Fate/Stay Royal

Most said that betrayal tasted bitter and dark. Atop that roof, laying in a puddle of her own blood, the Enforcer known as Bazett Fraga McRemitz might have agreed with that assessment. In so much as betrayal could have a taste, it was bitter and stuck around entirely too long for her liking.

Her body was ravaged and nearly lifeless. The Bajiquan that was the speciality of Kotomine Kirei had ripped into her body and destroyed several vital organs well before he had contented himself in tearing off her left arm. The precious command spell that had been her link to Lancer was gone. Now, she was simply a corpse on the roof, and no matter how strong she was, nor how strong the Rune of Resurrection she had inscribed was, she would simply die without assistance. The Rune of Resurrection woven into her body was not a perfect method of survival. Really, it was a form of limited living death; her body could keep moving beyond the limits of its mortal coil so long as she could keep that rune burning, but without fixing the damage, she would die.

Fixing the damage would be easy if she wasn't in such a sorry state to begin with. How long had it taken her to even start moving again? One hour? Two? Precious time lost because her body was too brutally battered to be able to move from its shocked state.

Slowly, too slowly in her opinion, she dipped her right hand into the puddle of blood, wetting it like one might a brush, and drew Ansuz into the ground beside her. Content it at least looked right, she grit her teeth, breathed in deep, and grasped her hand to the stump that had been her left arm.

The burning pain of seared, cooking flesh was excruciating, but at least that was one way in which she could no longer expire. What vital blood was still inside her would remain as such.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." The words came out as a hiss, as she started to force her battered corpse to move. Her ribs did not want to cooperate. She was probably facing at least two broken ribs. Her legs were far more cooperative, though the pain in the extremes of her left foot indicated a broken two or two. "Stupid Lancer."

It had not, strictly, been Lancer's fault. He hadn't even finished materialising before Kirei had attacked. Still, he had done nothing to help her, either. Cu Chulainn or not, he was now on her shit list too. There would be a reckoning or two for that one later. Even so, if Bazett survived this, then she was never leaving her room without Fragarach( Strikes Last but Cuts First) ever again.

No, survival was likely wishful thinking. She wasn't going to make it from this roof at the speed she was moving. She could feel the dizziness already, and her Magic Circuit was haywire from the internal damage. No wonder Ansuz had burned far more of her side then she had intended. Control was lost.

Her options were extremely limited. They all relied on assistance or a miracle. She had neither. Just pockets of spare catalysts in case no one had answered her call and a prayer. Her jacket was torn where Kirei had struck her. There was very little point in keeping it on.

Stripping the offending clothing off, Bazett bound it around the remnants of her arm. At least if the skin tore, something would stop it from killing her. Yet as she did so, she noticed something glowing amongst her crimson stained hands.

"Command Spells?" The design this time had changed. No doubt the previous design adorned Kirei's hand now. Since she only had her right hand left, this time they had formed on the back of her right hand. "Hah, what a sick, twisted joke."

What, exactly, had Kirei done to earn this karma, Bazett didn't know. However, her circle was still here and there was no chance of survival from another method. Perhaps this was fortune smiling on her. Perhaps this was just a extended death cry. Bazett didn't care which at this point.

So long as Kirei paid, she would happily march into the next life with a smile on her face. Such fury was unbecoming of an Enforcer, but to have ones dream in reach before being cruelly snatched away was something beyond Bazett's ability to stand. The sight of the crimson spells had lit a fire in what was left of Bazett's belly. Her priority could not even be called survival. No, she simply wanted revenge, served cold if she must.

Which catalyst could she use, though?

Bazett did not give the idea that much thought. Her fingers curled around a ring and that simply was as far as she thought on the matter, limping to her circle and tossing it roughly in the center. What was the ritual again? Her mind was becoming too hazy to even truly remember the incantation. What phrases she did remember were fading fast.

"Shit." Bazett's right leg crumpled as she bit her lip. This was one hell of a ignoble end, but like hell she was just going to surrender to oblivion at this late stage. If she was going to die, it would be mid-spell. Pulling the mental trigger, her body lit up with the burning sensation of magical energy pounding through her veins.

"Let silver and iron be the foundation.
Let stone and the archduke..."

Bazett felt blood split out of her lip into her mouth. She'd already forgotten the start of the ritual. Who maintained the contract? What was the sequence? It had already left her head.

"Damn it." Her fist curled, punching the circle. To hell with it. She just had to hope that the circle remembered the formation of the spell it'd just cast. "OI! ANSWER ME YOU BASTARD!" All of the energy within her body exploded from it through her fist, lighting up the circle like a sun. Magic expended, Bazett let her body crumple. Either this had saved her life, or she was now dead. It did not really matter which, in the end.

It was out of her hands now.

"You look like shit."

A voice had spoken. Something had answered the call. Bazett cast a weak, lazy eye towards the circle, but everything was rapidly turning to shadow. There was nothing to see in this situation.

Metal scrapped along the ground, and the sound of glass shattering rang out. A knight class, Bazett guessed. A powerful Servant. Maybe she would have avoided betrayal if she had summoned this one first. Her body slowly left the ground, wrapped in cloth and warmth.

"I-"

"Be quiet Master." The voice declared. "You can close your eyes now. You are safe."

In a mere moment, it seemed that the Servant had already identified what had happened and what needed to be done. Assured in that knowledge, Bazett let her consciousness fade along with her sight. If she woke up again, she would have to remember to thank the Servant.


Consciousness did indeed return to Bazett, and along with it, clarity. The world faded in and out for a steady few minutes, and the memories of her previous bout of consciousness assaulted her almost immediately.

"You're awake." Nothing got past the Servant that had been summoned, it seemed, for it had already identified that it's Master was awake. "The water is on the table. Drink slowly."

"Thank you." It took Bazett a long moment to realise why she could not pick up the water she could barely see. Her left arm simply wasn't there anymore. Correcting the limb by which she claimed the drink, she let the bland ambrosia enter her throat. "Where are we?" Her vision was focusing, but the room was dark.

"Someone's house. It's empty for now." The Servant answered. "I doubt it will remain such for long." Blinking, Bazett could feel her eyes adjust. It wasn't just someone's house, it was their living room. Blood painted the floor from where the door was. Bazett could only assume it was hers.

"I need to-"

"Your injuries have been tended to." The Servant noted. "I'm not that bad at it."

Blinking, Bazett slowly looked down. Bandages covered her body, and the pain was far less then before. The Servant appeared to have been right, though her bandaging left something to be desired.

"And the internals?"

"You vomited a lot of crap when I was clearing them." The Servant answered. "Heal yourself if you don't trust me, but you are well enough."

Bazett would have to check that later. For now, she was more interested in who, exactly, she had summoned. Now that her vision had cleared, she could see her Servant far more clearly. She was a woman, boyish in look and hair tied in a rough blond ponytail. Her right hand had the ring that Bazett had used as a catalyst upon it, and her body was wrapped in simple, if old, cloth, a mantle tied roughly around her shoulders.

No, this was not everything. Bazett could remember the scrape of metal. The Servant possessed plenty of steel, she just was not wearing it.

"I suppose introductions are in order." Bazett began awkwardly. The Servant shrugged, leaning back on the couch with a packet of potato chips she'd no doubt plundered from the pantry.

"Caster. Technically, if you were to declare a faction, I am of White." The Servant answered dryly. "Considering your state, you either don't know who I am or don't remember."

"No, I don't." Bazett admitted. "Bazett Fraga McRemitz." Still, the ring that adorned Caster's finger gave Bazett a very good guess as to who she was talking with. "I don't recall Lot having a daughter."

"Gareth." The Caster retorted dryly. "More common then you think." The way she answered confirmed the touchiness of the subject. Bazett decided not to push further.

"Right, Ser Gare-"

"Mordred."

"... Mordred." Bazett corrected. The knight that betrayed King Arthur was not who she was hoping for. Her hope had been for Gawain, or maybe Agravain in a pinch. Mordred was a danger. There was no telling when she would simply decide she'd had enough. "What did you mean, White Faction?"

"The Grail's defence has been tripped. Either the war is in danger of never finishing or someone did it on purpose. I don't care." Mordred answered, chips crunching in her mouth. "Extra servants have been summoned for what is effectively a seven verse seven war."

"So there are fourteen servants."

"At least fifteen." Mordred's lips pursed. "There are three factions. That seems ludicrous on the face of it."

That did sound ludicrous. The summoning of Heroic Spirits as Servants was a taxing event on the land. Even in the most optimal circumstances, it would take years for the land to rec-

Bazett flinched, before forcing herself to her feet, marching to the window, and throwing it open, breathing in the outside air.

"It's stagnant."

"The land's been sucked dry, yes." Caster noted behind Bazett. "This war has probably already spelled disaster for this place. The wind will soon cease, and the greenery will wither. Then the calamities will start."

Reckless tomfoolery on behalf of someone had doomed the spiritual lands of Fuyuki, and on some level, Bazett had to wonder if she was partly responsible. After all, Kirei's betrayal may have been the event that set this disaster off.

"No..."

"Yes. There is no point worrying about it. The hell has already begun. We can't stop it." Caster declared, standing up and stretching. "Aaaah, much better. So, Master, what is our first move? Do you even have a first move?" Her lips had twisted into a grin. Bazett had no doubt that Caster was testing her. After all, there was no reason to ask unless Bazett was expected to do something...

[ ] "No, there is no plan. I need more time to rest."
[ ] The Tohsaka owned the Fuyuki Spiritual Lands. That was the first destination. The War could wait.
[ ] Ryudou Temple was the spiritual foundation of Fuyuki. The quickest way to determine the spread of the stagnation would be to investigate its source.
[ ] Bazett was underequipped. There was only one choice to make. Now where was her hotel room key. She had to reclaim her equipment before someone else claimed them. At least Kirei didn't know where it was yet.