#aaaaaaHHHHH i’m going to pass this ask on this time so brace yourself!!!!!!!

[fateascensor]

Cycle I - Aὐτοκράτωρ (4)

Vytauto Didžiojo Karo Muziejus, Kaunas, Lithuania. November 11, evening.

Reining in his horse and stopping in the rooftop of a building close to the museum, Rider got down from it and screamed in frustration at his master's protest. "Where are we going?!" and "Rider, stop!" were words he had heard enough of today for his first life and his entire time as a servant, however long this one might be. He turned back as his master got down. Guillaume was taller than him, but that wouldn't matter to a servant. He grabbed his master by the collar and lifted him from the ground. "Rider, what are you doing, don't make me-" Rider threw him across the rooftop. "You already used a command spell, don't you remember?! Do you want to run out of them?!" Shouting, he walked up to his master, who was trying to get up, and slapped his face, throwing him down again. "You are a coward! An unworthy subject! Worse! An unworthy soldier! Weakling! Coward! My Guard wouldn't be able to clean your blood off their axes because you would die just from hearing their battlecry! You can do whatever you want in your cowardice after we get the grail, but do not dare cower before the enemy like that again!" His master was reduced to tears, looking from Rider to his hand, to the ground, he cried. Rider sighed and helped him up. "Look at me, Master." Taking a few steps back to give his master breathing room, he grabbed his mantle and threw it on the floor. He took his crown and did the same. "I was born to this. To the court, to the banquets, to the sweet life of an Emperor. Do you see my mantle? I was born in the purple, but my life was and is that of a soldier. You can insult my rule, but do not insult my prowess. I understand there are great fears in a man's life, Master, but there are times in which we must rise to face them."

"If you choose not to face your fears in your life, then it is your problem, I won't, as Emperor, tell you to do so. But in battle we are soldiers of my army, and you will behave as such and you will not fear the enemy but strike fear in them, whatever they might be." He took out his sword. "Come here, Master. Hold this weapon." Hubert approached cautiously. He had stopped crying, but he was still trembling a little. He took the sword by the handle and seemed surprised by its weight. "Do you like the feeling of a sword in your hand?" His master shook his head once. It seemed he couldn't even muster a whisper. "It matters not. Not all soldiers enter the fray for their love of weaponry or battle. Starting tomorrow we will train like soldiers. We can take a sword from the museum for you. Your magic is no good if you can't use it. Your familiars couldn't approach this museum and you say the fool inside isn't even a proper mage." His master gulped, but nodded. Rider turned his back to him and closed his eyes, touching his face in thought. "You mustn't forget that I am not only my bellic accomplishments, Master, I was the Emperor, I, Basileios II, was the Aὐτοκράτωρ, and one of the best, one of the few not to disgrace the Empire. I will command you as a soldier, and you will obey, but I shall listen to your counsel." Rider faced his master and motioned for him to speak.

"I... I'm s-sorry, Rider... For m-my cowardice." His master was trying to stop shaking. The relationship between master and servant had effectively been reversed, to Guillaume's shock. He straightened up a bit, but still shifted his look away from Rider, darting across the rooftop and the buildings behind his servant. "You want to fight the magus in the museum, right? Let's go. I'll train with you. I'll be your soldier. I'm sorry... I... I will kill him for you if that's what you want. Just... We need to cooperate, if we want to get the grail..." Rider sighed. Magi were all the same, always this way, afraid of being put on the spot, too scared of losing. "That'll have to do. It's alright, Master, I don't expect you to meekly obey my every command and run into the museum with a sword to stab the man inside it. You need time to recover, so stay here. I'll go in and get rid of him. I'll get in from above so you can send a familiar to watch from the distance if you wish. I don't expect it to take too long." Rider gave a curt laugh and patted his master on the back, taking back his sword and heading to his horse, but his master held him. "I... Want to come, Rider. Shouldn't a soldier pick his own sword?" Rider looked back at him and smiled. "No, not really, but if you are ready to show some fighting spirit, hop on."

His collection was now complete. After a few visits to the university and one prominent private collector, Ognyan was satisfied. He had visited the city of Kaunas once before, and the museum was, for him, its crown jewel, and that's where he gathered his treasures, adding to the museum's already vast assortment of items associated with its namesake, Vytautas the Great. As soon as he knew there was to be a war in Kaunas, Ognyan Petrov Kaloyanchev knew he'd win. He didn't care whether it was a real Holy Grail War or a false one, nor did he have a particular wish for the grail, but he was determined to win, driven by his spite towards the Magic Association. He needed to prove how useless the Clock Tower was. Maybe he should've gone to one of the other branches, but his father never wanted him mingling with the northerners or the alchemists, so he was sent off. The first of his line to go, in fact. He hated it, but his grandfather had passed away and his father didn't know what he was doing. In the Tower, Ognyan liked to think he had not learned anything besides irrelevant theory. He didn't want to know everything about how magic worked, about how prana behaved, about the root. Everything he knew, his grandfather had taught him, in the traditional ways. He knew how to cast his spells and he knew the mythical lore behind it, and that's all that mattered.

However, without his time at the Tower, Ognyan would never had known about the Grail War, or servants, or ley lines, and he might never had visited Kaunas. The war museum was his favourite place in the city not just because of its historic importance, but also because it was built over a ley line. His grandfather had taught him about magical places where your magecraft would be stronger, but he couldn't explain why it happened. Now Ognyan knew how to best use his magical energy, and planned on drawing from the multiple catalysts and the ley line to summon his servant. In the Holy Grail War, seven servants, heroic spirits drawn from the Throne of Heroes in many forms and placed, through the Holy Grail, into containers for seven classes. If a servant in summoned in their homeland or in a place where their legend had more impact, they'll be able to get to levels of strength close to the original spirits in the Throne of Heroes, for the servants are just representations of these. Ognyan's plan was to summon a Rider class servant very particular to the land, in the very museum named after him, within the country in which he is revered as a national hero: Grand Duke Vytautas the Great of Lithuania.

The museums itself might be catalyst enough, but Ognyan had to be sure no one else would summon this servant, of course. Those Magic Association dogs will bring their own catalysts, but someone else could try to summon a hero of the land. He just had to do it first, and on that night, he made his summoning circle.He had no intention to talk to the supervisor; the Holy Church was no better than the Association. He would summon his servant, the strongest possible in this land, and he would destroy all other participants. He would speak to the supervisor after winning, just to get the Grail, and then he would leave that dog and his Grail too. He just had to win.

Looking at his beautiful collection of catalysts and his summoning circle, Ognyan grinned. This war would be a piece of cake. Then a horse crashed through the roof.

In truth, Guillaume Hubert was still numb from being berated and humiliated by his servant. He thought about his tears and about his phobia. He thought about what it meant to be a soldier for his servant. He was still afraid, but he decided to fight. Rider was right, if they were to win the grail, he had to fihgt. Anything that came. He would face his fears. But wait... Did Rider really mean this when he said he'd enter from above? He had hopped onto the back of his servant's mount and was holding on tight as it galloped across the rooftop. This building faced the back of the museum, and it seemed like that was really the plan. The horse leapt across the sky. In fact, Hubert hadn't thought of how they'd wound up in that rooftop, but for a servant, crossing this distance was nothing, much less for a Rider in his mount. Hubert held his scream and braced for impact. Like a missile the horse targeted the area they'd thought the potential master was in. And it crashed through.

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" He could not stifle that scream as debris flew all over and they fell. Looking down he saw a scruffy man looking up confused from his summoning circle. He was about to summon his servant and they needed to be fast. The horse crashed still standing across from the man, on the other side of the magic circle. The man got up and opened his arms with a grin. "Ha! I didn't even have to finish! Wait..."

"Master, go find yourself a sword." Rider asked and he got down from the horse and ran to the nearest sword. The hall was full of assorted relics belonging to the namesake of the museum, which that man intended to use as catalysts. He was probably crazy, he couldn't possibly have expected to go unnoticed. Hubert grabbed a shortsword adorned with jewels and lifted it with both hands. He could use this. It looked well maintained and it was polished, maybe it was a replica. He turned to face their enemy.

"You're not my servant! How dare you disrupt my summoning, dog of the magic association!? Dori v ada, pederast!" The man screamed at them, and Rider charged. His paramerion aimed at the man's chest, it should cut through with the force of the charge and the sheer magical power. But, as fast as the servant was, his sword didn't reach that man. After screaming his insults, he beat his fist against his chest, in what seemed to Hubert a tribal, feral motion, but he hadn't seen what was on the man's chest. A pendant. Gem magic, then. The pendant exploded and waves of fire were sent across the hall in all directions. Hubert moved to hide behind a pillar, but noticed the pillars were all falling. The man was bringing the room down with him. That explosion and that fire. There could be no way he had survived, but he was trying to kill a master with him, at least. That pendant stored enough mana to destroy the entire museum, so he couldn't just run now. Hubert turned to the flames and held up his sword. It felt heavy, and the room was hot. He screamed at the flames and focused his magical energy on the sword. Maybe he could blast them away.

"You idiot!" Hubert felt himself be pulled up. His servant had grabbed him from behind and thrown him on the horse. As a typhoon of flames engulfed the museum, Rider took them out through the roof and landed safely in the yard that surrounded the museum. "My words haven't been misinterpreted this horribly since I took down Bardas' rebellion!" His words were tough, but, this time, Rider was smiling. "Maybe you can make a good soldier after all!" Hubert laughed, but he remembered something that brought him out of his moment. This was the consequence of holding a ritual in such a large city. The agents of the magic association were ready to cover the participation of magi in the fire, but a succession of disasters was sure to befall Kaunas before the war was over. It would be suspicious. Not enough to hinder the cover up, but suspicious. "We need to check the damage before we go, Rider." His servant nodded and rode them back to the center of the blast.

"Govno, govno, govno!" He had to use his trump card on the first encounter with a servant and now grandpa's pendant was gone, along with all his catalysts. Charred. Burnt. By his little flame. Of course, he was unscathed, the rune that his grandfather had carved in his back guaranteed so. His very identity guaranteed so. Fire was his blood, and his body, and his mind. Thanks to grandpa. Ognyan sighed and searched for his pack of cigarettes in his jacket, but before he could take it out, he froze. The rubble was moving. The explosion and fire had left the museum with a huge hole in the middle, no walls, no roof, only rubble. His catalysts were burnt and buried and he didn't finish his summoning ritual. Maybe he really didn't have to. Out of the rubble came a man. He shook off the rubble and laughed. "Now this! This is a grand summoning! What's all this destruction? Oh, you, come here, are you my Master?"

The man had a prominent, aquiline nose, and an equally prominent beard, and upon his head was an open helm, coated with gold and with a black feather pointing up from it. His piercing eyes reflected the fire and for a moment they seemed to be red. Maybe that would fit. It would even be a good contrast to that other servant's blue irises. But Ognyan's own eyes couldn't linger on the man's face. They were drawn elsewhere. On the man's belt, there was a human skull. He remembered his childhood and the stories his grandfather would tell him, of a time long gone. He blinked. The man wasn't wearing armor, but a deep red caftan brocaded in purple and yellow. On the other side of his belt, some sort of mace of morningstar. Standing atop the rubble was his servant. Not Vytautas the Great, not a servant related to this land, but one related to his own. He thanked grandpa again, for teaching him of his people.

"So, are you? We don't have all day." The servant brought him out of his blissful thoughts. "I am, my Khan." He laughed. His servant laughed as well. "How pleasant! You are of my people! Of course you are! And you're fighting my enemies! That's the only reason I answered your summons, but I must admit, that offer of jewelry was fit for my Empire. Now, Master, here they come, so bask in the glory of my abilities! Bask in the glory of Servant Avenger, the Emperor of Bulgars, Krum of house Dulo, as I slay another roman on this day!" And they were coming. That Rider came with his master mounted behind him, and the master seemed shocked to see him there. He knew they had survived, but the reverse was not true. Amusing. Truly amusing. Ognyan took the pack out of his jacket and grabbed himself a cigarette. Lighting it with his finger, he put the cigarette in his mouth and breathed. "No. Let us leave this battle for another day, my Khan. I've already used my trump card, and if that's a greek general, we can make him angry just by escaping. You know more than anyone, Avenger, that wars don't end in a single battle." The word Avenger felt strange in his mouth. That was a special class, but he didn’t really care. He had summoned a great servant, and he was happy they could crush the magic association together.

Avenger laughed heartily and put his hands on his waist. "Very well, Master, we can leave them to quarrel by themselves and reap the fruits later to achieve victory. Let's go." Ognyan moved towards his servant and with a gesture sent a new wave of flames upon the rubble, obscuring the field of vision with fire and dust. The other servant could still sense his, but the master would be unable to see a thing, and that was their objective. They heard the master pleading for his servant to stop and think, and the servant shouting, but all Ognyan could make out of it was curses. Nodding to his servant, they ran before the other one could pursue.

#cycle I #day one #I actually wrote part of this like 6 months ago #yes the name change is intentional #no it has no function it's just me being extra #yes it'll happen every cycle