Well, this has been on my hard drive for a couple of days now, but I hadn't had the time to clean it up properly until now. Chapter 1 follows and we are introduced to the actual plot for the first time ...
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Chapter I: Launching Armageddon
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Waking up is always harder after I've taken the pills. I come back slowly, groggily.
It's a good thing Sakura is away on a trip with the rest of the archery club or she'd ask questions. Questions I can't answer if I am to keep her respect.
After all, how many people would want to be friends with an unrepentant murderer?
I can take my time with breakfast. Fuji-nee is gone along with the club, so she's not here like she usually is.
She claims to come by each morning for breakfast. It's not a bad lie, I'm a rather good cook if I do say so myself ... Sakura is just as good and she does show up most mornings at my place, so the food is excellent. I know the truth, of course. I can't read minds, but I've known for a long time. Fuji-nee isn't subtle enough to pull one over me, she hasn't been for a long time.
She worries about me. I'm family and considering the environment she was raised in ... that is a very important thing. She thinks I've been through too much in my life and need looking out for.
If only she knew ...
I'm not in any particular hurry to get to school. To be honest, I'm enjoying the time I've freed up by leaving the archery club. It was good exercise, but my studies consume too much time ... and now I've got time for my first love, art. Sculpture, to be precise. The act of creation is something that attracts me.
I've had a few pieces displayed in the chambers of the Consilium. Anywhere else, you'd find people asking questions. Questions like: 'where did all that gold come from?' or 'could you explain the existence of a diamond the size and weight of a human being?'.
I suspect I won't have much time for that now that things are heating up. I've received reports of two other magi being involved already with more to come.
The rest of the day will likely be consumed by the summoning and tomorrow I'll need to drop by the Ryuudou temple. It's fortunate that the city's strongest, untainted, hallow lies in a temple. It makes it easier to access, plus, I like the place. It's ... calming.
I don't have time for much other than breakfast, the pills have thrown my usual schedule into disarray, so I'm forced to leave without the planned revision of the ritual. I toy with the idea of taking the notes to school, but Fuji-nee won't be present today and that means I might be caught. Something tells me getting caught with notes on summoning rituals involving human blood might cause trouble for me, so the notes have to stay behind, hidden on the other side of the Gauntlet.
It's the safest place I can think of.
The trip to school doesn't take all that long, but the rest of the day seems to take forever. It's the excitement and the anticipation. The feeling is instinctive, something every awakened feels when studying the Art. I don't often get a chance to revel in it, most often my research is used to harm others and manipulate them.
Even this ritual has that express purpose, but I can put that concern away for the time being. No need to act too quickly, more information is needed. A good assassin can't operate on bad intel and I am a good assassin, no matter how much I may despise that fact.
I find I can't maintain concentration during the day. I keep doodling ritual elements on the margins of my notebooks, I just can't help it. If it works out right, and it should, then I'll have a spirit as a familiar. And not just any spirit, the personification of human belief in heroes.
Well, one hero in particular. I don't know which one it will be, as my research into the dagger recovered hasn't yielded any results yet, but a spirit of that level of power ... it will be a familiar few would be able to match.
So, naturally, it's hard to stay calm.
Lunch break comes as a welcome relief, so I quickly make my way to the student council room. Not being a member, I'm not really supposed to be there, but Issei is the only one to use it during lunch break and, despite rumours to the contrary, I do like a conversation.
I suppose it's a fear of silence. My awakening wasn't traumatic, like some I've seen and heard about, but it still left scars. The moment of silence in the middle of an all-consuming fire, people's mouths open in an soundless scream ... I won't admit it openly, but I don't like silence. It reminds me of that moment, of the inevitable. Of death.
So, yeah, I usually strike up a conversation with Issei or Fuji-nee.
Issei has arrived before me, as he always does. Sometimes I suspect he's secretly a mage and just portals to the room while no-one's looking.
He fixes me with a look after adjusting his glasses, "Emiya, you're still coming to the temple tomorrow?"
That's Iseei for you, he can be refreshingly direct. A welcome change from the byzantine intrigues of awakened society.
I'd developed a habit early on to help out at the Ryuudou temple whenever I could. I will admit to having an ulterior motive, the temple sits on top of a hallow. As it is, I usually drop by once a week, sometimes more often to help out in little ways. I've got a gift for fixing things and, more than that, I'm willing to get my hands dirty to help out, so I'm always welcome there.
I nod in response, "Yeah, Sakura and Fuji-nee will only be coming tomorrow evening and the house gets a bit quiet with just me there."
Issei is the only person who knows I don't like the silence. He knows nothing of my existence as a mage and an assassin, of course. I like it that way, it allows me to be a normal person around him, to be Emiya Shirou, student, teen-aged boy with no concerns or duties beyond the immediate.
Issei's expression is inscrutable as he replies, "You never know how much you take something for granted until it's gone, even if temporarily."
He's practicing to be a priest, again. As his friend, I'm regularly the subject. Of course, this little non-sequitur has a deeper meaning. Issei had been trying to hook me and Sakura up for, oh, half a year now, in his own subtle way. He's not subtle enough, I was trained to operate around magi, many of whom can run rings around you while asleep.
Still, I've yet to find a way to let her down gently. I'm a Guardian of the Veil, possessing a thousand faces, none of my own. She really does deserve better.
I make a vague, philosophical reply to Issei's statement, feigning ignorance of the subtext. Emiya Shirou is supposed to be a bit thick regarding that and I play the part perfectly. The conversation goes on from there, not touching upon the sensitive topics.
The conversation ventures into philosphy. I've never held much of an interest in the subject, but every mage is taught it and I do enjoy a good verbal spar. It keeps the mind sharp.
All too soon, the lunch break ends and I'm forced back into class. I've got Kuzuki-sensei and while I pity the man for what he was raised to be and respect him for defying his fate, I have nothing but contempt for the subject he teaches.
History is written by the victors, but it is also written by the bystanders. Pentacle records are very comprehensive and, more importantly, completely intact, stretching back thousands of years. The history taught in schools is ridiculously slanted in favour of certain ideas and groups, not to mention that half of it is based on guesswork.
At least I can put my mind off the ritual for the duration of the man's lectures as I force myself to correct the lecture on the fly. It's something of a challenge and takes all of my attention as I'm worked from half-remembered sources and books I've only glanced through, but that's a good thing, really. At least I'm not thinking about the ritual.
The rest of the day isn't as amusing. I catch myself three times reciting the incantation for the ritual under my breath. I get a couple of odd looks from those seated near me, prompting a blush and a muttered apology.
Finally, school ends and I'm free to go home. I'll have the usual company tomorrow evening, so the ritual has to be done before then as I'll need time to produce the necessary cover story.
Once I'm home, I eat a quick meal, then retreat to my workshop, the shed. It's well warded and isolated. Not to mention that it's easier to activate my home's protections from there and, besides, I have a couple of surprises stored there in case things do go wrong. Being an assassin and spy tends to foster at least some paranoia, more than is usual among magi anyway.
It doesn't take long to set up the summoning circle. It's a basic skill for a mage and I've used ritual circles before, even made my own. There are differences, of course, the circles I've done are usually tied to death, rebirth and the soul, this one is a summoning circle, but the basics are the same, the motions are the same. I use sanskrit for the symbols.
While Inidia has long since become contested grounds between Pentacle and Servants, one of the old mottos of the Diamond was in sanskrit.
'Yato Dharmastato Jaya' ... where there is Righteousness, there shall be Victory. It's long outdated, but I'm feeling more than a bit nostalgic and it's a good motto to keep in mind during this war. My cause, the Pentacle's cause, is just. I'm not foolish enough to think that would help in and of itself, I've ended many just causes and righteous people, but faith is important.
Not to mention that using the High Tongue is very risky. I might get a hero, I might get a deity or I might just summon the Abyss and doom the entire world.
The Grail is supposed to do most of the work anyway, if the Divine Thread is correct.
Nevertheless, I spend a couple of minutes making sure the circle doesn't contain mistakes. Specters of the dead aren't dangerous, a spirit is very much so.
The circle is good enough, so I activate the mana sinks. That's the time limit, the seals will empty in three minutes, I have that much to do the summoning. I've added only a bit of my own mana to them, enough to identify me as the summoner, not enough to twist the ritual into something else.
Two minutes, fifty seconds left. I start the incantation written in the magus' notes. Fortunately, the incantation was in latin, not greek, or there might have been trouble.
Ye first, O silver, O iron
O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract
Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg
Let the descending winds be as a wall
Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve.
Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut.
Five perfections for each repetition.
And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead!
Set.
Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade.
If thou submittest to the call of the Holy Grail and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond.
I make my oath here.
I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens.
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.
Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words,
come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance!
There's a flash of light as I finish, blinding me temporarily, then ... the feeling of something tasting my magic, my soul. It's a terrifying thing ... like I've been violated, none of my protections and shields even impeded the probe. I can feel a foreign presence seeking purchase and taking hold.
My right hand burns.
I have to blink a few times before I can see again.
There's a person standing in front of me. It's a woman in dark robes, purple and black. She's wearing a hood, hiding her features. I can spot a strand of blue hair peeking out from under the hood. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, heroes are supposed to be larger than life. Them having plain features would be surprising.
And just like I'm watching her, she's watching me. She's also the first to speak.
"I ask of you, are you my Master?"
It sounds like part of the ritual, but the notes didn't cover that part. I'm forced to wing it.
"I'm the summoner, yes."
There's some tightening in the facial muscles that I can see. If I were forced to guess, I'd say she was frowning. Maybe I used the wrong words?
Still after a moment she nods and then, finally, identifies herself, "I am Medea, the Servant Caster and I will fight for you in this Grail War."
To be honest, I only have a vague recollection of the name Medea. I barely recall some greek tragedy I'd watched in Majilis al Jinn during a conference. Some kind of witch who went on a killing spree? Hardly sounds like a hero, but I don't exactly hold the moral high ground myself.
How fitting, a murderer for a murderer.
I identify myself to her, "I am Emiya Shirou, a Guardian of the Veil. I have been tasked by the exile orders to destroy the Holy Grail and end these wars."
It's surprisingly hard to read someone wearing a hood and voluminous robes like Medea is. I think she's frowning again, but I can't be certain.
"Revealing that information wasn't very wise, master. Fortunately, I am not interested in the Grail. Another servant might have tried to kill you for that."
I'm surprised, the notes indicated I would end up with a slave, bound to my will ... it seems that the notes were incorrect, "You're more independent than the notes indicate."
"Notes? May I see them?"
"Of course."
She takes a minute leafing through the notes and I find myself curious as to how an ancient Hellene can speak Japanese and read English, she's not even supposed to know of Japan's existence and English only came into being more than a thousand years after Hellene city-states ended. One can only assume that it's a function of the Grail, but that makes the damned thing ridiculously complex.
I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to deconstruct the ritual. Destroy it, yes, deconstruct it properly ... I'm not so certain.
Finally, Medea returns the notes, "The ritual is correct, but most of the details regarding servants aren't. Any orders you give can be defied, except those enforced by the command spells you carry. Even then, the more precise the order, the more difficult it is to resist. If you issued a general one with a command spell, like: 'obey me', I'd feel compelled to do so, but I would be able to resist."
I ... hadn't known that, "Oh. Then I suppose this is a partnership, then." That means loyalty is paramount, if I can't trust her, we won't be able to work together, so I have to make a fair offer, "But if we win, I get what I want, the Grail destroyed. What do you want?"
The answer comes instantly, "A life, here, in the living world."
That's something of a surprise and something that warrants further investigation, later ... for now, I smile and readily agree, "Now that is something the Pentacle can help you with. So, in exchange for you helping me with the destruction of the Grail, the Pentacle provides you with everything you'll need to make a life for yourself in this world."
She seems confused, I suppose I agreed to the deal too quickly, not even trying to bargain, "Why would you do something like that for me?"
I'm not sure I can explain why, she really didn't ask for much and the Pentacle regularly creates new lives for it's members and allies, "Why not? It's within our capabilities. If you'd prefer to continue our discussion somewhere more comfortable?"
She seems to be digesting the information and follows quietly as I lead her across the yard. Being in front, I can't exactly tell what Medea's doing behind me. I'm not worried about being stabbed in the back, not here, not in my seat of power.
"How defended is this house?"
The question is abrupt, but reasonable, I suppose, we'll be working together, "Magically? About as good as it can be. The more powerful defences need to be specifically activated to work, though."
"They drain too much power?"
Again, a fairly logical assumption, the local lay line is sufficient to power the defences, if only barely, but I'm a wielder of the Spirit Arcanum, "Well, no. Guardian spirits can only manifest for brief periods and the ones I'm using are ... dangerous." Explaining the nature of spirits would take a long time, so I try to keep my answer as simple as possible, "Manifestations of human fear of untamed nature. Not powerful individually, but as a group, they're a danger to all but extremely powerful beings. I can give you a basic scheme of the wards to look through later."
I cut off further inquiries by briefly explaining the layout of the house as we enter. There's enough rooms here to house half a dozen people. Still, space where magic can be practiced is at a premium, so I give Medea directions to the guest room. It's somewhat isolated from the rest of the house, but it also offers the necessary privacy for mage work.
Not to mention that any guests I received would be sleeping there and, as far as anyone else will know, that's all Medea will be. An old acquaintance of my father's, actually. He had too many to count and a lot of them were paranoid people. In case anyone asks, Raiga will readily identify Medea as one of father's friends.
I wouldn't have gotten half as far as I have without the help of Fujimura Raiga.
As we reach the sitting room, I motion towards the table, "Please, make yourself comfortable." Before taking a seat myself, I ask, "Would you like some tea?"
"Please."
I admit, I don't often get a chance to show off. Magic is kept such a closely guarded secret that even those that do know of my status have never seen me use it, excepting other awakened. I suppose my urge isn't as much to show off, my abilities don't exactly come off as highly visible or overly impressive, but to show an artist's pride in his craft.
The act of creation is a complex one. The image I need to force an object into being must be perfect and the more complex the object, the more skill is required to craft it.
Therefore, summoning something as simple as a tea set and tea, at just the right temperature, is a lot harder than it may seem, no matter how small the objects in question may be.
I can cheat, to a certain extent. I can make copies, specific patterns I have ... stored for lack of a better word. It's easier than creating an entirely new template from scratch. Because of this ability, I can replicate an assault rifle, but I can't create my own as I don't know how.
Medea seems mildly impressed by the act, or perhaps the appearance of the tea set. Each creation must be unique and a work of art. I would allow nothing less, though I have moved away from the rule at times, when I'm creating something in a hurry.
It's something of a waste, too. I already have a dozen sets in storage and every time I create a new one, I'm forced to throw one of the old ones out to save space. One year I'd given out a tea set to everyone I knew and I still had quite a few to spare.
The tea is excellent. I should know, it's a precise copy of the best tea I've had, molecule for molecule. Oddly, I had it in Vladivostok, while I was mediating a few issues between two local cabals. As an outsider I was deemed neutral enough. The dispute was relatively dull, the vacation was ... dare I say it, fun.
At least there wasn't any shooting, stabbing or attempted dismemberment using abominations of nature and magic. I still carry the scars from the time I actually did go up against abominations of nature and magic. Nearly lost my arm to one of the beasts.
As far as everyone else is concerned, I suffered an accident while being my helpful self. A crate fell on my shoulder. If anyone has noticed that the scars could only be made if the crate had claws, they've not mentioned it so far. I kept the scars, it would be hard to explain their absence ... and I kept them as a reminder never to be that stupid again.
I am the first to speak, "We will need to create an identity for you. For the time being, I believe I can produce a believable facsimile of a Turkish passport that should ward off suspicion until proper documents can be made."
"Turkish?"
Right, I'd forgotten ... at best, Medea's knowledge is two thousand years out of date, if not more, "A nomadic people who started settling Anatolia a thousand years ago. There's still a Greek minority there. It'll rise fewer questions than having two Greeks in the city at the same time, especially with one of them dead."
"I can become incorporeal at will, master. There's no need for a cover story."
I smile as my mind works through the possibilities. It's not a surprise, really. As a spirit, it's only natural, but it's nevertheless exceptionally useful. Caster is many times more powerful than the guardian spirits I've bound to my focus.
Still, it's apparent she knows nothing about the proper way to play the game, "The key in this war is to appear first and foremost as someone who isn't involved in the first place. No-one involved in the war would openly announce the presence and identity of their servant."
She seems surprised, "Hiding in plain sight?"
"Exactly. We are going to flaunt your presence ..." I trail off, I'm not certain what she'd find agreeable, so best let her make her own decisions about that
Medea seems to be thinking my statement over, "Servants can sense each other, but I believe I can cloak our presence to other mages."
"Excellent. Tomorrow evening I'll introduce you to my contacts, they'll provide the cover story. We'll be going downtown for dinner, officially to welcome a friend of mine home and celebrate her achievement during a competition." I'm running a quick calculation in my head, I've got a lot to do and only limited time to do it tomorrow, "I'll only return home late in the afternoon, so you can use that time to get acquainted with the house and erect any protections you feel necessary. In addition, there's quite a few books dealing on a variety of subjects. I'd recommend the ones on recent history, in case anyone asks questions."
Of course, I'm not being entirely honest here. I have ulterior motives for the visit, ones that Medea has no need to know. To be honest, I have ... suspicions. The Divine Thread's recent reports on every potential participant in the Grail War have been troubling and I have no-one to blame but myself for missing the signs ... taught to be the perfect spy and, as a result, I've been so determined to find a refuge from my tasks that I've blinded myself to the people around me.
Invading the privacy of one's thoughts is frowned upon by the awakened, but I need confirmation. No matter how intangible such proof may be, it will suffice. A favour of this magnitude will use up most of my credit with Yuudai-san, but it's a price I'm willing to pay. I just hope the suspicions in the reports are unfounded.
We finish up the tea and I erase the set from existence. I'll refill my mana store tomorrow anyway, I can flaunt a bit. Afterward, I get Medea a couple of books on topics she expressed interest in and the schematics for the house defences. The schematics, if they can be called as such, are mostly the initial sketches that the defences were erected by, but do give a good account of their capabilities.
I don't really need them, the defences are tied to my soulstone, so I receive constant reports through that, but during the planning stage a basic schematic is necessary.
After that I excuse myself politely and go to my room. I've begun noticing a drain from Medea's continued presence and it might turn into a problem. Best option for now is to recover what mana I can through meditation each evening. The drain takes barely a fraction of my reserves but it's constant and I'm reasonably certain consumption will go up if my Servant actually uses her abilities.
As I sit down to meditate, I make a mental note to look into methods of moving Medea's soul into a proper, physical body to save energy. I'll need to talk with Yuudai-san about that ...
It seems I will be owing Fukui Yuudai a lot of favours once the Grail War is over. Most powerful cook in the city indeed.
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Now, for the usual post-fic explanations. The Armageddon referred to in the chapter title is, again, a chess term. In this case, a type of game where the black player only needs to tie in order to score a victory while the white player needs to win outright. It's a reference to the Pentacle's goals here, all they need to do really is stop the War from ending. Victory is irrelevant.
Majilis al Jinn is a cave in the Middle East, or, rather, a large chamber in a cave complex and yes, it's a real place. Literally, the name means 'gathering place of the Jinni' with Jinni in Arabic mythology being one of Alah's creations, like men possessed of free will but created from smokeless fire (that is, energy). The Awakened in this world appropriated the title for themselves so that they can feel special.
Of course, the Majilis al Jinn referred to by the Awakened isn't in the Middle East, it's underneath Geneva, but that's nitpicking.
The Diamond, for those that don't know is the older version of the Pentacle, as the Pentacle only came about in the 20th century with the forming of the Free Council and it's addition to the old organization.
