in front of the child, kneeling to be on the same eye level, followed by dismissing his mask of flames. Kariya's eyes widened at the large scar that covered most of the left side of his face, hidden until now.
“Do you know what I am, child?” asked Enji Todoroki.
With some hesitance, the girl shook her head.
“I am a hero,” explained the Servant of the Bow. “And I don't mean as in a Heroic Spirit. In life, I was someone that saved other people, no matter how bad the odds were.”
He kindly held her hand.
“Even if you weren't dear to my Master, I would still save you from that monster, because that's my duty. When this war is over, I swear, as the Flame Hero Endeavor, that the monster won't bother you ever again.”
The girl stared blankly at the Archer -but, was it Kariya's imagination, or were her eyes shining a bit? Or was it the fire from Endeavor reflecting in them? He couldn't say.
“Bold words. But don't forget who is the master of this house.”
The three turned to see Zouken standing at the door to the room.
“I'm afraid your time is up, Kariya,” said the head of the house. “Now, leave, please. It would be bad if someone like the Magus Killer targeted this place for one of his attacks.”
Kariya glared at the man but decided that this was a fight he wasn't ready to fight.
Not yet.
“Come on. I have an apartment somewhere around the city. I only hope that I have enough money to pay the bills…”
The man advanced back to the stairs, while Endeavor lagged to also glare at Zouken.
“You should hear what I said there,” said the Archer. “When I promise something, it's not a mere wish,” he reformed his mask of flames, while the remainder of his body dissipated in blazes. “It's a spoiler.”
Zouken stared down impassively at the point where Endeavor disappeared, before turning to Sakura.
“You. To the pit. Five minutes.”
The girl didn't react, only closing her eyes and accepting her fate.
On that night, she imagined a world where Zouken was dead.
It was nice. It helped her ignore the worms for many hours.
Einzbern Castle, Germany
“Alright! Not losing today!” said Illya, stuffed chest.
Kiritsugu couldn't help but smile.
“Well, I have been on a hot streak recently,” said the man. “Today is not the day that will go cold.”
Father and daughter stared at each other, then started their walk.
“Aha! I found one!” she pointed at the walnut sprouting from the top. “First point goes to me!”
“Not so fast,” said the man. “Look. Another one at the top.”
Illya groaned with a bit of frustration but soon was back to the game. Kiritsugu chuckled. It was always like that in this little game of theirs: a back-and-forth between who could find the most of the walnut sprouts that came in winter.
“I found another one!” she said, pointing at a tree.
“What a coincidence,” said Kiritsugu. “I also found another one!”
He pointed at it: so far, he hadn't needed to count wingnuts, a trick he'd been applying since last time. He wondered how long it would take for Illya to discover the trick.
As the two walked, Kiritsugu inevitably thought of the events of recent days. Mainly, about the War. His memories drifted towards the hushed reunion he and Irisviel had with Jubstacheit after the summoning.
“So everyone got an additional Servant?”
Jubstacheit turned to Irisviel. The three, plus Saber and Lancer of the ARK, were sitting around a table, as the head of the Einzbern explained the current alterations in the war.
“I fear this is the case,” confirmed the homunculus. “As I said before, the source of the overflow is currently unknown: it could be a result of having never been used in previous wars or something entirely different. As I said before, however, the energy is potent enough to allow for two wishes during this iteration of the war: thus, two Servants manifested.”
The King of the Knights and the hedgehog stared silently at each other, unsure.
“And there's something else I deducted,” said Jubstacheit. “These additional Servants…they are not connected to this world.”
“!”
This raised many eyebrows.
“Elaborate,” said Kiritsugu.
“Well, I suppose more of a conclusion I reached than a fact,” said the head of the Einzbern. “I know that you are not interested in the more technical details of the ritual, so I shall keep it simple. As you know, the Heroic Spirits are not physical persons, but rather…let's say they are archetypes. Not physical figures but representations of who they were in life, supported by the people's belief in their legends. However, we can't summon their beings in entirety, the full Heroic Spirit: thus, the class system."
He pointed at Artoria.
“Say, our lady king,” she raised an eyebrow but didn't reply. “As a Saber, she wields the strongest amongst sacred swords, Excalibur. However she also once wielded a famed spear named Rhongomyniad, which she used to strike down his…her treacherous son. So she's qualified to be put in a Lancer container -albeit I feel that it would be a huge downgrade from using Excalibur, as Rhongomyniad is said to have no magical powers.”
The king seemed amused for some reason. Kiritsugu decided it wasn't relevant.
“I know that Jubstacheit,” said the man. “I did my homework. Now, what does this pertain to him?” He pointed at the hedgehog.
“Kiritsugu…” hissed Irisviel. She always took her husband's side, but Kiritsugu needed to be careful not to anger Jubstacheit.
“I was getting to that,” answered the homunculus, not losing a beat. “We also need to consider that the Throne of Heroes is a place outside of the axis of space and time. Thus it stands to reason that it can register any number of heroes in the multiverse.”
Jubstacheit made a pause, letting the team process that tidbit of information.
“As humanity is unaware of these beings, there's no foundation for them to manifest in our world,” continued Jubstacheit. “A similar reason for why it's effectively impossible to summon heroes from the future, as they have yet to establish a space in people's minds and we can't obtain catalysts because they have yet to leave trails of their journeys. A similar case happens to these heroes. But the overflow changed that: it's bypassing the natural restrictions of this world and calling beings from beyond.”
“Lord Jubstacheit,” asked Irisviel. “What do you want to say?”
He closed his eyes.
“All I say is expect the unexpected.”
‘Words that define my work.’
“Papa!” said Illyasviell. “Are you paying attention to the game? I got two more over you!”
He smirked.
“Don't worry,” he said. “See? I'm catching two new buds right there.”
“Wha-?!” said the girl, looking at them. “How did you find them?!” her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute…”
The two approached the sprouts. One of them was a walnut, alright, but the other…
“It's different,” said Illya. “It does not count.”
“Nuhuh,” said Kiritsugu. “This is a variety of walnut, a wingnut, so this bud counts.”
The girl stared, shocked, at her father.
“Daddy is cheating! Unfair!”
“I have to!” he exclaimed, faking shock. “Miss Illya is an expert in finding walnuts! Otherwise, you would sweep me out of the ground!”
The little girl wouldn't have any of that and stomped at the ground in a manner so adorable that Kiritsugu had to resist the urge to hug her.
“Cheater, cheater, cheater! He calls for walnuts that I do not know!”
“Hey, they are walnuts!” said Kiritsugu. “Only not edible. See? You learned something new.”
The homunculus pouted.
“But it's not fair! It's only a walnut for you. If you keep cheating like that, then I will not play with you anymore!”
He shook his arms, faking panic.
“Alright, alright! I promise I will not count wingnuts anymore. Word of daddy.”
‘Field nuts are fair game, though,’ he thought slyly.
Unaware of the trickery of her father, Illya nodded.
“Alright! Now, we start back from the beginning! The champion will accept any challenge with grace!”
“Well said, little princess!” he said, before lifting the little girl with ease. She screamed with joy as she was put in a piggyback position, staring at the woods from a privileged position. The two wandered joyfully through the woods, Kiritsugu walking as if she weighed nothing.
‘She could pretty well be like that,’ he thought sadly.
Eight years. Fifteen kilos. There was no need for a doctor to realize the absurdity of that proposition. But that was the situation of Illya. The modifications she received since birth, to be a perfect receptacle for the Grail if they failed, guaranteed that she would have stunted growth. The odds of her even manifesting secondary sexual characteristics were extremely low.
He closed his eyes. One of many sacrifices he had to perform to fulfill his wish to save the world.
He wondered if Illya would hate him. When he returned home, victorious of the war, but without her mother close to him. Would she hate that he needed to sacrifice Irisviel for the good of the world -for her good? Could he, a man who for most of his life, knew nothing but death, take care of the life of his daughter on his own?
Those answers only time would tell.
“Daddy, I saw something weird.”
He tensed up a bit. Could it be a wolf? The mountains were full of them.
“How did it look?”
“It was black and red,” she said. “I don't know what it was, but it was fast.”
“Red, black, and fast, huh?”
His shoulders relaxed.
“Do not worry, sweetie. That's just our guest.”
‘So this is snow, huh?’
Shadow couldn't remember if he ever had seen snow before. Probably not. ARK didn't need to simulate that environment and he certainly didn't remember seeing it during his short time on Earth. He wondered what Maria would have thought of that.
‘She probably would love this,’ brooded the Ultimate Lifeform. ‘And probably everything else on the planet.’
A place like the mountains where the Einzbern lived would be one big playground for his friend. For him, however, it was the perfect place to meditate on his current situation.
This war…
“Hmph. It seems I went out of war only to get into another one,” he said to himself.
Not that his duel with the team of that faker could be called a war, but that's how it felt personally for him -especially when dueling with Sonic, the only one close that he would even think calling his match,
Not that he would say that out loud.
The ego of the faker didn't need to be further increased.
Either way, Shadow wasn't upset about those ordeals. Not when the reward was so attractive.
“Maria…”
The opportunity to correct one of the greatest wrongs in the story of his world. If Maria Robotnik never died, then Gerald Robotnik wouldn't go mad with grief and wouldn't think of creating that mad plan to avenge her nephew -without ever thinking that it would be the last thing she would wish for.
And, most importantly…
He would have his friend back.
And he would do anything for that to happen.
He felt her before seeing it. The woman hadn't bothered to hide her presence, as there was no need for that in this land.
“Hello, Artoria Pendragon,” he said neutrally.
The blonde knight bowed slightly.
“Hello, Shadow,” she said, also in the blankest voice.
The two stared at each other uncomfortably.
The Lancer of the ARK was ashamed of admitting it, but he still hasn't gotten over the 'monster' offense. He had almost no social skills, but even he recognized that it was a serious offense.
The knight seemed to recognize this, as she started with:
“Once again, I deeply apologize for my actions yesterday. I could say many things about the fact that we didn't know the other was an ally, but I fear I would have done the same even with that knowledge. So, all I can do is apologize to you.”
He stared at her, waiting to see any sign of deceit. There was nothing. He shrugged.
“I've been called worse,” said the Ultimate Lifeform. “At least you are honest.”
Again, Shadow wasn't good with people like the damn faker, but he could tell if someone lied. And Artoria Pendragon seemed apologetic.
“Whether we like it or not, we are partners in this battle,” she said. “Thus, it's best to iron any issues before advancing into the war.”
Shadow nodded.
“It's practical, indeed. So, why don't you do that with our Master?”
Saber froze. Then, she sighed.
“Were my intentions so obvious?”
“As obvious as how he treats you,” declared the hedgehog.
Shadow wouldn't say the way that Kiritsugu treated her -or him, for that matter -was inherently awful. Only cold, albeit for different reasons: Saber because their styles were incompatible, and Shadow because he was an unknown and still was making up his mind about him.
“What are your thoughts on him?” asked Artoria. “He seems so…two-faced. I saw him playing with his child in the woods, and he seemed warm: but once he returned to the castle, the man regarded me with respect, but he put on that mask again. Does he hate us, Ultimate Lifeform?”
Shadow had to stop to think about that.
“I am unsure of that,” he said. “But does it matter? As comrades in battle, we do not need to like the man, only to follow him until the last two Servants standing are us.”
“What if it gets in the way, however?” she insisted. “A bond between a Master and a Servant in this war is as important as that of a knight to his liege. With this attitude, he could put that in jeopardy. How can I trust him when he does not do the same?”
“Do you trust him to guide you in battle?”
Saber closed her eyes.
“I trust him to do that, yes, as he possesses all the air of a warrior. What I do not trust is him fighting honorably.”
“Honor…” mumbled Shadow. “What good is honor on a battlefield?”
She stared at the hedgehog.
“I will be clean with you, Saber,” said the Lancer of the ARK. “I am not the most moral being in the world. I feel our Master, and I share this trait: we focus more on reaching an end than on the means used to do so. Things like honor become secondary. Besides, do you expect other people to fight honorably? There will always be one that is uncaring for such things and will actively try to use it against you.”
“This is a pessimistic outlook,” said Artoria, but then she sighed. “But not unrealistic.”
She remembered the great wars that ravaged her kingdom for much time. Those were times when it was either to fight or to die.
“But the ones summoned here,” said the King of Knights. “They are the finest heroes that humanity -or whatever you call your kind,” she added quickly, “produced. Figures that represent the ideals of their times.”
“Sometimes, it may be better for those ideals to fall into forgetfulness,” said Shadow.
Silence. The two stared at each other momentarily then the Lancer turned his back.
“If you still want my opinion,” he said. “Then I can say that Kiritsugu Emiya has better intentions than the last man I worked for,” he gave a dark chuckle. “Not that it helps much: his wish was to rule the world, using a planet destroyer as the means to enforce his will.”
With that, he disappeared, leaving Saber to her thoughts.