burizulu

The Bleeding Lance- Chapter 3

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 03:25:44 GMT

Chapter 3- Awakening

Trace on, Copy-paste.

Rating- We'll say PG-13 to be safe.

Summary- Five years after the end of the Heaven's Feel, a dream leads Rin into the middle of an otherworldly plot. She and her companions struggle to save humanity and themselves.

Spoilers- Spoilers for all three routes and probably F/Z here. And miscellaneous Nasuverse cosmology.

Forward- I apologize for this crappy chapter. I promise it will get better next time. This chapter went a little long, so I decided to split it up, so you are in for more boring exposition. As alway, please gift me with your comments, compliments and/or scorn.

Also as always, I do not own F/SN or anything else I am utterly obsessed over.

The Bleeding Lance

Chapter 3:

Awakening

“One of the first times he accompanied me in battle was against a tribe of Saxons who had been raiding villages on the southern coast. We had anticipated a small raiding force and so, I only brought seven knights and a hundred men-at-arms. But the enemy's strength had been greatly underestimated and we had a fierce fight on our hands against a force three times our own. But my men and my knights were unflappable, and we carried the day after an hours battle.

“Afterward, I found that your father was missing. I was stunned to think that such a knight of unparalleled skills could be killed in such a skirmish and I immediately set out to find his corpse. After several minutes of searching through the piles of the dead, I saw his armor glinting in the sunlight. Rushing over, I saw he was lying amid a circle of a dozen fallen Saxons. I could hardly believe my eyes to see a knight such as him lying there defeated even faced against such odds. In truth, I had been convinced that a hundred enemies would be mere child's play to him, but there he was. I approached him, intending to close his bright eyes that lay staring at the sky, but as I drew closer, the eyes turned to me and his face curled into a smile.

“'Why hello, My King,' he greeted me cheerfully. 'I trust you are well.'

“'Lancelot,' I said to him, 'what in heaven's name are you doing?'

“'I just thought I'd see what it was like from a dead man's point of view. I have always found it to be good to view things through my enemy's eyes.'

“Needless to say, I found this quite odd. But after a moment, he began to laugh at the shear absurdity of his own words. It was then that I found myself laughing along with him.”

“Then what happened?” Lily asked with barely controlled enthusiasm.

Saber shrugged. “I helped him up and we began the long ride back to our city.”

“I like it very much.” Lily's smile lit up her youthful face. “Vivian has many books about you and Father, but none contain that story.”

“It is no surprise,” Saber said, “It really is quite a mundane story. I've already told you all the interesting ones.”

The small homonculus shook her head. “No, all of your stories are wonderful. I have so longed to talk to you. You have seen and done so many exciting things. There are so many tales about you and how great you were. But I think I like the ones like this the best. It is as if I am discovering things long lost to history.”

Saber did not know what to say. It had been two days since they had left Vivian's realm and began their journey North. Yet in that short time, she felt inexplicably close to the red-eyed girl who had turned out to be Lancelot's daughter. The girl was cheerful and had an insatiable curiosity for tales from when Saber had been king and Lancelot had ridden at her side. Truthfully, it made Saber glad to be able to recall those times.

Those times had been full of battle, of course, but also full of hope. Saber could remember herself newly crowned, Caliburn at her side as she led her knights against those who would threaten her people. The future had looked so bright. She had known the weight of her sacrifices and borne them gladly, determined to see a peaceful and happy kingdom at the end of the bloody path. By recounting those glorious and chivalric days, she had been able to forget, even for just a little while, the tragedies and failures that had followed.

The smiles that Lily wore soon found themselves upon Saber's face as well. This girl too was full of innocence and hope. She had slept for so long within the timeless Faerie realm waiting for the time when she could fulfill this quest that they had embarked upon.

“He was very old when he came to me,” Vivian had told her. “He had been living as a hermit for many years and did not have much time left. After you had died, he had spent years seeking me, desperate for a way to atone. 'Surely,' he said to me, 'there is no hope left for me. I have been tormented by guilt and I know that if there is any justice in this world, I will be born again as a mindless beast. But still I seek some way to rectify my sins. I beg of you, Lady, if there is anyway I can atone to My King, I pray that I may be granted such means.'

“I took great pity upon him then. Already I could sense that you would return to me someday. And so, I asked for his seed, and with it, I made this child. He lived just long enough to see her born. After his death, I lay her down to sleep to wait for the ages to pass. Very slowly she grew, and finally, when you were dying far to the East, I brought you to me and awoke her at last. At your side she stayed, waiting for you to heal, and at your side she read of you and dreamed of meeting you.”

Saber had not known what to say to this. Her thoughts had gone back to the knight in black, to the Berserker who had faced her in the Fourth Heaven's Feel, to the eyes that had seemed to find peace only as she ran Excalibur through his chest. She remembered her renewed vow, to rectify her failure, to find another more suited than she. And she had failed again; the Grail she had sought so desperately had been revealed to be a festering pit of evil that had consumed her.

The revelation that the sacred goal she had sought was no more than a sham had left her in despair. But as she looked at the girl sitting across from her, she felt the longed for embers of hope beginning to burn within her again. It was with renewed determination that she had embarked on this quest to save what had once been her own beloved country. She carried with her the hopes of Lancelot, the physical manifestation of the vow of the greatest knight she had ever known. She would not fail again. She would see this through to the end, and she would make everything right again.

The whistle of the arriving train brought Saber back to her senses. They were sitting at a small table under an umbrella outside the train station. Lily hurriedly gathered up the remains of the meal they had purchased from the small restaurant inside the station and tossed the litter into a nearby bin. Saber gathered up the small bag that contained the extra clothes they had bought.

They had been walking for two days to reach this station upon leaving Vivian's realm and Saber could tell that her companion had been glad for the respite. From here, the train would carry them most of the rest of the way.

The countryside passed by in a blur as Saber watched the sun sink below the horizon from their compartment. She felt Lily's weight suddenly shift upon her. She turned to her side to see the sleeping face of the homonculus lying contentedly upon her shoulder. Unsure of the proper gesture, Saber awkwardly put her arm around Lily's slim shoulders. Soundlessly, the girl nuzzled closer, making herself comfortable in her sleep. Saber couldn't help but smile. The warmth was soothing, and although she was not tired, she was quickly asleep herself.

******

With a strained moan, Rin slowly regained consciousness. The first sensation she was aware of was the ache in her head. The second was the sound of violins being played somewhere nearby. The third was that she had to pee quite badly. Her eyelids fluttering, the events of the park had begun to return to her. Realization of her situation flooded to her brain and she sat up abruptly only to immediately regret the action. The pain in her head became nearly unbearable and her vision began to swim. She felt like throwing up. Groaning, she clenched her eyes shut and pressed her hands to her face. When the nausea had passed, she dared to open her eyes again.

She was in a large bedroom, lit dimly by a dying fire within a stately fireplace and the faint lines of sunlight that crept through the cracks of the curtains draping the windows. The furnishings of the room were exquisite, the bed itself a huge four-poster draped with silk. Gorgeous paintings hung upon the walls, finest carpets decorated the floors. A single door stood in the wall opposite the bed, the sound of music penetrating the wood of the portal.

Slowly and carefully, she crept off the bed and stood. She was relieved to feel only a mild dizziness at the change in her elevation. Upon standing, she discovered her familiar clothes gone, replaced with a dress of red silk. At least her captors had dressed her in her favorite color. The carpeting was warm on her bare feet and she silently made her way to the room's single door. With difficulty, she tried to switch her circuits on. Not a pleasant experience in the best of times, in her weakened condition the nausea exploded within her gut as her body attempted to embrace the unnaturalness of its role as the circuit. She felt as if she had been struck with her own gandr. Fighting to keep her insides from rebelling, she concentrated on the crest and the engraved circuits began to glow dimly only to fade nearly instantly. It was no good. She was sure she had been drugged. Sure enough, a quick inspection of her arm revealed a tiny red puncture mark.

At least, she reasoned, her captors did not plan on killing her yet or they wouldn't have bothered with dosing her. She reasoned further that they would not expect her to attempt escape with her magecraft disabled. Certain that she had nothing to lose, she took a deep calming breath and opened the door.

She found herself in a sitting room as finely decorated as the room she had awakened in. The pleasant classical melodies she had been hearing originated from an ancient looking phonograph in a corner, not unlike the one she had left at her home in Fuyuki. Directly in front of her, in a large high backed chair next to an antique lamp sat a blond haired teenage boy clad in a white shirt and trousers.

“Ah,” the boy said pleasantly, closing the book he had been reading, “you've awakened.” He regarded her with shining blue eyes that peered at her through his spectacles.

Rin did not reply, only answering by training her finger on him, hoping to bluff that her extended index finger posed a threat.

“My word.” The boy sounded amused. His lips curled to reveal perfectly straight white teeth, his smile somehow sinister in promise. “Is this how you greet someone who has graciously allowed you to stay in his house? Besides, you are no match for me even at your best, let alone now. With the amount of drugs that have been injected into you, you are less than a nuisance.”

“Who are you?” was the only question to come to Rin's mind.

“Oh, forgive me,” he said, the twisted smile still distorting his handsome face. “I have spent so much time admiring you that I forget we have never formally met.” He stood and bowed with practiced grace. “Howell William Lancaster IV, at your service, Miss Rin Tosaka.”

Rin felt confused at first. Although no pictures of the heir to Lancaster were known, the image in her mind had been of a middle-aged man. Yet here he was, a boy younger even than herself. She could almost laugh at the folly of her assumption. She could feel the power within him, the od within him nearly surpassing her own maximum capacity. This boy, who could not be older than seventeen, was a Lord of the Association and a Rank 1 magus. She knew at once that his words were true, that she could do nothing to him right now. He could easily kill her as she was, but the fact that he hadn't meant that he did not yet plan on doing so. Focusing, she calmed her racing heart and gathered her wits about her.

She lowered her arm with resignation. “I see,” she said crossing her arms over her chest with as much confidence as she could manage. “Well, then, first of all, can you tell me where the toilet is?”

A genuinely startled look of puzzlement crossed his face. She felt a small bit of satisfaction in seeing the smile vanish from his arrogant face. In a moment, however, his grin had returned larger than before, a disturbing cackle emerging from his throat. Rin suddenly felt sick again.

An hour later she was sitting wearily before him in an opulent sitting room. Despite the comfort of her chair, she was on edge; although Lancaster did not seem intent on harming her, she was nevertheless in hostile territory. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched on the small table next to her chair where a nondescript maid had left it. She focused on appearing as at ease as possible, fending off the inexplicable dread that the young magus seemed to inspire. Her mind raced to come up with a solution to her predicament, but she could feel the enchantments laid thick upon the house, the multiple layers of kekkai that fortified its walls and windows. As weakened as she felt, she knew any heroics on her part would be moot. And there was something else she could sense, something just beyond her, something powerful and somehow terrifying.

Lancaster, by contrast, seemed perfectly cheerful. Humming pleasantly to himself, he sipped the tea with relish upon his own comfy chair not three meters away. He glanced up from his cup to regard her. “Is the tea not to your liking, my dear?”

“What do you want, Lancaster?” she asked. She was in no mood to play whatever game he seemed set upon. She glared at him, making her hostility plain.

Oddly, his face showed a look of hurt. “I just want you to be my guest tonight. I am having a small get-together this evening, and you will be joining us.” His words did not consider the possibility of contradiction.

“I see,” she replied. “Would this be similar to the little party you hosted two weeks ago? How did that turn out?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yes. That was unexpected. However tonight, I assure you, my partner has taken extra precautions to ensure that such an incident will not be repeated.”

His words held the weight of absolute confidence. Rin barely hid her astonishment at the implication of his words; whatever it was he was doing, he seemed to think it of enough importance that the Counter Force would once again take action, and that this partner of his was in possession of means to prevent its intervention. Quickly, these feelings turned to anger at the audacity and arrogance that this mere boy seemed to ooze.

“And to what,” she said in even tones, “do I owe the honor of being your guest?”

A brief laugh escaped him. “I have been watching you for quite a while now, Miss Tosaka, and I must say you have captivated me. I must say I believe I have fallen in love with you.” Not a hint of irony, sarcasm, or even embarrassment colored his words.

Rin's anger began to blaze hotter.

“You must know you have quite a reputation in the Association,” he continued on, perhaps attributing the reddening of her cheeks to a shy blush. “You are superbly skilled for one originating from a backwards island at the edge of nowhere from a family barely old enough to walk. You have invoked praise from all who you studied under, garnered acclimations from popular magi such as Lord el-Melloi and even Wizard Marshall Zeltrech himself.” He leaned forward as if to see her better. “Not to mention how simply beautiful you are.”

Rin wrestled desperately with her rising temper. His smug face, his immaculate white clothes, even his chair, were all becoming eyesores she wished would disappear. With frustration clouding her judgment, she retaliated with the only weapon currently at her disposal: harsh words. “Unfortunately, I have no interest in boys.” He raised his eyebrows at the distaste made plain in her tone. “All I see is a spoiled child who sees something he wants and has thrown a tantrum. Ask me again if and when you ever evolve into a man.” Not conscious of doing so, she found herself standing as she delivered her tirade. The look of undisguised fury that contorted Lancaster's face was satisfying.

“You stupid cow,” he hissed. “No one has ever dared to say such things to me.” His voice shook with rage.

“That seems unfortunate,” Rin replied coolly. “If someone had seen to discipline you sooner, you probably wouldn't have turned out to be such a little shit now.” A blinding beam of heat blazed past her cheek, startling her into silence. Before her, Lancaster stood breathing heavily, his left arm outstretched before him, his icy eyes shining madly. The smell of charred hair began to drift into Rin's nostrils even as the sound of the explosion behind her faded to echoes. Rin could feel the blood pounding in her still ringing ears as she endeavored to slow her own breaths.

Lancaster lowered his arm and stood erect. Removing his spectacles, he rubbed his free hand over his face. His eyes still closed, he replaced his glasses and looked again toward the Japanese magus. His countenance had returned to its previous ease, the eerie calmness making his outburst seem as if it had simply been imagined. “I killed my own father for less than that, Miss Tosaka. I insist that you do not tempt me again. The other guests will begin to arrive shortly, so I suggest you return to your room and freshen up.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the room, leaving Rin standing startled and seething.

Knowing full well that her every action was being watched by unseen eyes, she felt no other choice than to do as Lancaster had as good as commanded her. She had tempted fate enough for now and another brush with death hardly seemed appealing at the moment.

Upon entering the room she had awakened in, she found a young boy standing engrossed at the dresser. He turned to her as she entered, his smooth face giving her a twisted smile. His features were startling in how average they were. He was so decidedly normal looking that he would melt seamlessly into a crowd of three. She froze, unsure of what to make of the child, and then she saw that in his hand he was holding four familiar gems and a large crimson pendant.

“What do we have here?” she asked, “a thieving shota?” Her tone was harsh, full of all the impotent anger of her ordeal combined with the violation of this boy touching what were essentially parts of herself.

“I was just admiring your treasures,” he said. His tone was gentle, but something about him caused Rin's eyes to widen and sweat begin to form on her forehead. As soon as the boy had spoken, an unfathomable pressure had begun to oppress her. The boy seemed to exude power with the very act of breathing. “They are very pretty.” His smile widened and he placed the gems down upon the dresser. With perfect serenity, he walked past her and through the door. He paused before the portal from the sitting room to the hallway and turned back to Rin. “I think I will take them after you are dead,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Her throat suddenly dry, Rin swallowed. There was something purely horrifying about that boy. The aura of power was one she had not felt since she had faced down Sakura five years ago in the cave of the Greater Grail.

“Stupid Shiro,” she muttered to herself. How dare he go and start invading her dreams. It was his fault that she was caught up in this.

Changing into the scarlet evening gown that had been provided for her, she steeled herself. Through breathing exercises she calmed her shaken nerves. She would not submit, but she would survive. She was a Tosaka, and she was determined to come out on top. She would let Lancaster think she was cowed, that she had given up. She would bide her time, go along with whatever charade Lancaster had planned, and she would find a way out, and taking whatever opportunity presented itself to wipe the smile off of the little prick's face while she did it.

Standing before the dresser, she palmed the jewels for comfort. Lancaster must have supreme confidence in his powers over her to allow her to retain them. It would be impolite not to take advantage of his confidence. Tucking the gems within the folds of a scarf, she wrapped it around her wrist as if it were an ordinary accessory. The red pendant she wore around her neck. Although the level of prana within it was low, its familiarity gave her courage and a measure of comfort.

Already her prana levels were recovering. Any ill effects of her abduction were now forgotten, replaced with a burning drive to succeed. She would live, she would see her family again, and she would give her stupid apprentice a piece of her mind (even if it wasn't exactly his fault). Feeling once again like herself, she left the room behind to face whatever it was Lancaster had planned.

******

Lancaster descended the steps into the colossal workshop underneath the manor. His breath came in angry puffs, the barbed words of the Japanese bitch still stinging his pride. How stupid could she be? He had nearly as much offered her a seat next to him and she had spat upon his generosity.

He smiled again. Tonight she would regret her actions. She would witness the power he wielded and then she would beg to be at his side. He would allow her, of course, as his toy.

The massive subterranean cavern that served as his workshop was clean and dry. Dozens of soft lamps illuminated the vast space.

Upon a comfortable couch along one wall sat two twin girls in their early teenage years. Motionless, they stared with placid and unseeing eyes. The Mystic Eyes of the fey twins had seen to their unconditional cooperation. Lancaster paused to appraise them. They were rather pretty, their skin pale and unblemished, their hair pale and smooth. Truly, their pleasing appearance would add to the demonstration he had planned. He had always found it more satisfying to destroy that which was beautiful.

“They are quite comely,” said a soft feminine voice from behind him. “But, they are unnecessary. This whole charade is a waste. We should just do things my way.”

Lancaster turned to face the tall cloaked figure. “Your way would have us wait for a fortnight for the 'proper time,'” he said. “My plan will produce results in half that time.”

“Your method relies too heavily on human magi,” she replied icily. “They are unreliable. They are humans, like you.”

He did not rise to her baiting tone. He was used to her mockery and could bear it more readily than the scorn from that Japanese woman. “Forces are already aware of us. Time is of the utmost now. Besides, if we fail here, then we can do it your way, My Lady.” He added his own tinge of mockery at the title.

“Very well,” she replied. “Then I shall see that we are uninterrupted tonight.” She turned to stride away.

“Oh,” Lancaster called after her, “I think we should send that boy of yours away. He unsettles me.”

She looked over her shoulder to regard him, looking him in the face for the first time. Her eyes glowed with otherworldly flames, as if they were lamps. “As you wish.” There was almost a hint of amusement at his admission.

She retreated, leaving Lancaster to allow himself to breathe again. He hated looking at her. Her eyes were an inferno that promised suffering, and he was well aware that she only tolerated him due to necessity. But that would change very soon.

He stepped through the silence toward the center of the workshop where the Lance slowly revolved suspended in the air emitting a soft glow. Its crystalline structure was threaded through with what looked to be veins. Indeed, what could only be blood coursed through the interlaced channels to the pumping of an absent heart. At the tip a tiny droplet of crimson beaded. Slowly, the droplet coagulated into a rivulet that began to flow down the shaft. The blood was nearly boiling hot as if heated by pure malice. He could almost hear screams crying forth from the liquid itself. Before the blood had traveled halfway down the weapon's length, it vanished, soaking back into the Lance it had originated from.

Lancaster smiled as the stood silently watching the abominable spear. It was murder made substance. It was power. And it was his. And soon, everything else would belong to him as well. Both the fiery Tosaka and the fire-eyed witch would tremble.

After a moment, he left the Lance. His guests would be arriving soon and there was still much to do.

Unseen by anyone, the Lance continued to bleed.

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 09:53:54 GMT

Title: The Bleeding Lance

Chapter: One (in case you've seen this before, please note that this is the revised and expanded version. Pretty much all new content).

Spoilers: Mostly Heaven's Feel, but pretty much all of F/SN and a lot of the general Nasuverse concepts.

Rating: PG-13 for violence, and suggestions of sex (they'll be in there eventually, I promise. Someone's gonna get it on, really).

Summary: Five years after the end of the Heaven's Feel, a dream leads Rin into the middle of an otherworldly plot. She and her companions struggle to save humanity and themselves.

Foreword: I hope my first entry here finds me worthy of inclusion here among fellow fans. Some of you may have come across this story elsewhere, but take heart; this is a revised and rewritten version. I hope it can be seen as an improvement and will succeed in entertaining you for a bit. Special thanks must be given to yuurei_san and umbra_elf who not only have offered helpful advice, but have kept my spirits up with lively e-conversation and delicious pictures over at BL. I apologize if I have failed to recognize anyone else, so please let me know so I can mention you in the next chapter (and I swear to Buddah, Odin, Akasha and Haruhi that there will be a next chapter soon).

So, please allow me to humbly extend my gratitude for the time that may be spent reading my words. I will appreciate any comments, suggestions, and/or criticism.

Standard disclaimer: My name is not Kinoko Nasu, nor am I affiliated with Type-Moon in any way shape or form apart from sick obsession. Do not sue. All you will get is a whole bunch of figurines and a computer loaded with pictures (most of them dirty).

Fate/Stay Night: The Bleeding Lance

Chapter 1: Dreams

The air itself nearly burned with the gargantuan amount of prana being wielded. Giants of shadow loomed like mountains over a tiny figure in red. Unperturbed, the girl in scarlet raised the glimmering blade in her hand. Instantly, the blade glowed impossibly bright, as if the sun had suddenly risen here within the heart of the mountain under the temple.

Rin slashed the luminous blade and a river of prana swept forth, reducing the giants back to nothingness. The cavern shook as the blast from Rin and Zeltrech rocked the earthen walls of the chamber.

Panting, Rin watched in dismay as new enemies formed, the power of the Grail fueling the massive familiars conjured forth by her opponent, her sister. Her whole body ached and burned. The strain of holding so much prana felt as if it was consuming her, burning her magic circuits. Resolvedly, she once again cut through the realities, the jeweled blade filling her with so much prana that she couldn’t help but wonder how she didn’t die from the pain and the exquisite ecstasy.

She needed to end this; her body couldn’t take much more. She knew she would soon either die or cripple herself. She knew her opponent was her equal in potential and power, bred from the same stock with exacting care to produce a magus of remarkable quality. Rin also knew she would lose an extended battle. Only through tactics and wit would she be able to triumph.

Rin launched another attack at the colossal familiars. As the constructs were cut down, Rin saw her opening and darted toward it, the sword filling her with prana as she ran. I’m sorry, Sakura, Rin thought to herself as she prepared to use the energy that burned within her to destroy the only family that remained to her. She longed to allow the threatening tears to flow, to express the crushing grief and remorse that hurt her far worse than her aching body. In the end, this is the only way I can save you.

Sakura stood before her, the once familiar face of her sibling now contorted with an alien rage. Rin looked into the blood-colored eyes. How surprised she had been so many years ago, encountering Sakura at school, seeing how her sister had changed so much both in appearance and personality, Sakura calling her Tōsaka-sempai instead of Oné-chan. She remembered watching Sakura, hoping that her sister was happy, convincing herself that allowing the Matōs to adopt her had been the right thing to do. She remembered even further back, as far back as she could, to when they had shared the same home, shared the same family, shared the same eyes. They had shared so many smiles together. For a fleeting instant, the shadow that enveloped Sakura vanished, and Rin saw instead the small frightened girl being taken from her family, away from her. And Rin knew then that she could not do what she had come to do. Her once invincible conviction, discipline and determination had been utterly crushed by love.

The distance between the combatants closed. Rin raised the Zeltrech and poured prana into it. Like one of her normal jewels, the dagger detonated, filling the entire cavern with blinding brilliance. Being prepared for the flash, Rin was hardly affected. Sakura, however, raised her arm to shield her eyes, stunned by the sudden flare. When Rin was close, she made her move; opening her arms, she embraced her sister with all the affection she could feel, as if hoping to send her affections through her touch.

But something was not right. Rin suddenly found herself embracing only a blob of darkness; the form thought to be her sister revealed as nothing more than more shadow, a doppelganger crafted of darkness. At once, the mass entwined her limbs in freezing tendrils. Rin was bound tightly, as if trapped within ice.

"Really, Né-san,” said a bitter voice. A mass of congealed gloom rose up before her, metamorphosing into the shape of Sakura, her red eyes dancing with malicious amusement. “Did you honestly think that a simple hug from you would make me forgive you?”

Rin’s limbs were becoming numb, the cold advancing beyond the realm of pain. “S-Sakura,” she managed to say through the chattering of her teeth, “I-I…”

“What, Né-san? Are you sorry? You didn’t know? You love me?” The amused expression on Sakura’s face contorted to a look of blazing fury. “It doesn’t matter. You are beyond forgiveness, Né-san. All the agony, all the humiliation, all the loneliness; they were all you fault, all the Tōsakas’ fault! Our father is dead, so that leaves only you to answer for his sins, Né-san.” Again, Sakura’s face shifted, becoming a woeful mask of sorrow and despair. “I gave up waiting for Father to come for me very soon. Very quickly, I stopped denying that he didn’t want me, that he had traded me away like an object. And I knew Mother could do nothing. But you, Né-san…” A trickle of tears made its way down Sakura’s cheek, the salty drops falling and vanishing into the blackness that clung to her like a dress. “When Father died, I was sure that you would come for me, so sure that you would rescue me like the hero I had always seen you as. For so very long I waited,” she looked down, her eyes becoming obscured, a hand, perhaps unconsciously, rising to touch the ribbon in her hair, “but you never came. I think I began to hate you then.”

Rin fought to stay conscious. She could not feel her limbs anymore. The tears that burned her eyes were now the only warmth in the world. “Sa-Sa—.” she whimpered.

“But all that wasn’t enough, was it Né-san? Just when I had finally found some happiness with Sempai, you want to take that from me too,” Sakura said, her face returning to a grimace of rage. “I heard you, Né-san. You were planning to kill me. You were going to take Sempai away and keep him for yourself. That day, years ago, when I watched him try again and again, I knew you were watching too. And then you show up at his house, you invade the one place I could feel safe at, the one place I could call my real home. And then you came here to kill me, to clean up the mess that Father helped make.”

Suddenly finding her voice, Rin cried out. “No, Sakura! I could never really, I love you, please! I’m so—!” She was cut off by a mass of liquid shadow filling her mouth as if she were eating mud.

“It is far too late for that, Né-san.” Sakura’s voice sounded apologetic, maybe even a little melancholy. “You lost your chance long ago to save me, along with my forgiveness. And here, in the end, you are too weak to do anything. Tōsakas fight to win, but here, you have lost everything.”

The ooze-like darkness covered Rin’s eyes, plunging her into a void deeper than any night could ever be.

“I’m so hungry,” said Sakura, almost sulkily. “I’ll start by eating you, Né-san. Then, it will be Sempai’s turn. After all, who has more right to end you two than me?”

Rin’s body, that she had believed to be completely numb, suddenly became alive with agony. As she attempted to scream, the thick shadow crawled further and further down her throat making breathing impossible. Sakura, her thoughts cried out, I’m sorry!

* * * * *

She awoke gasping, sitting up and clutching her chest, feeling the impossibly rapid beats of her heart. Relief washed over her as her mind assured her that it had all been a dream. Closing her eyes, she concentrated and steadied her breathing with practiced precision. Quickly, her pulse returned to normal.

Once again relaxed, Rin collapsed back onto her bed. She felt the sweat on her forehead, seemingly out of place in the pre-dawn London chill. She mentally chided herself for becoming so upset over a simple nightmare. Do I still feel guilty? she asked herself silently. But there was nothing to feel guilty about anymore. The events of five years ago, the sins of her family, they were all in the past now, and all was well.

Sakura was safe, rescued from her fate by those who loved her. Rin could rest easy, secure in the knowledge that her younger sister was now happy and together with the one she loved, the one who had given his life to save her. Rin glanced at the large red pendant on her bedside table and smiled to herself. Sakura’s pain was over, her life finally her own.

Rolling onto her side, Rin waited for sleep to reclaim her. She allowed the warmth of the blankets and the softness of the mattress to draw her into their inviting embrace. Just as she was about to drift off again, her alarm clock struck 6 and began to squeal its horrid song.

Irritation struck Rin at an unconscious level. Before she really knew what she was doing, her switch had been flipped, a small amount of prana flowed through her now active circuits and her left index finger pointed directly at the annoying clock. The offending device exploded into shrapnel of plastic and wires as the gandr shattered it. Finally becoming fully aware of the situation, Rin sat up and sighed. She would need to buy another alarm clock today.

With a yawn, she stretched and threw off the covers. Rolling off the single bed, she padded across the tiny flat to her tiny closet, carelessly tossing off her nightgown as she walked. As she dressed, she recalled that Lord el-Melloi had talked her into lecturing his beginning students that morning and she made a mental note to re-introduce her knee to his crotch next time she saw him.

Gathering up a few jewels, the pendant, her notes, and her gym bag, she gave a departing look around her flat. It was so empty. Were it not for the small piles of clothes and the stacks of books, one would think it was vacant. Slipping on her favorite red coat, Rin flipped off the lights, picked up her bag and umbrella, and closed and locked the door behind her. Minutes later, she was making her way through the London drizzle toward the Clock Tower. As she walked, she couldn’t help but think how this morning was nearly identical to the one before it. And the one before that. Startled, she realized she had thought the same thing yesterday. Even my thoughts are becoming routine, she mused.

* * * * *

It was nearly 9 o’clock when Rin arrived back at her flat. “Tadaima,” she said knowing fully that no one would respond. All was the same as she had left it.

Setting down her bag, she rubbed her tired muscles. She had spent nearly two hours practicing her Ba Ji Quan in the Clock Tower’s seldom used training hall. While most mages dismissed martial arts as unnecessary and useless, the Tōsakas had never ceased their practice of it; they did not forget their roots.

She undressed and eagerly made her way to the small bathroom to shower. She reveled in the hot water, letting it cleanse the fatigue from her body and mind. After that morning’s lecture, she had spent several hours in her own workshop researching new incantations. Though relatively simple, such study was monotonous and taxing. Her study had continued into the evening, only broken by a short meal. The exhaustion and fatigue of the kenpo training had been a relief to the mind-numbing drudgery that was the study of thaumaturgy.

After dressing in her favorite nightgown, Rin opened the newly purchased alarm clock and set the time before taking a seat in the flat’s only chair and taking out the familiar syringe. Ever since she could remember, she had saved any excess prana left after the day within her jewels. Instead of choosing from one of the plethora of normal gems, however, something compelled her to choose the large crimson pendant. She gazed into its many facets and allowed the memories it invoked to wash over her.

Five years ago, she had inherited its twin from her father, a token bequeathed to his daughter and heir. A potent talisman, it had been filled with many years worth of prana. She had used it as a catalyst to summon her Servant for the Heaven’s Feel. And then, in a display of emotion unbecoming of a true Magus, she had used nearly all of it up to repair the pierced heart of a boy who had been caught up in the warring of Magi.

She had found him there in that dark corridor, clinging impossibly to life, his heart run through by the cursed spear. When she had realized who it was, she had been torn between her heart and her duty. She had known how important Emiya-kun was to Sakura, and maybe, just maybe, he had held a place in her own heart even then. It had been an act of mercy that became the crux of events that would affect the fates of many.

Her mind flashed back to the sarcastic Servant sitting among the wreck of an upstairs room. She found it ironic that her own actions had forged the link between the catalyst and the Servant. Comparing her memories of Archer with the Emiya-kun she knew, it was difficult to see them as the same person; and perhaps they weren’t truly. Yet, recalling the time she had spent with her Servant, she could see how Emiya-kun might have become Archer had the path he had taken been different. And much sadder, she thought to herself. Behind all the sarcasm, the rough exterior, and even the kindness that seemed to be a part of him no matter how his life had gone, she had caught glimpses of a hidden despair within her Servant that was totally alien to Emiya-kun.

She inspected the faded bruise-like mark on her arm that was all that remained of her Command Seal. Archer had smiled to her at the end, his face finally relaxed as he faded away. As he said his goodbyes, he had been so like Emiya-kun. Always the one to sacrifice, Archer had left a final gift to the himself who was not himself. And in the end, it had saved them all.

This pendant, she thought, holding the necklace gently in her hand, this is my gift from you, isn’t it? Another me saved your life once with this. You carried it all the rest of your life, didn’t you? Just like Emiya-kun still kept its twin, the very jewel that Rin had used to save him.

Her reverie was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. Picking up the chiming device, she saw that it was the Emiya residence. “Yes?” she answered.

"Né-san?” said a gentle voice.

“Ah, Sakura,” Rin said, her face alighting with a smile to hear her sister.

“How are you, Né-san? I hope I didn’t catch you in bed.”

“No, I was just doing my nightly rituals.”

“Ah, I see…” Sakura hesitated.

“Sakura,” Rin said, sensing something on her sister’s mind, “What is it? Has Shirō done something?”

“I… I’m pregnant, Né-san.”

It took a moment for Rin to recover from her shock at the quite unexpected news. It seemed that Emiya-kun had done something. “That’s wonderful, Sakura,” she finally managed.

“You’re shocked, aren’t you, Né-san?”

“Well of course,” Rin sputtered. “It’s not every day that I get to hear my baby sister tell me that I’m going to be an aunt.” She immediately began to feel older than her twenty-two years warranted. “I’m really happy for you and Shirō, but aren’t you a little young to be having children? You’re not even finished with college yet.”

“I know, Né-san, but…” Rin could nearly hear the blush that was appearing on her sister’s face through the phone. “We didn’t exactly try to…”

“I get it,” Rin said, sparing Sakura from explaining anything further. It was indeed quite surprising; Sakura had expressed her fears that she wouldn’t be able to have children after all the stress her body had undergone over the years of her “education” with the Matō family and her subsequent ordeal as the Grail. “How far along are you?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Only two and a half months,” Sakura said. “Né-san,” Sakura continued, suddenly changing her tone, “when are you going to come back? You’ve been in England so long now. You don’t even come visit us for Christmas. And I need you. I want you to be here when my baby is born.”

Rin immediately felt guilty hearing the genuine emotion in Sakura’s words. “I’m sorry, Sakura,” she said. “I’ve been very busy here. But I promise, I’ll finish up my work here and be back soon.”

“We just miss you, Né-san, Sempai and Rider too. And me most of all. We’re your family, Né-san.”

“I miss you too,” Rin replied, now feeling extremely guilty and sad at the same time. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back as soon as I’m done here. After all, I have to make sure my idiot apprentice does his duties as a daddy.”

“Né-san, you shouldn’t say such things about Sempai,” said Sakura, who still couldn’t understand Rin’s teasing at times.

Rin chuckled. “I got it. Now, as your teacher, I expect both you and Shirō to have thoroughly improved in your magecraft. When I get back, I’ll be sure to test you.”

“Of course, Né-san,” Sakura said, sounding genuinely happy. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Take care, Sakura. And take care of that baby. And Shirō too, I guess.”

“I will, Né-san. Please come back soon.”

“I will. Bye, Sakura.”

“Bye, Né-san.”

Rin closed her phone and sighed. This was quite unexpected. Despite what she had told Sakura, Rin was now less eager than ever to return to Fuyuki. She just felt so left behind, like she was no longer part of the flow of life. The world that Sakura and Emiya-kun lived in was not her world. She had chosen the path of the magus. That path was entirely different from the life that her sister was now leading. While Sakura walked the path of the family, the path of small happiness, Rin continued to tread the magus’s path, the path of sacrifice and loneliness.

Sinking into thought, Rin began the task of transferring the day’s unused prana into the pendant.

But where did the path of the magus lead? Rin remembered her own family and the tragedies that had plagued it. When her father had decided to give Sakura to the Matōs, their mother had remained silent, although Rin had seen how much it hurt Aoi. Silent and dutiful, Aoi Tōsaka had been the perfect wife of a magus. But those virtues had gained her nothing in the end but a broken mind and a death from a broken heart years later. No, Rin’s mother had truly died two years before with her husband.

Was it Father’s wishes that kept Rin on the same path? She wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew was that she was a magus, and she would continue to that unattainable goal that all magi shared.

And what of my future? Rin wondered. She would need a successor eventually, a blood heir to pass the crest on her arm to, so that the quest that the Tōsaka family had embarked upon two hundred years ago would continue. Shirō and Sakura were her apprentices, but neither would succeed her; they were not truly magi. She would need a child of her own to be her true heir.

But the task of finding a partner for such an endeavor did not interest her in the least. She thought about her previous boyfriend and immediately became angry. That idiot was probably hitting on teenage students at that very moment. She wondered if there was someone out there she could be happy with, like Sakura and Shirō were with each other.

The last time she had been in Fuyuki had been over a year ago for Fujimura-Sensei’s wedding. Rin had been quite surprised to hear the news; Fujimura Taiga was a Christmas-Cake, and with her personality, she had seemed destined to be single forever. No one, it seemed, had been more pleased with the news than Taiga’s grandfather, who had spared no expense in hosting a splendid western-style wedding.

Rin had enjoyed herself immensely. It had been wonderful catching up with Ayako and her other classmates, not to mention the delight in teasing Ryuudo-kun again. She had laughed at old memories, playfully teasing Sakura and Shirō about their relationship. She and Rider had talked at great lengths about books over drinks. It was later in the night, when the dancing started, that she realized how empty she sometimes felt. As the couples danced, Rin remained sitting at the table alone. She watched as Sakura and Shirō drifted through the steps, smiling blissfully at each other, as if just being together was all that they could ever hope for. Rin had watched the two of them, thinking of what she had to look forward to back at the Association, the return to long lonely days and nights with only ancient words and insincere stuck-up magi to keep her company. And she had dutifully returned to that lonely existence early the next morning.

The image of her sister and the man who loved her dancing happily still stuck vividly in her mind. As much as she would like to deny it, she envied them. Their dance and the looks exchanged seemed to embody all that was denied to her─ no, all she had denied herself─ in following the path of a magus.

Again, her thoughts turned to Archer. What path did you take in life? Before he had disappeared, he had commented on giving up his own vendettas. Somehow, Rin had decided that he had come to kill his past self. But you realized that this Shirō was not you. He had chosen differently by giving up everything for Sakura. Why did you want to end yourself so much? Didn’t you become a hero like you always wanted?

Her vision began to blur, her head was swimming. How long had she been storing prana? She looked to the clock and managed to make out 1:59. She had been at this far too long, drained far too much prana from herself while she was lost in thought. Once again, she thought, I have managed to make a colossal error. As she passed out, she barely noticed the pendant in her hand begin to glow.

* * * * *

I materialize at the edge of the forest surrounding the manor complex, two hundred meters from the walls. My eyes fill with prana, magnifying the surroundings and penetrating the darkness of the night. I can see several familiars standing sentry between the walls and myself. Atop the walls and on either side of the closed gate stand several human guards armed with automatic weapons.

The shape of a bow appears in my mind, a perfect image. Prana flows through my arm and forms the weapon. There is also a sensation that I identify as pain. In my right hand, I make an arrow. Knocking and drawing, I take aim at the nearest of the familiars. The instant I loose, another arrow is in my hand and I have knocked and aimed again. After the familiars are dispatched, I take aim at the guards atop the wall. My shots fly straight, piercing eyes and necks, sending the guards tumbling with the force of the impact. The two surrounding the gate fall last. Five seconds have passed since I was born in this place.

I allow the bow to disperse and dash toward the walls. As I run, I prepare a dozen pairs of Kansho and Bakuya, visualizing them and leaving them on the verge of projection. There is a kekkai over the door that I cannot pass easily. I leap over the wall instead, landing atop its battlements. It has been twelve seconds since I was born and no alarm has been raised. Before me lies a large manor house in the middle of a courtyard. Inside are sixty-three humans. Tonight, they will all die.

The remaining guards have begun to notice their fallen comrades. I project the first pair of swords, throw them toward one pair and then project another. I run toward the next group and dispatch them before they are able to react. As the first pair of swords return to me, I disperse the pair in my hands to catch the blades as they return, the bloodied blades confirming my aim. It has been twenty seconds since I was born and all the guards are dead.

The doors to the manor itself are not locked. Few lights are lit due to the late hour. I make my way to the great hall unopposed. There are five kekkais placed over the door. One protects from spiritual entities, one from sound, two from physical penetration, and one I do not recognize. Once again, the bow is in my hand. I reach inside myself and find the record of a sword I have modified. As I project the adapted form of Caladbolg, I infuse it with additional prana, assuring that it is more powerful at the cost of instability. I knock, draw and release once again, aiming at the wall to the side of the door which have weaker kekkai upon them. The walls explode and the air is clogged with debris and dust. It has been thirty seconds since I was born.

Kansho and Bakuya are in my hands when I leap through the hole I have made and enter the great hall. There are thirteen magi in the room surrounding a massive table, and most are too stunned to do anything. A few fire spells at me, but their vision is obscured by the dust from the explosion and I am moving too fast for them to hit me. I dispatch them first, aiming for necks and abdomens. Before the dust has settled, all are dead and I am unharmed. It has been thirty-six seconds since I was born.

As the air clears, I notice something I had not accounted for. Another figure stands at the head of the table. The magus is short and his face is obscured by a cloak and hood. I did not notice this magus when I entered the room, and did not sense his presence. I feel what I believe is surprise.

The voice is that of a woman. “Ah, a dog of humanity,” she says. “I might have expected something like you.”

I have no response. I have no need for words. I move toward her with my blades ready.

“It is a pity that you killed all these humans for naught,” she says as she raises her arms. “You have prevented nothing.” Black fog emerges from her hands, and gathers to form a pair of huge black hounds. The beasts leap toward me.

I twist and dodge their jaws. The dogs are a step slower than me and I can slash them while dodging. The wounds I inflict slow the beasts further and soon they cannot avoid fatal slashes. As they die, the dogs return to fog. With the battle no longer distracting me, I finally notice the huge accumulation of prana where the magus stands.

In her hands is a sphere of compressed prana of a staggering level. “It is useless to kill something like you,” the magus says, “but I shall enjoy doing it nonetheless.” As she finishes her words, she fades and vanishes, leaving the glowing sphere behind.

The sphere begins to expand. The heat almost burns my skin from where I stand several meters away. My mission is not done. I must survive.

My mind immediately turns to Rho Aias, but I can see that it will not be enough to defend against such a strong attack. Searching deeper within my own inner world, I recognize something. I draw upon as much prana as I am able to and am nearly overcome by the sensation of pain. Before me, a blue and gold scabbard forms. The sight of it causes odd feelings to surface within me. As it glows, I feel suddenly liberated from the world. I can feel the source of prana that sustains me cut off as I am surrounded by light.

Moments later, the scabbard fades away and I am standing upon rubble, surrounded by flames. My connection to the world is restored. Through the crackling, I can hear the noise of humans. I can recognize the sound as moans of agony and cries of despair. There are fifteen people who have survived the explosion. I surmise that they were the families of the magi who were staying here along with some servants.

A sword is in my hand, and I move about the rubble to dispatch them. The flames are all that move now. It has been one hundred seconds since I was born.

A glow apart from the fire catches my eye. It seems I am wearing something around my neck. The red pendant must have slipped from under my clothes during my battle. I remove the gem and hold it in my hand. It is glowing. I feel something… Something…

I see faces. Faces smiling. Faces crying. Familiar faces. Faces I know I love. Soon they are accompanied by voices, by names, by memories…

I look around desperately. The carnage around me is familiar. I picture myself walking through a firestorm, my mind muddled with confusion and pain. This hell around me is familiar. The dead bodies around me carry the same despair I saw at that time. The fire and the death haunt me. And I know it was me who brought death to them. Moments before, they were crying out to me, and I killed them. My sword was the last thing that they ever saw.

“No,” I hear myself say, my voice cracking. “I, I…” What have I done? Why did I do it? Tears form in my eyes. This is what I am. I am a killer, just a cleaner. This is where my dreams led me. This is the path of the hero. It has led me to hell. I scream. I wail unashamedly. “Oyaji! Fuji-né! Ilya! Sakura! Saber! Tōsaka!” I cry out the names I have forgotten until just now, names of those I loved. “Help me!”

The glow of the pendant fades. The tears dry suddenly, and I cannot remember why they had appeared in the first place. There had been names and faces, but those too are gone. Once again, I am alone among the dead. I have done my job. Disaster has been averted. I am a hero, although no one will ever know.

My body begins to dissipate. Two hundred and five seconds after I was born, I return to death.

* * * * *

In London, Tōsaka Rin returned to consciousness very slowly. “Shirō,” she whispered. She had dreamed of him. But it had not been him. “Archer?” But that wasn’t right either. It was Emiya Shirō who had been in her dreams, but not any Emiya that she had known, not quite. “What exactly was that?” she wondered aloud.

Something compelled her to pick up her phone and dial the Emiya household. After a few rings, a masculine voice answered, “Yes, Emiya residence.”

“Emiya-kun?”

“Ah, Tōsaka,” Shiō said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Isn’t it awfully late in London?”

She looked at the clock. It was 3:30, making it about 12:30 in Japan. “I was just up late working on some important things,” she fibbed.

“Ah, I see,” said Shirō. “It’s good to hear from you. Sakura is out to lunch with Rider and Fuji-Né. Do you want me to have her call you when she gets back?”

Rin forgot to breathe for a moment. Shirō’s voice was slightly different, but hearing him saying those names had momentarily transported her back to her dream. My name had been included, she thought. “No, that won’t be necessary. Actually, I called to check up on you, Shirō.”

“Eh? Why me, Tōsaka?”

“A master must be concerned about her student, Emiya-kun,” she said, trying to sound as stern as possible. “I expect that you have mastered all the exercises I left for you.”

“Of course, Tōsaka,” he replied, sounding a bit nervous (she had almost forgotten how much fun it was to tease him). “I mean it has been years since you were here.”

“I know.”

He suddenly sounded serious. “Sakura misses you very much, you know.”

“I know,” she repeated. “I’ll be back soon, Shirō.” Her voice once again took up a scolding tone, “Now, about this whole issue of what you’ve done to my sister.”

“Wha—what do you mean, Tōsaka?” He was nervous again.

“Now that you’re a daddy, I’ll expect even more out of you. I also expect you to keep up your training and study. I plan on bragging about my apprentice to the low-lives here at the Association. You got that?”

“Of course, Tōsaka,” he said.

She could almost see his familiar smile, full of confidence. “Take care of Sakura.”

“Of course,” he repeated.

She realized how absurd her request had been. He had always taken care of everyone, and she knew that he would continue to do so. His love for others had extended beyond even death itself. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes. Her voice, however, was steady. “Good. As expected of my student.” One final thought came to her, “Shirō, are you alright? Have any strange things been happening? Are you having strange dreams?”

“Strange dreams? No. Everything’s been normal, Tōsaka. Why do you ask?”

“Never mind,” she said. All was well in Fuyuki. “I’ve got to go now. Take care, Daddy.”

Shirō was obviously put a little off balance by her address. “Uh, yeah. You too, Tōsaka,” he stammered. “Come back soon.” And he hung up.

For long minutes, Rin sat alone in the dark. What did I expect? she wondered. It was just a dream, wasn’t it? But something about the vision struck her as odd. It had been like she had been living someone else’s dream. She had been inside the mind of that strange Emiya. What was he? His thoughts had been so cold for most of the experience, almost mechanical. What did the dream mean? Tens of people had been killed in the events it depicted. Had it really happened? Surely the deaths of a dozen magi at such a meeting would be big news, even among the secretiveness of the Association.

It surprised her how much of the dream she remembered clearly. The thaumaturgy wielded had definitely been that used by both Emiya-kun and Archer. But how is it possible to summon a spirit like that without the aid of the Grail? Physical manifestation of a high-level spiritual being like an Eirei was nearly on the level of Magic. It’s like he was summoned by something not human. Something else.

Her ponderings returned to a subject that she hadn’t thought about in quite a while: How did Shirō become an Eirei to begin with? When summoning Servants for the Heaven’s Feel, the Grail should only have been able to bring forth Heroic Spirits from the past, yet her Archer had been an unknown magecraft user from some future. She had given up trying to answer the question years ago, but now, it seemed desperately important that she find the answer.

She knew of one man who was good at getting answers, although she did not look forward to meeting with him for such business. Reluctantly, she flipped through the directory of her cell phone, found his number, and left him a mail requesting a meeting. She added “YOU OWE ME!” to the end for added assurance.

Knowing that she wouldn’t sleep the rest of the night, she dressed herself, no longer feeling the fatigue of her earlier sessions. The libraries and archives of the Association never closed, and she was full of drive. As she strode fearlessly through London’s night streets, she heard the twitter of her phone’s message alert. Not surprisingly, he had been up at this time, probably playing those stupid games again. “I’ll meet with you at the usual spot at 7 tonight,” said his message. The curt response usually meant he was irritated, which left her feeling quite satisfied. She hadn’t felt this good in months.