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#08: Poison Heart Part 8
Gertrude Claimthorn may have been an old woman, but that hadn’t stopped her from entering the Holy Grail War. In fact, the woman wearing a purple coat had done everything to participate, and there she was, now the Master of the Saber-class Servant. The Holy Grail War meant a lot to her – she had sworn that she wouldn’t lose again. Not three times in a row. Claimthorn knew things. She knew things the other participants didn’t know, things not even the Servants knew. This not only gave her the upper hand, but also the attitude she had towards the Rosebridge Holy Grail War. She took it seriously, but saw it as of lesser worth than the two Holy Grail Wars she had participated in before. This time, she wasn’t out to have a wish granted per se, but rather, she needed the Grail to make her escape. Because ”it” was coming, and she was running out of time. That being said, she did want the Grail for herself, just… not this particular Grail. That was one of the things she knew. This wasn’t the same Holy Grail she had fought for the past two times. No, this one could by all means be called the Fake Grail. It still had power, and exactly the kind of power Claimthorn wanted – no, needed. She was currently in her office, sipping tea behind her desk. Her ally sat at a table at one corner of the room, flipping through books and a laptop open next to him. His name was Richard Ainsworth, and was a middle-aged man wearing a buisiness suit. He was researching heroes in history trying to figure out Assassin’s True Name. ”Visha Kanya was the name of her Noble Phantasm,” he said. ”That is also the name of female assassins in ancient India.” ”So she was a member of that group of assassins?” ”Probably.” ”Her True Name?” Ainsworth frowned. ”That’s it. She probably doesn’t have one. Visha Kanya was the name of the assassin group, so I would say that could be considered her True Name. Sulochana was a Visha Kanya known to be able to kill a man just by looking at him, but I don’t think it’s her.” Claimthorn took another sip of her tea. ”So her identity as part of the group is considered her True Name, then.” ”The Visha Kanyas could kill by touch, so we know poison won’t work on her. Then again, it works on few Assassins.” ”Master.” Claimthorn heard Saber’s voice in her head. Judging by Ainsworth’s reaction, he had heard his own Servant, Lancer’s, voice. ”Yes?” ”Someone’s… well, someone is requesting to see you.” ”Oh? How did they find us?” ”Well… the thing is… he is a Ruler-class Servant.” Claimthorn looked at Ainsworth. It was only to be expected, considering how this Holy Grail War could be considered an irregularity in itself, and normally Rulers manifested as overseers whenever larger irregularities happened in a Holy Grail War. With the Grail being fake, and Berserker’s Master being a computer program, she wasn’t surprised that a Ruler had manifested. Of course, she was the only one who knew the Grail was fake. She told Saber to send Ruler in, and shortly thereafter, there was a knock on the door. ”Come in,” she said, and stood up. In entered what looked like a teenage boy, with green, long hair. What Claimthorn found strange was that most Rulers were Saints, and the boy looked like he had come straight from an ancient Inca or Aztec civilization. Then again, the Grail itself was Fake, so anything could probably happen. In fact, Berserker would probably have never been summoned at all if the Grail had been the True Grail. ”Welcome, Ruler,” Claimthorn said. ”May I offer some tea.” ”Ah,” Ruler said. ”I’d rather not. But thank you for the, how do you say, offer?” Claimthorn nodded, and motioned to a chair in front of her desk. She sat down in her own as Ruler sat down in the one she had motioned to. ”I am Gertrude Claimthorn, Saber’s Master, and this -” she motioned to Ainsworth – ”is Richard Ainsworth, Lancer’s Master. Now, what do we owe this pleasure?” Ruler chuckled. ”Ufufu… as you know, I am meant to oversee the Holy Grail War. I am aware that there are, how do you say, unusual? Servants summoned, but that is irrelevant. The Grail can accept that.” He made a pause. ”What is unacceptable, however, is Assassin.” ”Oh?” It was Ainsworth who spoke up. ”How come?” Ruler chuckled again. ”Assassin and her Master are breaking the rules. They are involving commoners in their schemes.” ”Is that so?” Claimthorn knew that involving humans who weren’t Masters was against the rules – at least not innocent people going by with their daily lives. ”Indeed. It is unforgivable. Parxaarah!” Ruler motioned with his hands into the air. ”That is, to say, I cannot allow it. As a Ruler, and as a ruler both, I must stop them. Assassin’s Master seems to be commanding Assassin to target commoners, and then using their hearts for something. What, I do not know, but Assassin’s Master must be punished.” Claimthorn scratched her chin. ”I see. So you are invoking your right as Ruler to take down Assassin and her Master?” Ruler nodded and stood up. ”Not yet, but indeed. Whoever takes them down will recieve an extra Command Seal. One for the Master, and one for Assassin.” He seemed to think for a moment before continuing. ”Your Servants will know when it is time. I must contact the other Masters first, but I will issue the order by using one of my many Command Seals.” Indeed. Ruler’s body was covered in large Command Seals, looking like red tattoos. Two for each Servant, making 14 in total. Taking down Assassin was already Claimthorn’s and Ainsworth’s current goal, making having the support of Rider and the other Servants perfect. Claimthorn stood up and held out her hand. ”Then it is agreed.” Ruler looked at Claimthorn’s outstretched hand. ”I do not shake hands with scheming bitches – sorry, witches. Sorry, I mean, I do not want to dirty my hands,” he said, and turned around, leaving the room with Claimthorn still standing there, hand outstretched. Ainsworth tried to muffle a laugh from his corner.
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#07: Poison Heart Part 7
Berserker – a Class associated with madness. In exchange for their sanity, however, they are stronger – few servants stand a chance at fighting them head-on. This particular Berserker didn’t feel mad, however. A Servant is a Heroic Spirit summoned into one of the seven vessels (known as the seven classes) prepared by the Holy Grail. They are spirits removed from the ring of reincarnation and sent to the Throne of Heroes. In other words, they are heroes of the past, whose memories and personalities are placed in a vessel. When they die, the information they gathered during their time as Servants is sent back to the ”original” residing in the Throne of Heroes. There are exceptions to the rule of Servants being of the past – some are from fiction, where a human who once lived who is either the inspiration of the fiction or close to the fictional character is summoned and has the attributes and such of the fiction added to them. Berserker was different from even that. He was, like most Servants, once a human. He lived his life like any other human, until one day his passiveness and boredom caused something bad to happen. He couldn’t remember what, but he knew it had caused people to die. Because of what some people would call being lazy and indifferent, he had allowed something bad to spread throughout the world – an event which had killed countless people. People had died because of his Sloth. Berserker was someone who never should have been summoned as a Servant, but due to the nature of his Master, it happened regardless. He was a human given the identification and aspect of ”Sloth”, and made to fight as a Berserker. He knew that he was unlike other Servants given aspects and attributes of people who never existed or of fictional concepts. He wouldn’t return to the Throne of Heroes when he died – like other Servants, he was memories and a personality, but had no ”original” to return to. Because of that, he would just disappear, much like his Master when their death would come. Berserker was a man who looked to be around 30. He had short, dark brown hair, and bright, yellow eyes. He wore Dark brown pants held up with a black belt, and dark boots strapped onto his feet. His jacket was open, and the lack of a shirt led his chest to be revealed for all to see. Berserker was at this moment sitting on the floor in a dark room, his legs crossed. On a small table in front of him was a lit screen, and behind it was a large collection of industrial computers. The only thing displayed on the screen was a Command Seal and a text box below it. The screen – or rather, what was inside the computers filling the room – was the cause of Berserker existing. The Master of Berserker was an artificially created Master – a computer program built only to participate in the Holy Grail War. Berserker suspected it was very much against the rules, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t. The door behind him opened, and he could hear someone entering the room. One – no, two people entered. One of them spoke with a nasally voice, and Berserker knew it to be the middle-aged man who had built his Master. Berserker didn’t know his name. He had been told it, but never cared enough to remember it. ”Berserker,” the man said. ”It’s time for you to move out.” ”I couldn’t be bothered.” The man made a sound as if to protest, but the other person who had entered the room spoke. ”Very well, then.” Berserker glanced back over his shoulder. It was the old woman who had commissioned the man to build the Master Program, and the Master of the Saber-class Servant. Berserker didn’t particularly like her. Berserker didn’t say anything, but returned to watching the screen. He didn’t know if he wanted to call it such, but his Master was in an alliance with the masters of Saber and Lancer. The reason he didn’t want to call it an ”alliance” was because of the fact that the Master Program was created solely to work with Saber’s Master, and then terminate when there were only the two Masters left, leaving Saber’s Master the winner. Berserker would probably have protested being used like that, but the aspect of Sloth made him stop caring whenever he, well, cared about it. What a pain. Saber’s Master spoke again. ”I suspected as much.” ”If that’s the case, then why are you here?” ”I thought I would share Saber’s meeting with Assassin with you.” ”I don’t care.” ”Oh?” Saber’s Master raised an eyebrow. ”How so?” ”If I come across Assassin, they’ll die.” Saber’s Master chuckled. ------- Assassin’s True Name was Vishna Kanya, which was coincidentally also the name of her Noble Phantasm. She was one of many Vishna Kanyas, and as such it was pure luck she had been the one chosen to be summoned. Vishna Kanya were young women used as assassins during Ancient India. They were said to be able to poison their target with the touch of their skin. Assassin had to admit, though, that the Vishna Kanya Sulochana would have been more useful than her. Sulochana was the most well-known Vishna Kanya, said to be able to kill her target just by looking at them. This time, Assassin was sitting by a wooden table in a medium-sized apartment. She could hear her Master’s humming from the bathroom. Something about the woman made even Assassin uneasy, but she couldn’t exactly put her finger on it. Other than the fact that she was sly, scheming, and would stop at nothing to reach her goal – not even sacrifice her own Servant in favor of a stronger one, Assassin suspected. In fact, Assassin had tried to apprehend and keep her Master tied up just because of those suspicions, but whenever she had done so, Assassin’s Master had appeared free shortly thereafter, acting as if nothing had happened. Assassin looked down at the photos her Master had given her – photos of her targets. There were six of them. Caster. Rider. Archer. And their three Masters.
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#06: Poison Heart Part 6
”Uhm...” Charlie looked at the old house in front of her. Helenah had taken her to the outskirts of Rosebridge after having showed up at Charlie's house and offering an alliance between the two Masters. Charlie had agreed, and now stood in front of the abandoned building. Rider and Caster were there as well, but Caster was hiding in spirit form. Rider was wearing Charlie's mother's clothes, and had told Charlie that due to Charlie's novice level as a magus, Rider was unable to enter spirit form. ”So why are we here...?” ”Caster traced and calculated the source of the second arrow to be around this area. If that is the case, then this would be the place.” Helenah shrugged. ”This is the only building in the area, so it's either here our out in the woods. If we investigate this building first, we can move on to the woods.” Rider coughed. ”So we are here to take out Archer, then?” Helenah looked at Rider. ”Perhaps.” ”Perhaps?” ”They're trying to conceal their presence, but they're inside. Likely Archer and their Master.” It was Caster's voice. ”Please give me a moment.” Charlie stood quiet for a few seconds before speaking. ”Ehr... so what are we doing?” Helenah looked at her. ”Waiting.” And wait, they did. After about five or ten minutes, Charlie heard Caster's voice again. ”We can come in.” Helenah gave Caster a ''Thank you'' and made her way to the front door, Rider following and Charlie hurrying to keep up. Charlie coughed as she entered the dusty old house. It was, in every sense, run down and abandoned, and it looked as if no one had lived in it for at least 10 years. ”Upstairs,” Caster directed, and the group carefully made their way up the creaky old stairs. By Caster's directions, they navigated the hallway on the second floor, ultimately standing in front of a door. Helenah knocked. ”Enter.” Helenah swung the door open and took a step inside. Charlie peeked out from behind her back, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark room. It looked sightly less abandoned, and it was clear that someone had made it their home. The old couch had a blanket draped over it, and various pieces of junk probably salvaged from trash cans and such were gathered in a pile in one corner. The most noticeable thing was the man standing in the room, though. He was over two meters in height, dressed in animal pelts and wearing a stag mask. The upper part of the mask was part of a stag's skull – antlers and everything. An owl was perched on top of his head, staring intently at the visitors. ”Come in.” From behind the man emerged a boy who seemed to be around Charlie's age, probably no older than eighteen at most. He was dressed in rags and wore a slightly too big old hat. Charlie realized it was he that had told them to enter. She followed Helenah and Rider into the room. The tall man's face was obscured by his mask, but it seemed almost as if he was studying Rider. The young man spoke. ”Your Servant told me you were looking for an alliance.” Helenah nodded. ”That is correct, yes.” The young man seemed to think for a while, then spoke again. ”Sure. But on one condition.” ”And that is?” This time it was Rider who spoke, in a commanding tone. That was when Charlie noticed that Rider was now wearing her robe again – she had been to busy worrying about herself that she hadn't noticed until then. ”There is someone I have to kill. That's why I entered the Holy Grail War.” ”So you're not interested in winning?” Helenah seemed surprised. ”No,” the young man glanced at his Servant, ”but I'm going to. It wouldn't be fair to my Servant if I didn't see it through.” ”So you want to kill this person yourself, I take it?” ”Yes. Her name is Gertrude Claimthorn, and should be a participant of this Holy Grail War.” ”Claimthorn... that is the name of a powerful family of magi. Yes, I would be surprised if they weren't participating in the war.” Rider looked at Helenah. ”So it's an heir?” ”No. Gertrude Claimthorn is the matriarch of the family.” The young man spit on the floor. ”She's an old hag, that's what she is.” ”That, too. My name is Helenah Kendall, the Master of Caster.” Caster manifested next to Helenah, and bowed slightly. ”I'm Gerard. Just... Gerard. And this big guy here is Archer.” Archer grunted, and Charlie shuddered. What a big spooky guy. She then realized that all eyes were on her. ”E-ehr...! I-I'm Charlie Fairsworth, and uhm, this is Rider...” ”Archer, Caster, and Rider...” Gerard said, deep in thought. ”Three Servants on the same team is amazing enough, as long as the remaining four don't team up. Plus, Archer is one of the knight classes, and Caster will do good with his magecraft.” ”And?” Rider didn't sound happy. ”And I guess Rider is good for front-line fighting.” Rider sighed, and Charlie couldn't help but to giggle. -TEN YEARS AGO- Jenna Kendall, eight years old. She was standing in the study of her grandfather Ulric Kendall’s associate, said grandfather and associate in the room with her. The two old men were having a discussion about something Jenna didn't fully understand. She knew that it was important, and that her family had been preparing for it for a long time. Something that was full of holes? She quietly snuck out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her to not disturb the people inside. She plopped down on a couch near the room, and looked out at the cloudless sky through the window. It was already noon. Another person sat down next to her. It was a man that Jenna had been told was helping her grandfather with something important, and her older sister Helenah had told her he was a familiar. Jenna didn't think too much about it, but knew she would probably have to learn more about it in the future - Helenah had been unable to use magecraft since birth, leaving Jenna the role to inherit the role of family head. The man had a stubbly face, and looked at Jenna with a kind smile. ”Jenna, are you getting bored?” ”Not really. I think it's interesting following grandpa around, but I don't understand everything yet, so I would just get in the way.” The man ruffled Jenna's hair and chuckled. ”Really?” ”What about you, Armstrong? Don't you get bored following grandpa around?” ”Not really. I was summoned so me and your grandfather could help each other out, since we want the same thing. And hey, I thought I told you to not call me Armstrong. It's Rider to you.” ”Hehe... It's your own fault for telling me your name.” Rider sighed, but didn't seem to be mad at the little girl. And it was true, what Jenna had said – ever since she overheard that Rider was just a classification, she had been bothering the man over and over until he finally gave in, on the condition of not using the name. Something about Rider made Jenna calm. Perhaps it was because he looked like he would be as old as Jenna's father if he had still been alive, or that he was generally a nice person - but either way, Jenna liked being around him. She knew that he wouldn't be around forever, but had decided to not think about it. She wasn't a fan of sad things. ------- The same night. The fire had engulfed the Kendall manor completely, and Jenna lay on the grass in front of it. She could barely hold her tears back – somewhere in the burning inferno was her grandfather. Her sister was away for the night, so it had just been Jenna and Ulric Kendall at home. Jenna was in a state of shock. She remembered fire, someone in the room with her grandfather, her grandfather telling Jenna to run, Jenna running, and someone chasing her. Then, she was out on the grass a bit away from the burning hell that up until tonight had been her home. The sound of footsteps in the grass made Jenna look up. It was Rider, covered in bruises. His clothes were stained red and burned, and he held his left side where Jenna could make out the biggest red stain of them all. ”Rid-” Jenna didn't have time to finish calling his name, because he was already down on the ground with her, holding her close. ”It's okay,” he murmured, ”It's okay.” That's when Jenna burst. Tears welled from her eyes, and she could do nothing but cry. Rider kept stroking her head gently, but she could tell he was having a hard time doing so. ”It's okay.” That's when she noticed a faint light surrounding the man. She looked up from his chest and was met by his gentle, smiling face. White particles of light were emerging from his body, and Jenna immediately realized he was starting to fade away. ”N-no! Rider!!” ”Jenna, always remember. Mystery creates wonder, and wonder... is the basis of man's desire to understand.” With those last words, he faded away. Jenna yelled out his name. ”Armstrong!!!” But it was too late. Rider was already gone, and wouldn't come back.
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#05: Poison Heart Part 5
Saber followed her Master’s orders. There was something unsettling about the old woman, but Saber concluded that, after all, they were participants of a war. Such things could matter less at times like those. Saber was a woman in her twenties dressed in what one would describe as male 17th century fashion, and wielded a lance at her hip. This wasn’t so strange, seeing as her True Name was Julie d’Aubigny, also known as Mademoiselle de Maupin or La Maupin. During her life, she had grown bored. Bored of many things. Bored of being a mistress, bored of society, bored of… well, the list goes on. One thing she never got bored of though was fencing. Saber knew that it was the reason she had been summoned as a Saber, although why she had become a Heroic Spirit to begin with was beyond her understanding. Her Master, though, speculated that it was due to her rebellious streak: she had not only run away from being her father’s boss’ mistress to eventually end up an opera singer, but also duelled noblemen left and right. One time, she had kissed another woman, and fought off three men defending the lady’s honor by herself. Eventually, though, Saber had hung up her sword and ended her singing career to enter a convent, where she spent the rest of her years. Due to her peak being in her twenties, that was what Saber had been summoned as. Like the seven Masters, the seven Servants, too, had their reasons for participating in the Holy Grail War. A Heroic Spirit without a wish is rarely summoned as a Servant, and then only under certain circumstances. Saber’s wish was simple – she wanted to live a life without boredom, where she got to be more free, more accepted to be herself. That being said, though, she was half afraid to grow bored of that as well, but speculated that the Holy Grail would have the power to make sure she wouldn’t. Hours before Charlie Fairsworth and Helenah Kendall’s meeting, Saber was on her Master’s orders investigating an area where her Master had found traces of magical energy. According to Saber’s Master, it was likely that an inexperienced or novice magus had performed a magic ritual in the area. It was a chilly early morning, the sun not having risen yet. The indistrual district was empty, and Saber made her way towards the abandoned factory building her Master had pointed out as the area with traces of magecraft. Saber stopped in front of the locked gates of the fence surrounding the building. Something was off. ”Hm? Did you perhaps sense something as well, my Dulcinea?” Lancer appeared behind her with those words. Lancer’s Master and Saber’s Master were allies, which made the Servants forced to work together as well. Normally, Saber would think it a good idea, however, this particular Lancer was… well, Saber speculated that he would have made a good Berserker if not for his, well, frail old body. Saber answered without looking at him. ”As I have told you multiple times, Lancer, I am not your Dulcinea.” ”Oh, this is a horror! How terrible! A spell has been put on you, twisting the words coming out of your mouth! Or perhaps it is my mind that has been cursed? It must have been that evil wizard from last night! No doubt about it! Have no fear, my dear Dulcinea, for I-” ”Be quiet, would you? You’re too loud, and you talk too much. Not to mention, if you keep shouting like that-” A dagger struck the ground between the two Servants. ”-you’ll expose our position.” Lancer took a step back. ”Well! I shall leave you to your mission, then! For I believe in you, my dear Dulcinea! Do not worry, however, for I shall be nearby, ready to aid you and defend your honor when needed! That being said, I-” ”Just leave.” Lancer faded away into spirit form, but Saber could sense him nearby. She stood quiet for a moment making sure his presence moved further away from the immediate area, before she knelt down to look at the dagger. She didn’t touch it, of course – that would have been a bad idea. ”A warning, huh.” Saber stood up and looked at the abandoned factory building. The dagger had come from there. ”Assassin, perhaps? In that case…” Fighting an Assassin-class Servant could go either way - if they struck from the shadows or concealed themselves, it could be troublesome. Some Assassins were competent in close combat, while it was the weakness of others. On the other end, the Saber class was considered the strongest class, but the fact that it was limited to the close quarters of swordsmanship was a drawback. Saber pulled out a small pebble from her pocket. It was a rune meant to dispel magic barriers and hidden contraptions. She had been given several by her Master. Saber took aim and threw it at the fence, which immediately lit up in sparks for three seconds. The sound of several objects made of metal or something the like hitting the ground echoed from somewhere nearby. So Saber’s hunch was right – the gate was a trap, and whoever tried to open it would most likely have been attacked with hidden daggers or knives. Saber entered the grounds, repeating the process with the large door to the factory’s warehouse. As she entered the dark building, The door slammed shut behind her. She carefully hid another rune in her hand, and readied her rapier with the other. Silence. ”Assassin, I presume?” No answer. Saber stood there quiet for a whole minute, before shouting again. ”Show yourself.” This time, she got an answer. It was weak and soft, and came from further into the warehouse. ”H-help…” Saber squinted. There, somewhere on the floor in the darkness, was a humanoid shape. The light of the slowly rising sun sipped through a hole in the roof, making the shape clearer. It was a teenage girl, seemingly roughed up. She had several cuts and bruises over her body, and she sat on the floor looking helplessly at Saber. ”P-please…” Saber didn’t answer. Instead, she threw the rune she had hidden in her free hand at the girl. She shrieked, and immediately disappeared into the shadows as the rune exploded into small sparks. ”Attacking innocent bystanders, are you?” The girl’s voice came from… well, everywhere. It echoed throughout the building, to be exact. ”The rune was designed to dispel magic. Even if you had stayed on the floor, it wouldn’t have harmed you. But, since you’re a Servant, you can’t afford to take that kind of risk.” ”So it was a ruse, then?” Saber sensed something from behind. The girls hands appeared in her vision, and in a split second Saber did not only realize the girl had appeared behind her, but also managed to make a jump to escape. She turned back, but saw nothing. ”Oh… I see. Not a lot of people can sense me. Oh, well. I was never one to hide in the shadows. I was always more of a hiding in plain sight kind of girl.” Saber sighed. ”So you are Assassin, after all.” ”And you must be Saber. Though I guess both our classes are blantantly obvious.” With that, three daggers shot out from the darkness to Saber’s left. She avoided two by swiftly stepping backwards, and the third by deflecting it with her rapier. Once again, Assassin’s hands reached out from the shadows, this time almost brushing Saber’s left hand. Saber’s thoughts flowed rapidly through her head as she avoided dagger after dagger, touch after touch. Why was she so bent on touching her? If assuming the daggers were were primary weapon, what good would touching her opponent do? She didn’t look strong enough to hold down her enemy and stab them, and that wasn’t usually an Assassin’s style. By that logic, there would have to be another reason as to why touch was important. Seeing as it was an unusual way of attacking, there would have to be something unique to the individual Assassin herself. Saber stood still and breathed heavily. ”I have you figured out.” ”Hmm? Well then, please explain.” Saber sighed. ”It’s your Noble Phantasm – the embodiment of the ultimate mysteries of a hero that symbolizes one's existence through historical facts and anecdotes.” Assassin chuckled. ”Well, that was certainly an explanation. But yes, you’re right –” Saber felt something grace her cheek, and spun around too late. Assassin had touched her cheek. ”Now, since you’re about to die, I’ll tell you.” Pain jolted through Saber’s body, and she fell to one knee. ”Visha Kanya. That is the name of my Noble Phantasm. It turns my entire body into a deadly poisonous weapon.” ”Poison…” ”Yes. And now, you are going to die within 10 minutes, 15 max. Sad, isn’t it?” ”Kh…!” At that moment, something burst through the wall. ” El Ingenioso Hidalgo de la Mancha!” The wall, along with almost the entire roof, blew away. Saber struggled to keep on the ground, and was almost hit by flying debris. As the dust settled, Lancer stood where the wall had been. Something was off with him, however. Well, at least more than usual. He stood there, almost as if in a trance, and stared at the speechless Assassin with wide, crazed eyes. ”Though ye flourish more arms than the giant Briareus, ye have to reckon with me.” Assassin seemed to snap out of it, because she said: ”Huh? Me?” Lancer plunged towards Assassin with his lance. ”Lancer, wait!” Saber called out to him, but to no avail. There was no need for Saber to be alarmed, though – Assassin didn’t have time nor room to touch Lancer as she barely avoided the lance head. She did, however, manage to grace him with a dagger. ”Hehehe… what are you, Berserker or something? Doesn’t matter though – my hands aren’t the only thing that are poisonous.” Lancer stood quiet, and Saber couldn’t help but to agree – Lancer almost seemed like an all-out Berserker. Was this part of his Noble Phantasm? She recalled hearing him shout the words ’’El Ingenioso Hidalgo de la Mancha. ”Feeling the poison coursing through your veins, right?” Then, Lancer glanced at Assassin, and plunged forward again. ”Fly not, coward and vile being, for a single knight attacks you!” ”Wh-” Once again, Assassin barely avoided the strike, and landed on a pile of debris. ”How… how are you not affected by my poison?!? Even a Berserker would… argh!” Saber asked herself the same thing, but then it hit her. Don Quijote – the man who fought against windmills, refusing to listen to any reasoning that the windmills were nothing but giants. That was Lancer’s True Name and real identity – or at least the man the story was based on. If that story, that event itself was Lancer’s Noble Phantasm, then it was no wonder he kept seeing Assassin as something else, and no wonder the poison didn’t affect him. His Noble Phantasm bended the rules, making him immune to any kind of reason close to a high-level Mad Enchantment of some Berserkers, but also immune to effects of any kind – within normal reasoning, a person would die from Assassin’s poison. On that effect, Lancer’s Noble Phantasm negated that normal reasoning, and thus negated the poison. Then, Saber realized something else. She slowly stood up, and Assassin looked at her in shock. ”Wh… what the?!? How can you stand?!?” ”Looks like… this guy’s Noble Phantasm affects not only himself, but things around him.” ”Kh!” Assassin avoided another blow from Lancer, and landed on another pile of debris. She looked at Lancer and Saber. ”This isn’t over.” With that, she disappeared into the shadows, and Saber lost trace of her spirit form. Lancer took a few steps forward, before collapsing onto the ground.
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#04: Poison Heart Part 4
Lunchtime. Charlie could barely believe what had happened the night before. The Holy Grail, Servants, her grandfather dabbling in magecraft, a war… it was all beyond Charlie’s world. She had known her grandfather had an interest in magic, but she had always thought it was more of a hobby than something he practiced. On what level he did, Charlie didn’t know, but it was still mind-shattering for her. She sighed and knocked on the door to her grandfather’s study. ”Do come in.” Charlie opened the creaking door and entered the dim room. By the desk sat Rider, reading a book; a candle the only source of light. She didn’t look up when Charlie entered. ”Uh, Rider, I’ve been thinking…” ”Yes?” Rider answered, uninterested and not looking up from her book. Charlie recognized it as one of her grandfather’s old books, tattered with age. ”Was it really a good idea to shoot at those people yesterday?” ”No.” ”Then why did you do it?” ”I asked you, didn’t I?” Rider closed the book and looked up at Charlie. ”I asked what your orders were. And, if you recall, your answer to that was ’’just do whatever you feel like, I don’t know!’’; and I did. I shot at one of the men, aiming to kill. I missed, or rather, he avoided my shot.” Charlie shook her head. ”B-but now they know where we are!?!” ”Yes. Let them come to us, I say. I’m already prepared.” Charlie blinked. ”Huh?” ”I set up a boundary field around the lawn this morning. It’s not that advanced since I’m not summoned as a Caster, but it should be strong enough to at least notify me when someone enters the territory.” She paused to think for a second, ”that, and their power should be noticeably lowered, giving me an advantage since I’ve made this villa my territory.” ”I don’t… really know what aboundary field is, but I guess it’s a good thing?” ”I’m a Rider, so I generally do best in open spaces where I can summon my steed, but alas. This should give me a little boost, though. Speaking of my boundary field, someone’s here.” ”Steed? You can summon a horse?!? W-wait.” Charlie let out a groan. ”Why didn’t you say so earlier?!? About someone being here, I mean!” Rider shrugged. ”It’ll be fine. I haven’t detected an enemy Servant, and I don’t detect the presence of command seals either. Then again, it could be an accomplice, so take it easy.” ”B-but…” Charlie was almost shouting. ”How… how can you be sure it’s not part of a Servant’s power?!?” Rider seemed to almost take offense at the thought. ”Honestly, Master. If there’s one thing that separates me from the other hunters, it’s that I’d detect a Servant entering my boundary field.” ”What hunters?” Rider ignored her Master. ”I may be summoned as a Rider, but the only Servants who could have a chance as passing through would be Assassin and Caster. If an Assassin is skilled enough to avoid my detection, we would be dead regardless. And Caster… well, I doubt Caster would just walk up and ring the doorbell-” The doorbell rang. Rider and Charlie both went quiet. ”…Well? Master, shouldn’t you go take a look?” ”Wh-” Charlie lashed out at Rider. ”I-idiot! W-what if it’s an enemy? I’m not a fighter!” Rider made a downwards waving motion with her hand, as if to shoo her Master. Charlie grumbled again, and left the room. The doorbell rang again, and Charlie made her way to the bottom floor and carefully looked through the peephole. Outside was a woman in her twenties that Charlie knew. Charlie knew her as Helenah Kendall, her late grandfathers caretaker since a year back. Charlie let out a sigh of relief and opened the door. ”Hi, Charlie.” ”H-hi, Helenah.” Helenah was wearing her typical black suit, complete with black gloves and everything. Charlie had to admit, she dressed really well in suits. Charlie stepped aside to let her inside. ”How are you holding up?” ”Huh?” It took Charlie a moment to realize Helenah was talking about her grandfather’s death. A lot of things had happened in the past 24 hours, and Charlie hadn’t had time to give her grandfather’s death much thought. She closed the front door as she answered. ”I’m okay, I guess. I’ve had a lot of things on my mind lately, that’s all.” Helenah nodded. ”I can imagine.” Charlie was relieved to see Helenah. Finally, someone who isn’t summoned through magic to fight in a deadly war. ”Charlie?” A chill went down Charlie’s back as she heard that voice. Not that it was filled with malice, or that the owner of it scared her (well, maybe a little), but the fact that she shouldn’t be hearing it in that time and place. She turned around to find Rider at the top of the staircase. However, She was dressed in what Charlie recognized as her late mother’s clothes, and pointy ears hidden behind her hair. ”W-wh-” Charlie was at a loss for words. Helenah looked surprised at Rider. ”Oh, you have a guest?” ”O-oh, w-well, t-this is-” ”Ah, forgive me!” Rider feigned a troubled expression as she walked down the stairs to join the other two. ”I didn’t mean to alarm you.” She reached out a hand to Helenah. ”My name is Hilda Fairsworth, a distant relative of Horace. I sadly couldn’t make it in time for the funeral, but I am here to visit his dear grandchild.” Helenah took Rider’s hand and shook it. ”Nice to meet you. I’m Helenah Kendall, Mr. Fairsworth’s caretaker.” She then leaned closer to Rider, and whispered, barely audible enough so that Charlie could hear. ”I also happen to be Caster’s Master.” Rider immediately let go of Helenah’s hand, and grabbed Charlie, who barely had time to process what was going on. Rider jumped back up to the top of the stairs and let go of Charlie, who immediately hid behind Rider. ”W-what’s going on? H-Helenah, you’re… part of this war as well?” Helenah nodded. ”Yes. I knew there was a Servant in this villa since last night. I knew Mr. Fairsworth dabbled a little in magecraft on the side, but to think he was fluent enough to prepare the summoning of a Servant…” She looked at Charlie. ”I’m guessing he set something up so that you would summon a Servant by accident, that old coot. I wouldn’t be surprised at all.” ”What do you want?” Rider said with disgust, her usual robes magically forming around her body, letting her take her usual form. ”I’m here to propose an alliance.” Rider frowned. ”An alliance?” ”Yes. And here is proof of that.” A middle-aged man dressed in white appeared next to Helenah, and Charlie immediately recognized him as one of the Servants from last night. He bowed gracefully. ”A pleasure to meet you, Servant and Master. As you know, I am Caster.” Helenah spoke again. ”You are the one who shot an arrow last night.” ”S-so what?” Charlie stuttered. ”It is very intriguing. I am unsure if it was visible from your position, but two arrows were shot – one at me, and one at Lancer.” ”I noticed,” Rider said. Charlie looked at her. ”I didn’t!” ”Of course not. You’re… well, you’re Charlie.” ”Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence.” ”You’re welcome. Anyways-” Rider looked at Helenah. ”You said something about an alliance?” Helenah nodded. ”Yes. Whoever shot that other arrow is most likely another Servant. Fighting them, plus four other, is going to be troubling. That’s why I thought I would propose an alliance until we’ve eliminated some of our enemies.” ”Ehr…” Charlie looked at Rider again. Rider kept staring at Helenah. ”I agree.” ”Huh?” Sure, Charlie wanted to ally herself with someone she knew, but she never thought Rider would agree to it. ”Why are you acting so surprised? It’s the best course of action, at least this early on in the war. Teaming up to take down other strong Servants isn’t that uncommon in these kind of wars.” ”W-well… I’m not really against it, but… Alright, if you’re okay with it, Rider, then I’m good for it too.” Caster nodded. ”Ah, Rider it is? That would mean our mystery archer is… well, Archer. At least I would assume so.” Caster made a pause. ”I just so happen to have an idea of the general area they might be in.”
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#03: Poison Heart Part 3
Jenna Kendall, a Master at the age of 18. From a lineage of magi, she entered the Rosebridge Holy Grail War for her family. This particular night, she was watching her Servant fight from a safe spot in the forest. It had started not that many minutes before. Jenna was out walking the night streets of Rosebridge, looking for traces of magic – in hopes of finding an enemy Master or traces of a Servant summoning. She was, after all, participating in a war. With her, although not in physical form, but hidden in spirit, was the Servant she had summoned; Caster. As she walked the empty streets, her invisible Servant spoke with the voice of a middle-aged man. ”Master, I must ask yet again – is this wise? Of course, I have asked this already, however-” ”Then you know my answer, Caster.” ”Yes, of course. However, I could send familiars to do the job. And frankly, so could you, Master.” ”I want to do this myself.” Caster didn't answer, and Jenna saw that as a win. She couldn't feel any traces of magic, and honestly, she wasn't surprised. Any Master of caliber wouldn't be so stupid as to- A blinding light flashed for half a second above Jenna. ”H-huh?” Jenna quickly recognized the source of the light as a magic barrier meant to deflect physical damage. Landing on the ground in front of her was a man wearing an old suit of armor. He looked to be nearing his fifties, and held a lance in his hands. So that's what it was – an enemy Servant had attacked, and Caster had deflected the attack, protecting his Master. ”Caster.” ”Indeed.” Caster materialized between the enemy Servant and his Master. He wore white robes, and a golden wreath on his head. The middle-aged Servant had a gentle look on his face, yet stern. For some reason, Jenna recalled hearing how in life, he was always cheerful and displayed great self-control. ”User of lance – you are Lancer, correct?” Caster said slowly, and less a question and more of a confirmation. The enemy Servant raised his arms into the air. ”Regrettable!” he exclaimed. ”Regrettable? I take it you would rather have been summoned as another class, then.” ”Indeed! For why am I not a Rider? Or even Saber? And my Master even had the stomach to suggest that a knight – no, kinght-errant - like me would be fitting as a Berserker! The thought!” ”What a loud, noisy Servant...” Jenna mumbled. ”Just kill him, Caster.” ”Very well.” Caster raised his right hand, and fired a blast of magic energy at Lancer. The latter, however, jumped out of the way. ”A-ha! A malicious wizard, just as I thought! Have at thee!” Lancer backflipped a few times onto the lawn of a nearby villa, and then stopped, looking at Caster expectingly. Caster looked back at Jenna, expressionless. ”...does he... want you to play along...?” ”The man is delusional. Almost as if a low level of Mad Enhancement had been placed on him.” ”I am not delusional!” Lancer shouted angrily. ”I shall slay you, evil wizard!” ”Woah, Caster, I think he's chosen you as his nemesis.” ”Regretfully.” ”Just kill him.” ”Agreed.” Caster started floating in the air, about ten meters above ground. Meanwhile, Jenna took cover behind some bushes in the forest on the other side of the road. Two magic circles appeared in the air above Caster. ”It is too bad I lived near the end of the Age of Gods, for else my magecraft would have been so much greater in power now that I have been summoned to act as Caster. I suppose such things cannot be helped.” ”Wile, evil wizard! There is no escape from a true knight-errant!” ”I aim not to escape.” Bolts of blinding light shot out from the circles, one from each. They struck the ground as Lancer did another ridiculous backflip to safety. Caster descended to one side of the large smouldering hole left in the lawn by his attack, and Lancer was positioned on the opposite end. ”Aha! And thus I have most swiftly and gracefully avoided death once more!” Jenna wanted all enemy servants defeated, of course, but she found herself really, really, wanting Lancer to perish, effective immediately. Suddenly, Lancer and Caster both quickly turned their heads towards the villa. They jumped back as two arrows shot from the direction of the house, one each landing where the two Servants had just been standing. ”Another Servant?!?” Jenna let out quietly. She held her breath, and it seemed the Servants did the same. After what felt like minutes (but probably was closer to a few seconds), Lancer raised his voice. ”Who dares interrupt a knight's duel?!? A friend of the wicked wizard?!?” Caster, on the other hand, had begun studying the arrow at his feet. Not touching it, of course – who knew what kind of curse or poison it could have been coated with. Silence. Then Lancer's loud voice again. ”I said, who dares-” he went quiet before his face twisted in dissapointment. ”If my master so says, then I shall obey. However!” He pointed at Caster. ”I shall slay you one day, evil wizard! I swear it, on my name as a gentleman!” With that, Lancer did another backflip, and faded away into spirit form. - - - - - - - The next morning, the basement in the Kendall house. Jenna, Caster, and Jennas older sister Helenah were sitting around a wooden table. The walls were covered with shelves containing bottles and potions of all kinds, and it was the room where Jenna had summoned Caster. Jenna always thought Helenah would be the one to participate in the war, but for some reason, the Grail had chosen Jenna. Helenah didn't seem to hold it against her, though – no, she seemed almost worried, but made no attempt to stop her younger sister. She had always been like that. ”I see. So after that, you escaped,” Helenah concluded. ”Or rather, made a tactical escape.” ”We didn't know our enemy. Most likely an Archer, I thought retreating and regrouping for gathering information would be best,” Jenna countered. Caster interjected. ”I have found something of interest.” ”Oh?” ”Two arrows were shot at the same time. One at me, and one at Lancer.” ”Yes. Firing two arrows at once is impressive, but since the enemy was most likely an Archer, well... not too surprising.” Caster shook his head slowly. ”No, that is not what I said.” ”Huh?” ”I took a look at the arrows shot at me and Lancer. They were different. By that I mean – they looked completely different, in shape, size, and craft.” ”So...” ”Could it have been two different bowmen?!?” It was Helenah who spoke up. Jenna gasped. ”What? But... well, that is a possibility, I guess... two bowmen Servants in the villa. Maybe two Masters joined forces already?” Helenah was deep in thought. ”No.” Caster interjected again. ”There were at least not two bowmen in that villa. No, the arrow shot at Lancer came from elsewhere.” Jenna looked at her Servant. ”But from where? It looked like they were both shot from the direction of the villa. Unless...” she blinked. ”From the roof?” ”Perhaps. No, most likely from further away. I believe the arrow shot at Lancer was shot over the villa, from a location in town. At least not from the immediate vicinity of the building.” ”A shot of that caliber most likely came from Archer... so whoever shot the arrow from the villa was either not an Archer-class Servant, or a really skilled, well, archer.” ”Master, what do you want to do about this?” Jenna thought for a moment, before looking at her sister. ”I... think I have an idea, if Helenah would agree to it.” ”Oh?” ”We're going to make contact with whoever is in the villa.” ”And if they refuse to talk to us?” Jenna stat quiet for a few seconds before answering. ”Then we kill them.”
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#02: Poison Heart Part 2
There were two people in the dimly lit study. On the floor, having fallen backwards, was Charlie Fairsworth. Her grandfather, Horace Fairsworth, had passed away not long ago. Charlie had lived with him in his old villa in Rosebridge after her parents death ten years prior. In Horace Fairsworth's will, the key to his study was to go to his only grandchild. And that is how Charlie wound up in her current situation. She had never been allowed inside the study. Naturally, she was curious. She found the room had bad lightning, and smelled of old books and incense. The windows were barred shut, and there was a dry feel to the air. As she explored the dimly lit room, she eventually noticed something on the mat in front of her grandfather's desk. Charlie couldn't help but recognize it – but she couldn't quite tell where she had seen it before. It was a circle of some sort, and in the middle was a letter. Charlie carefully walked over and picked it up. ”Charlie” was hastily scribbled on it. She furrowed her brow and opened it. Inside was a piece of paper. Or, to be precise, a notesheet. Charlie immdiately recognized them as notes for singing. As long as she had been living with her grandfather, he had made her take singing classes. She didn't particularly like singing, but she didn't dislike it either. It was more of a thing she just did sometimes. After staring at the lyrics for a while, she couldn't help herself. She opened her mouth without thinking, almost as if compelled by something, closed her eyes and sang. As soon as she started, she couldn't stop. There was something about the words, the lyrics, that compelled her to continue. ”You, seven heavens clad in three words of power Arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance” As she finished with those lines, Charlie opened her eyes. The room lit up from the center, and Charlie quickly realized it was the circle that was glowing with a bright red light. ”W-what?” She dropped the notesheet as she took a step back, but tripped and landed on her end. Heart beating at high speed, Charlie stared at the tall figure that had appeared in front of her in the circle, seemingly out of nowhere. It was a woman, easily 190cm in height. She had long, blonde hair, with pointy ears poking out from beneath it – almost like an elfs out of fantasy. She was dressed in a lon cloak, and Charlie could hint light leather armour beneath. While Charlie was speechless, the stranger was not. Instead, she studied her surroundings before looking at charlie with a slight smile, and spoke with soft, yet sharp words: ”Are you my Master?” Charlie blinked. ”H...huh?” The woman sighed. ”This is normally the part where you say yes. If you want to live, that is. Do you want to live?” Charlie blinked again. ”Y...yes?” ”Good. Then the contract is sealed.” The circle had stopped glowing, and the woman picked up the notesheet and studied it. ”What a strange way of summoning.” She then looked at Charlie again, and finally seemed to realize that the latter had no idea what was going in. Her face showed displeasure, maybe a bit annoyance. She then raised her right arm, and pointed at Charlie's right hand. Charlie looked, and gasped. ”W... what... what's this?!?” On the back of her right hand was what looked like a tattoo. Strange markings, swirling in a three-headed galaxy shape had appeared on her hand. ”Proof that you're my Master.” ”I asked you earlier if you wanted to live, but to think that you never noticed... have you never seen those before?” Charlie stood up on shaking legs, and shook her head. No, she had not. ”Not even a hint of them forming?” ”N-no. I've been looking at my hand every now and then for a couple of days, because I dropped a pot on it and a bruise was starting to form-” ”No bruise. It was the Command Seals forming, oh my dense Master.” ”Wh...” The woman was clearly getting annoyed, and somewhere deep insid, Charlie was as well. Confused and afraid, she asked. ”What is going on?” The woman seemed to consider her options for a few seconds before answering with a sigh. ”First things first. Introductions, that is. What is your name, Master?” ”C-Charlie Fairsworth.” The woman bowed nonchalantly. ”Well then, C-Charlie, you may call me Rider.” She sighed, yet again, and walked over to the desk. She wiped some dust off the chair behind it, and sat down. ”Now, then. Listen carefully, for both our sakes.” And Rider explained. She explained everything. ”The Holy Grail War” - A competition that decides the ownership of the Holy Grail through an intense battle royale. While there have been many conflicts over supposed Holy Grails in the past, this term refers to those specifically based around Masters, usually proficient magi (Charlie suspected that part was a jab at her), summoning Servants, Heroic Spirits brought forth as familiars, and meeting in battle until only one Master/Servant pair is left. Seven magi are chosen by the Grail as Masters and, with support from the Grail, allowed to summon seven Servants to do battle. The winning pair is supposed to be able to claim the Holy Grail and utilize it to grant a wish for each of them. ”So this is your later grandfather's study, then? Was he a magus?” Charlie swallowed. ”N-no... well, I knew he was interested in magecraft, but he never said anything about... but...” she scratched the back of her head, trying to remember. ”He never mentioned something like this... why would he prepare for summoning a Servant? And why leave a le-” Then it hit her. ”He wrote the summoning chant as song lyrics! He turned the summoning chant into a song using notesheets so that I would sing them! Oh that old-” Charlie punched a nearby bookshelf, cursing and holding her now aching hand as she avoided a falling book. Rider, however, was deep in thought. ”It seems he wished for you to participate in the war. Perhaps he felt he was running out of time, and couldn't do it himself? Either way, the Grail has already chosen you as a Master, so there's that.” Charlie walked over to the desk and slammed her palms onto the top of it. She cursed again, this time because of her aching palms. ”I-I don't want to participate in a war!” Rider glared at her Master. ”But you do. Otherwise, the Grail wouldn't have chosen you.” ”I don't- I don't understand, that's all! What's the deal with this Grail, even? Why do people want to kill each other over it?!?” Rider shrugged. ”There are as many reasons as there are Masters and Servants – we all want the Grail for one reason or another. But, answer me this, oh dense Master:” she raised a finger. ”Like I said, the winners get to make a wish. Is there truly nothing you desire? Nothing you want? The Grail is a wish-granting device. Surely there is something you want, more than nothing else.” Charlie was about to protest, but stopped as faces she remembered flashed before her mind. She shook her head, and walked over to the bookcase again, kicking it gently while sulking. Rider chuckled. ”Ufufufu. Good girl.” ”Stupid elf,” Charlie muttered to herself. ”I'm being tricked into doing something here, aren't I? Besides, what kind of name is ''Rider'', even?” ”It's not a name.” ”Huh?” Rider, clearly fed up with Charlie's ignorance, sighed again. Charlie was beginning to think that she would run out of air and faint if she kept at it. ”I'm your Servant, a Heroic Spirits brought forth as a familiar to serve you in this war. Weren't you listening? There are seven Master/Servant pairs in all. I'm a Heroic Spirit-” Rider paused for a moment - ”well, kind of – so that means my identity is beyond just ”Rider”.” Charlie stared at Rider, dumbstruck. ”So your name isn't Rider?” ”No. That's just my classification.” ”Oh. Okay.” ”Don't feign knowledge. Even if it's annoying, it's best for both of us if you're honest and just tell me you don't know.” ”Not if you're going to call me dense.” Rider ignored her. ”Seven Servants – seven Heroic Spirits summoned into seven containers. These containers are the seven classes. For example, I fit the criterias to be sumoned as a Rider, so I was summoned into that container. Although I could as well have been summoned as Archer, or maybe even Caster.” ”So it's like classes and jobs in games? Like Warrior, Monk, White Mage, etc?” ”Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker. Those are the seven containers – the seven classes. Those are also the seven Servants summoned for the Holy Grail War.” Charlie nodded. ”So, ehr, who are you? What's your name, I mean?” Rider seemed to consider something before answering. ”A Servant's True Name is dangerous to give out. For example, if I were a Heroic Spirit that died from poisoning, I would be exceptionally weak against poison.” ”Did you?” ”No.” ”Okay, I'm not sure I really get it, but you're like... someone from the past who's been brought back to life by the Holy Grail to participate in this war, and if you win you get like... a last dying wish? Or something like that?” ”Normally... yes. I'm not exactly like regular Servants.” ”What's that supposed to mean?” ”Never mind. I can't really tell you my name, since you're a novice. If I told you, and an enemy decided to read your mind, that would be bad for me. Well, both of us.” ”Well... I guess that's fair.” Charlie wasn't happy about it, but Rider was right. Charlie wasn't exactly a magus, let alone one who would be strong enough to resist having her mind read or being controlled. ”I can tell you one thing about myself, though,” Rider said, in a tone that made Charlie think she just remembered something. ”Someone else could as well have been summoned instead of me. And I don't mean another Heroic Spirit qualifying as Rider, I mean another Heroic Spirit qualifying as me. Or rather, my role.” ”I don't get it.” ”Good.” Charlie was about to open her mouth to protest further, but was interrupted by a loud noise that reminded her of an explosion. ”H-huh?” ”It came from outside,” Rider said calmly. Charlie was about to turn her heel and run out of the study, when Rider grabbed her arm. ”W-what? What is it?” ”Wait.” Rider seemed to listen for something. ”Your grandfather most certainly dabbled in magecraft without telling you.” ”What do you mean?” ”This room. This study. There are wards blocking magic detection set up all around it. If you leave the room, whatever made that noise might detect you. No – it most certainly will. And if it's a Servant or an enemy Master – which I wouldn't be surprised if it were – they'll want you dead.” ”B-but I can't just stay here!” ”Oh, you can, and you will.” Rider let go of Charlie, and walked over to one of the barred windows. ”Here. You can still see outside through the boards,” she said as she peaked through the boards. Heart in her throat, Charlie walked over to join her. She had the feeling – no, she knew – she had gotten herself into something way over her head. She peaked through the boards under Rider. ”Excuse, make room, please...” ”...” It had gotten dark outside. Charlie could see the stars, and the lights from downtown. Other than that, the only lights came from the old villa they were in, and the streetlights. ”I don't see anything.” ”Your eyesight isn't as good as mine, I guess. Don't feel bad about it though, like I said, I do qualify as an Archer as well.” Charlie grumbled and squinted her eyes. ”There, Master. On the lawn.” She looked where Rider told her to - on the villas large front lawn. There was a large, smoking hole in the ground, but Charlie realized that's not what Rider wanted her to look at. No, it was the two humanoid shapes standing on each side of the hole, facing each other. One of them was holding a long stick. Charlie squinted even more. No, it was a lance of some kind. ”What're-” ”Servants.” Charlie could feel her heart drop from her throat down into her stomach. ”Master.” Rider looked at Charlie. ”Your orders, please.”
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#01: Poison Heart Part 1
Life is an enigma. A question without an answer. All living things seek something – perhaps an answer to that question, and many others. Charlie Fairsworth was not an exception. As the 17-year old girl stood there in her late grandfather’s dimly lit study, she was incapable of moving. Perhaps it was the sheer force of the tall, slender figure in front of her – or perhaps an aftermath of the bright, glowing light that had filled the room just a second ago. The tall, feminine figure looked human (except for its pointy ears), but something about it (her?) made Charlie extremely uneasy. It was that unease that distracted the girl from the burning sensation on the back of her right hand. The tall woman looked down at Charlie with a slight smile, and spoke with soft, yet sharp words: ”Are you my master?” ------- Night. The blinders to the small office meeting room were closed, making the ceiling lamp the only source of light. The two magi inside weren’t on friendly terms, but neither were they enemies. They were allies. This didn’t mean they trusted each other, no – it was in their nature not to. Due to the nature of the war they participated in, however, they had deemed it necessary to cooperate for the unforseeable future. The middle-aged man wearing a business suit straightened his tie. ”Now then, according to the deal, I’ll reveal my servant’s class.” The old woman wearing a purple coat nodded sternly. ”Please do, and I will do the same, as per the agreement.” The man snapped his fingers, and a man appeared seemingly out of thin air – or rather, he became visible. The man looked to be nearing 50 in age, and was dressed in an old suit of armor, holding an equally old lance and an ancient shield. ”This is Lancer.” Lancer bowed. ”I am very delighted to make your acquaintance, señora.” The old woman seemed unfazed. ”Saber.” A young woman became visible next to her master. She had vivid black hair, and was dressed in what one would associate with the three musketeers. She took off her hat and bowed gracefully, but said nothing. The male master nodded. ”Saber and Lancer. Having two of the three knight classes will make things smoother.” ”The main issue is Archer”, the old woman noted. ”The third knight class, and the one with the most independance.” ”Not to mention Berserker. That’s going to be a tough one.” The old woman emoted for the first time – a smile. ”Oh, don’t worry about that, dear. Let me take care of Berserker.” ------- ”Master.” ”Yeah?” ”Are you sure you’re capable enough to win this war?” Two figures were sitting on the floor in an abandoned old house, the only source of warmth and light in the summer night a single candle on the floor between the two. One was Gerard, a 17-year old homeless young man, dressed in rags and a slightly too big old hat. The other was a man over two meters in height, dressed in animal pelts and wearing a stag mask. The upper part of the mask was part of a stag's skull – antlers and everything. A live owl was perched on top of his head, studying the teenager. Gerard swallowed and nodded in respone to his servant's question, before realizing he wasn't sure if the latter could see it in the dim candle light. ”Y-yeah,” he added quickly. ”Archer, I summoned you to get back at the magus who framed my family, and there's nothing worse than having the Holy Grail snagged from you by the homeless orphan of the magi you framed, right?” Archer was quiet for a moment, and because of his mask Gerard couldn't read his expression. ”Good enough,” the servant finally said with a booming, almost hollow voice. ”I would have been stronger if I had been summoned as a Rider, but me and my hounds will hunt down our enemies.” As if on queue, two black hounds emerged from the shadows behind Archer and lay down on each side of the servant. Gerard swallowed – he was getting excited about the Holy Grail War. ------- The half-naked man stared at the computer screen. He scratched his stubbled chin, thinking. Eventually, he asked the screen what was on his mind. ”Why was I summoned?” ------- From atop a hill a teenage man with green hair studied the town known as Rosebridge. The electric lights illuminated the town, yet the starry sky was clearly visible from his position atop the hill. He was deep in thought, reminicing. ”Seven servants and seven masters, killing each other...” He chuckled. ”Ufufufu... This is a whole different kind of killing game from what I am used to, that is for certain. Very well. Since I have been summoned into this world as a Ruler, I'll root out whatever inconsistencies and rule breakers there are out there.” He made a pause before continuing. ”After all, I am to serve the Holy Grail, yes?”
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