He was remembering things, little by little. It came to him in bits and pieces, odd flashes of insight and the soft whisper of distant memories slowly piecing together the story of who he was, and why he was here. The sensation was strange, and a bit alarming, as though he was staring through a stained-glass mosaic and trying to make out what was on the other side.
He peered at his master over the porcelain of his teacup, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he studied her profile in the soft sunlight that flowed throughout her study. Despite her calm repose, he could sense her agitation, a churning sensation of disappointment and nervousness that seemed to course through the very air they breathed.
She stared back at him, her gaze defiant, full of determination and resolve as it turned his half-curious look into a mental battle. He felt her presence through their link, challenging him, demanding that he recognize her.
Foolish, he thought, amused at her insecurities. Hadn't she already used a command seal to ensure his obedience? Was she really so apprehensive that she felt the need to prove herself again? Suddenly troubled, he broke their eye contact, closing his eyes as he took a sip from his teacup.
She was at the center of it, he was certain. At the center, or at least near it. Of this he was certain, though he had no idea where he had come by this knowledge. For now, bereft of his memories, though luckily not his skills or powers, he was forced to run on instinct, grasping at half-understood concepts and ideas in a desperate attempt to keep them both alive.
They had been lucky thus far. While only six of the seven servants had thus far been summoned, there was no guarantee that the others would wait before beginning their attack. In fact, he mused, it is very fortunate that we have not been attacked yet. However, he was not so foolish as to assume that things would remain as they were. Eventually, another servant would target them, and he was not entirely confident that he would be able to defend against them. While certain talents seemed too deeply ingrained in his psyche for even this magically-induced amnesia to remove, he was certain that his greater abilities were blocked off, unaccessible until he learned more about himself.
All the more reason to regain my memory, he thought darkly, and quickly. Yet, there was a more basic reason for his need to remember, a desire, a need that squirmed within him, eager to be sated. To have forgotten so much, to be so... incomplete, it grated at him in a way that was beyond his ability to reason.
There was some purpose for him being here, in this war... but what was it?
ôWhat would you do... if you could do it all again?ö
He blinked, starting slightly as the soft voice echoed through his brain. A memory? He wondered, and felt his heart race at the thought. It had been just a simple phrase, spoken in hesitant, broken tones, but suddenly he felt invigorated, energized, as though the answer to all of his questions had been laid out before him. Whatever the reason for his current existence, he realized, it began with that question.
Just another snippet from yours truly. I'm not entirely satisfied that I captured Archer's thought processes correctly, but since I don't understand Japanese well enough to play the game without the aid of a translator, I'm kind of winging it here. There will be more to this chapter, but it seemed like a natural breaking point, and I'm tired. I'll add more later. Tell me what you think.
He peered at his master over the porcelain of his teacup, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he studied her profile in the soft sunlight that flowed throughout her study. Despite her calm repose, he could sense her agitation, a churning sensation of disappointment and nervousness that seemed to course through the very air they breathed.
She stared back at him, her gaze defiant, full of determination and resolve as it turned his half-curious look into a mental battle. He felt her presence through their link, challenging him, demanding that he recognize her.
Foolish, he thought, amused at her insecurities. Hadn't she already used a command seal to ensure his obedience? Was she really so apprehensive that she felt the need to prove herself again? Suddenly troubled, he broke their eye contact, closing his eyes as he took a sip from his teacup.
She was at the center of it, he was certain. At the center, or at least near it. Of this he was certain, though he had no idea where he had come by this knowledge. For now, bereft of his memories, though luckily not his skills or powers, he was forced to run on instinct, grasping at half-understood concepts and ideas in a desperate attempt to keep them both alive.
They had been lucky thus far. While only six of the seven servants had thus far been summoned, there was no guarantee that the others would wait before beginning their attack. In fact, he mused, it is very fortunate that we have not been attacked yet. However, he was not so foolish as to assume that things would remain as they were. Eventually, another servant would target them, and he was not entirely confident that he would be able to defend against them. While certain talents seemed too deeply ingrained in his psyche for even this magically-induced amnesia to remove, he was certain that his greater abilities were blocked off, unaccessible until he learned more about himself.
All the more reason to regain my memory, he thought darkly, and quickly. Yet, there was a more basic reason for his need to remember, a desire, a need that squirmed within him, eager to be sated. To have forgotten so much, to be so... incomplete, it grated at him in a way that was beyond his ability to reason.
There was some purpose for him being here, in this war... but what was it?
ôWhat would you do... if you could do it all again?ö
He blinked, starting slightly as the soft voice echoed through his brain. A memory? He wondered, and felt his heart race at the thought. It had been just a simple phrase, spoken in hesitant, broken tones, but suddenly he felt invigorated, energized, as though the answer to all of his questions had been laid out before him. Whatever the reason for his current existence, he realized, it began with that question.
Just another snippet from yours truly. I'm not entirely satisfied that I captured Archer's thought processes correctly, but since I don't understand Japanese well enough to play the game without the aid of a translator, I'm kind of winging it here. There will be more to this chapter, but it seemed like a natural breaking point, and I'm tired. I'll add more later. Tell me what you think.
