Fate/Constellation

[Hierophant]

Prologue - Sagittarius
In the instant before you die, you look up one last time, with wide eyes that have gone beyond fear, beyond despair, into a kind of calm acceptance that maybe disturbs you even more than the tip of the blood-red lance currently pointed at your chest. That acceptance gives you a cool measurement of your surroundings, from the moonlight streaming into the little shed to the piles of not-yet-fixed junk lying carelessly scattered on the shelves.

Normality, familiarity.

In the center of everything, his lithe form highlighted in stark contrast against the darkness, is the strange man who is about to kill you. He seems to be dressed in blue from head to toe, his hair, gauntlets and armor all dyed in that odd color. And of course, the lance, its point so sharp you can't focus your gaze on the end of it, radiating such lethality that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that once that lance is thrust, you will die, and this time there won't be anyone to save you.

...or will there?

It's a night of miracles, a night of fate. Coincidence after coincidence, lucky save after lucky save. If you hadn't stayed late to clean the dojo, you wouldn't have witnessed the fight between the lancer that stands before you and the shining blonde woman who clutched a shaft of air that sparked and clanged against his lance. If you hadn't been spotted by the man in blue, or saved by the stranger that knelt over you, you wouldn't be here in this shed. If you hadn't managed to somehow fend the lancer off briefly with a reinforced rolled-up poster that Taiga had left behind, you wouldn't have survived.

There will be another miracle. Already, you feel that oppressive sense of death from the tip of the lance lightening. A strange emotion blossoms in your chest, like a flower that keeps your heart pumping and sends waves of soothing energy through your muscles.

You know the word for this: hope.

"It's unlikely, but maybe you were the seventh one. Well, this is it for you, even if that's the case." The man is clearly a foreigner, but he does not speak with an accent. His voice is flat and neutral, pronouncing the Japanese words precisely and fluently. The tone is that of an executioner ready to heave the axe downwards.

The man's arm moves into that impossibly quick thrust once more. The running silver light streaks towards you, spearhead moving straight for your heart. In that moment, you don't feel panic, or anger, or even shock. Only the cool embrace of hope, a fervent, reasonless hope that you will be saved. By a superhero, like your father was once upon a time. Or an act of God, moving heaven and earth to deflect that strike.

As it turns out, it was a little bit of both.

A blinding light fills the shed, enveloping it in a soft glow.

The lance thrust at your heart is knocked off-course by a streak of pink that slams into the lance, causing the lancer to step back, readying it with a quick flourish.

"...The seventh servant?!" Unlike you, the lancer sounds shocked.

A figure steps from behind, a girl that moves to put herself between you and the bestial lancer. She's carrying a bow, but not a design that you'd ever seen in the archery dojo. It looks nothing so much like a thin wooden branch with a rose blossoming from the end, curved in an arc to form the length of the bow, an almost invisible wire connecting its ends. Nocked on it are three blades of what appear to be shining pink crystals, elongated into arrow shapes.

The girl fires with an audible twang, and the lance rotates to deflect the arrows, showering sparks across the shed that you shield your face from with your hands.

"Kuh!"

The lancer dives sideways with frightening speed, disappearing out of the shed. Probably to gain space to dodge the arrows, or perhaps just to recover from the unexpected reversal and retreat to safer ground, where he can set the stage for the next conflict. At that moment, you don't particularly care.

Still holding the rose-bow, the girl turns to you, and you're struck by how young she is. Thirteen or fourteen at most, sporting pink hair bunched into twin ponytails that only serves to reinforce her childishness. Her face is beautiful and serene, as young as it is. She's clad in an old fashioned dress, decorated in pink and white with ruffles and lace all over, fanning out near her legs. White gloves and virginal white stockings complete the outfit.

You're struck speechless.

The girl stares at you with something bright in her jewel-like eyes, and speaks in a high-pitched, musical voice. "I ask of you. Are you my Master?" Despite her youthful appearance, the strong magical aura radiating from her leaves no doubt that she's the same kind of being as the man outside.
[ ] "Huh... Mas...ter...?"
[ ] "Who… are you..?"
[ ] "We can worry about formalities later! ... That blue guy is still waiting outside..."

 

[Hierophant]

[Thank you to my betas, Ambigravity and JohnSolaris.]

Chapter One - Through the Heart
"Are you a miracle?" you blurt out. It's the only word you can think of to describe the girl that saved you. You don't know who she is, or what she's talking about. All you know is that she's the same type of creature as the feral lancer outside. Even now, simply setting your eyes upon her sends a surge of serenity rushing through your veins, a complete reassurance that everything will turn out fine.

What would you call someone like that, other than a miracle or a monster?

She smiles suddenly, sweet and innocent. The girl giggles slightly as she replies. "I suppose you can consider me a sort of miracle."

Of course she is. She's obviously not a monster, after all. She lifts her bow slightly, and the rose perched on the end of it glows with a pinkish light. "You who have summoned me as a Servant under the name of Archer... I feel like we're going to get along! Please give me an order, Master."

That strange word – Master. The girl had mentioned it twice, the first time asking if you were her Master, the second time talking as though she were sure that you were. You aren't sure why. You aren't even a proper magus, let alone a Master, whatever that is. At most, you're a struggling novice who only knows how to do one spell, so bad at magic that even his own father advised him to give up trying to learn.

But she says it with firmness and crystal clarity, as though she's absolutely sure you're –

Your thoughts are cut off as pain flares through your left hand, as though a white-hot poker has been placed upon it, branding its mark into your flesh. You grab it and force a grunt of pain through your teeth. The unwelcome thought that your wrist may have been broken from trying to block the lancer's strikes flashes through your mind. Wasn't adrenaline supposed to suppress pain? Maybe that's why you didn't realize how bad your injuries were until now.

The girl in the pink dress drops to one knee and takes your hands between hers. She feels cool and soothing, and the last of pain quickly dies away. She smiles comfortingly and looks you in the eye with a gaze far too intense for a fourteen-year-old girl, almost uncomfortable in how open and sincere it is.

"From this time forth, my sword shall be with you and your fate shall be with me. Now, our contract is complete." She breaks off after saying that, and giggles again. "A bit silly, isn't it? I don't even use a sword, but I have to say those words."

...You get the impression that something monumentally significant just happened, but you have no idea what. You have a vague recollection that the word "contract" means something special when used in a magical context, but no more than that. Kiritsugu always discouraged you from studying magic too deeply, saying it would only bring you a life of misery, so your knowledge of technical terms is scanty at best.

Abruptly the girl stands again and readies her bow, looking straight past you with wide pink eyes. You glance back too, but you see nothing except the open shed door, moonlight streaming through its frame. Does she sense something you don't?

"I'm going to protect you, Master. Please stay here."

With those words, she leaps out of the shed without hesitation, her bow starting to glow with pink light. You hurry to the open shed door, alarmed. As strange as she is, there's no way a young girl like her could possibly be a match for someone as terrifyingly quick as the lancer in blue.
"Stop!" you shout, but the girl must either not have heard you or decided to ignore you, as you immediately hear the noises of conflict - steel clashing, loud whistling that could've been either whistling arrows or a swinging lance. You disobediently scramble out of the shed. She leaps around the darkened yard gracefully, so radiant that she almost seems to produce light of her own, dodging the lancer's heavy swings and thrusts with quick footwork.

As you watch, she deflects a slash with the edge of her bow, which is apparently much sturdier than it looks. Undeterred, the man in blue tries to skewer her again with a vicious thrust of his lance. She responds by leaping backwards with inhuman strength, almost seeming to teleport into the air, simultaneously loosing a volley of four arrows from her bow.

The crystalline arrows streak from her bow and swoop towards the lancer. He spins his weapon to block them, the clash of metal on crystal creating a harsh sound that's as cold and clear as a bell rung on a winter's dawn, illuminating the night with a sudden shower of sparks. The arrows are batted aside, crashing harmlessly into the ground with small bursts of light.

He dashes forward, closing the distance between him and the girl, who has just landed catlike on her feet. Another thrust, and this time she dodges it, swaying her body to the left. The thrust extends his lance outwards, and he converts the miss to a sweeping blow that forces her to leap aside once again. But that extension also works against him, as he's forced to pull his lance into an awkward position to parry the next follow of arrows.

They clash again and again, a total of seventeen times, but even an untrained amateur like yourself can tell that neither combatants are going anywhere. The girl's simply moving too fast, her reflexes too good, to get hit by the spear. On the other hand, her attacks are far too weak and slow to even hope to penetrate past the whirling lance that shields the man in blue from harm.

After the last consecutive fruitless exchange, the man glares at the girl standing perhaps ten meters from him. His gaze isn't trained on you, but you can feel the force of its intensity from where you stand nervously at the open doorway of the shed.

The girl backs away, slowly, and with sudden surprise, you realize that the grip on her bow is more determined than furious. She has none of the killing intent that the lancer displayed. The way she's been fighting, she'd have no chance of ever hurting him, and she has to know that.

"Hah! Don't tell me you're a coward like my Master. There isn't room for cowards in this war." The lancer spits the words out almost mockingly, raising his spear in challenge.

"I don't want to fight," she says, and the sincerity in her voice is clear. "Please go away. You won't be able to accomplish anything here."

The lancer doesn't even respond to that, merely sneering as though the idea is an insult to him. From what you've seen of him, it probably is. He loves to fight, you've seen his grin as he blocked the girl's arrows and twirled in lightning quick motions to strike at her. To retreat now would be an absurdity for someone like that. His head shifts down, away from her face. He's looking at her bow now, not her.

"What Noble Phantasm is that? It's impossible that I wouldn't recognize a weapon that looks as strange as that."

The girl looks at him, but you can't see her expression from here. "Who knows, Lancer? Maybe it's a bow that nobody has ever written about before."

"Hah! You're trying to tell me a no-name bow can be the Noble Phantasm of an Archer who can match me in a battle?" The edge has left his voice; he sounds almost amused now. You don't see what he finds so funny.

...He said it again. Noble Phantasm. You're not sure what the phrase means, though you feel like you ought to know.

The lancer, who apparently is actually called Lancer, straightens and lowers his spear, as though he doesn't want to fight any more. Is he really going to listen to the girl's plea? She, at least, seems to believe so, smiling encouragingly at him and lowering her own bow as well.

But...

... you've seen that stance before. It was used a few hours ago, in his fight at school. When he was gulping in mana from the world all around him, so quickly and furiously that it was almost disgusting to look at. Preparing to use a move that will end the fight instantly.

The air around them distorts, and the girl must have realized something is going on, because she raises her bow again, gathering her own magic. But it's too late.

A chill in the air, magical energy rushing in a whirlpool towards the lance –

"See ya. I'll take that heart of yours!"

Lancer leaps, so fast that you don't see him move through the air, only landing in front of the young girl, gravel and dirt showering out from where his feet dig into the ground. With simple motion, he thrusts his lance downwards, at the girl's feet. She instinctively leaps back, dodging it like she's done for the dozens of other strikes that he's thrust at her so far.

"Gae Bolg!" The words themselves are charged with magical energy, less like a gathered source of power and more like a precise key to shape and direct the whirlpool that surrounds the lance.

You aren't sure what's happened. You don't see the lance hit her, or anything like that. You do see her crumpling to the ground instantly, a wound gored into her chest that you know immediately is fatal. Her bright eyes are dull, glazed over. You aren't sure how you can tell they are, from so far away, but you know.

Surprisingly, Lancer doesn't look particularly triumphant at his victory. In fact, he doesn't look much happier than he was before. The feral light, the wild excitement that possessed him when he was fighting seems to have left him, and his expression is partway between boredom and resignation as he glances away from the still form of the girl in pink and looks straight at you.

If you were a character in a light novel or manga, this would have been the perfect time to say something. Utter some exclamation of fear, scream an oath or defiance, or at the very least curse and prepare yourself for a fight. You do none of these things. The part of your mind that isn't occupied with keeping you breathing and standing and taking note of what's going on around you is gibbering in a corner somewhere. You don't think you could say anything, even if you forced yourself to.

Lancer takes a step to you, then another. You can't walk, either. Not that it would do you any good. He raises his lance, pointing it directly at you.

Another step, and something flies at him. An arrow, bathed in cloudy pink light, leaving a trail of shattered air behind it as it rockets towards the ground he stands on. It's different from the arrows fired at him when he was fighting the girl. Stronger.

Lancer whirls on his heel and blocks the arrow, but the resulting explosion staggers him and throws up a geyser of mud and stone. He looks genuinely shocked as the girl rises to her feet with stiff, trembling movements. The tiny oval gem around her neck is glowing brightly, almost a torchlight in the intensity of its glare.

A gem... like the one that had saved you, when Lancer stabbed you through the heart in school?

No. This one is different, somehow. For one, it's far stronger, exuding magic with such presence that you can feel the static charge in the air all the way from here. But it stands to reason that if a lesser gem could save your life, then maybe the girl had used this gem to save hers, as well.

The girl doesn't look too good, despite that. She's pale, and clearly in no condition to fight. Blood still flows from the wound in her chest, though slower now, a thick trickle instead of a gushing river. Still, she determinedly raises her bow and summons three more pink arrows to her palm, nocking them with a smooth motion.

"Go away," she says fiercely. She coughs, and catches her breath, but does not falter.
If Lancer attacks now, you're pretty sure she can't survive. But Lancer doesn't attack. He simply stares at her with narrow eyes and a tight jaw. "You evaded my Gae Bolg?" he frowns. "No, it hit you. But you survived."

"Please go away," says the girl. "I really don't want to fight you again." The previous fierceness is gone from her voice. It's softer, now. For some reason, you almost expect her to burst into tears, though that would be ridiculous. Miracles don't cry.

The hostility disappears from the man as he clucks his tongue in annoyance. "...If I use this move, it needs to be fatal. You avoided dying even after being pierced through the heart..."
He turns his back, moving casually to the edge of the yard, speaking as he walks. "Normally, I would continue fighting, but unfortunately my Master is a coward. He's telling me to go back since you didn't die to my lance."

The girl nods and manages a weak smile. "Thank you for listening to me, Lancer." Listening to her? Didn't he just say he was merely following a command from his Master?

He snorts. "You can come after me if you want. But I don't think you will." With that, he bounds over the wall easily and vanishes into the night.

The girl in pink sags, and you run through the darkened yard to catch up to her. Now that the pressure of combat has lifted, you can clearly see her finer features outlined in the moonlight. Otherworldly pink hair, a bit of a mess from the fight, swaying lightly in the wind. A strangely old-fashioned dress, petticoats and all. You try to avoid looking at the ugly gash in it.

She lowers her bow and clutches at her chest with a sound of pain, and you rush to... you're not sure. If this were a regular fourteen year old girl, you would have given her a hug, but it would be ridiculous to even think of touching something as inhuman as this girl. Still, you're disgusted that you let her fight Lancer by herself without even once thinking of stepping in, even if it would have led to your death. You settle for awkwardly stopping short of her wounded form, trying to see if there's a way to help.

There's also a small voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that yet another two miraculous events have occurred: the girl somehow surviving a lance through the heart, and Lancer leaving instead of taking advantage of her weakness. At this point, you aren't even that surprised by them. After all, that's what the hope that had been whispering to you ever since she appeared had told you to expect.

Those whispers grow louder the closer you draw to her. As close as you are, you're finding it hard to even conceive of a situation where anything could go wrong, even with her wounded and you vulnerable like this. After all, it's a given that something miraculous will happen again to save the both of you. Even now, the wound seems to be healing, albeit very slowly.

Then, sucking in a breath, you speak. You had an idea of what you were going to say, but nervousness and general wooziness scramble them into an incoherent stutter. In the end, you settle for the simple question. "Who are you?"

Ah. She's smiling. That must mean the wound isn't hurting so much after all. "I'm your Servant. My name is Madoka, but please call me Archer in front of other people."
Archer? It must be some sort of designation... come to think of it, Lancer was probably something similar. The blue-haired guy can't possibly be named something as weird as Lancer, unless he had some disturbingly prophetic parents. Does a creature like him even have parents?

After a moment, you stutter out a reply. "...I'm Shirou. My name is Emiya Shirou, and I live in this house."

She nods happily, all the pain and fear from the battle seemingly gone. Had she recovered that fast, or was she just hiding it from you? Ugh. More questions that you probably won't get the answers to. "I see. Nice to meet you, Shirou!"

On to the next question. Hopefully it comes out right this time. You feel a little silly for being awed by a girl as young as her, but after seeing what she can do... besides, for all you know she could be some incredibly old being using magic to look young.

"Um... not to be rude, but what's going on? Why did you call me a Master?"

She grins. "Because I made a contract with you! Don't worry, I'm used to making contracts, so it's nothing special for me. Like I said before, I'm your Servant. So you must be my Master, to give me orders and help me win, right?"

Her words aren't making any sense to you, and her insistence on using the odd terminology isn't helping matters. First things first, you suppose. "You shouldn't call me Master."

Madoka nods instantly. "I'll call you Shirou instead. That sounds much better."

You're a little surpised that she would audaciously call you by your first name just moments after seeing you for the first time. Maybe it was due to whatever contract she was talking about.

A flash of pain on the back of your left hand distracts you once more. It isn't as painful as it was before, but it's still enough to make you grimace and cry out. You wonder what the girl thinks of you, wincing at such a minor pain after she stoically took a lance through her heart. The mark of the hot brand earlier now blazes with energy.

When you look down, you see a strange mark on the back of your hand, like a tattoo. "What the – " At the last second, you cut yourself off. It would be bad to swear in front of her. Not just because she's young, but because the aura of pure innocence that she radiates is so strong that you feel terrible just thinking about swearing.

"That's your Command Seal," says Madoka. "It's like a mark to show that you're a Master, and it makes your Servant obey you. Don't worry, I trust you not to use it thoughtlessly."
Her face changes suddenly, the mood shifting so rapidly you feel the pit of your stomach lurching. "Shirou, please stand behind me. I think I sense more enemies coming towards us. I'm not fully recovered yet, but I'll try my best to protect you."

As if to prove her words, two figures step into the compound. You recognize them. They were the ones at school, duelling with Lancer. One is an unspeakably beautiful blonde girl, radiating grace and elegance in the same way that Madoka radiates hope and joy. She wears a strange dress, almost like a hybrid of a suit of armor and a gown, and her hands are outstretched as if she's holding something in front of her, though her grip appears to be empty.

Walking slightly behind her is a familiar figure. You even talked to her recently, though it wasn't anything more serious than an exchange of greetings in the morning. Unless you were seriously mistaken, that was Tohsaka Rin, the school idol. Pretty, with good grades and popular friends. What on earth was she doing here?

"Tohsaka? Is that you?" From the way she turns sharply upon mentioning that name, you know instantly it has to be her.

Without warning, the armored figure suddenly rushes at you and Madoka with incredibly speed. Madoka raises her bow defensively, but the blonde girl swings her hands and something slams into it with a loud crack, sending her stumbling back. A socked foot plants firmly on the ground to regain equilibrium, and this time, when the blonde girl swings her fists again, she hops backwards to avoid it and nocks an arrow to her bow. The same tactic she'd used against Lancer.

No. You can't let her fight like this. It's not right that someone that looks like a young girl should be fighting, rather than you. But at the same time, you know that the blonde girl is the same type of creature as Lancer and Madoka, Servants or whatever. Which means you stand no chance against her. Still, you have to do something.

In a heartbeat, the blonde girl is dashing forward to close the gap between her and Madoka, who's drawing back the string of her bow with wide eyes. Reacting purely on instinct, you...

[ ] Throw yourself between the blonde girl and Madoka.
[ ] Beg them to stop fighting.
[ ] Shout at Tohsaka to do something.
[ ] Get Madoka out of harm's way by telling her to run, putting all your willpower behind the words. (Uses Command Seal)

 

[Hierophant]

Chapter Two - The Crippled Master
The blonde girl dashes forward, hands raised high, still clutching that shaft of air. Whatever it is, you it's more than a match for Madoka's crystal arrows and the bark of her bow. Madoka's eyes widen, and without even thinking, you leap to push her out of the way.

You weren't fast enough.

At the last moment, you see the blonde girl swing her fists towards you, as though thrusting with an invisible weapon, and you instinctively raise your hands to block it, shield the archer in the pink dress. From the way it rattled and clashed, you expected something blunt, some sort of club of air swung to break you from shoulder to elbow. But it isn't a club.

The weapon slams into you, and you fall against Madoka, who hurries to catch you before you hit the ground. You're not sure what's happening – you see blood, spattered over the ground like someone took a can of spray paint to it. Your arm sends giant waves of agony pulsing through you, and that agony lends a gray filter to your vision, almost seeming to distort the air as you dully glance around. You can't move your arm any more, even if you wantto.

The blonde Servant and Tohsaka seem to have frozen in shock, the Servant lowering her weapon as though in a daze. Your eyes roll up, and you see the moon clearly, shining beautifully in the sky, amongst a blanket of stars. Just like you and Kiritsugu used to watch. After that, it all gets a little fuzzy.

You feel arms around you. Madoka? The blonde Servant? Maybe even Tohsaka? You aren't sure. You hear voices. "Saber, stop!" is a popular one, though it sounds tinny, like an echo of an echo, heard through a radio filled with static. Another voice calls your name. You're almost certain that one was Madoka.

You see swords and outlines of swords, and you see the sword, though its outline is blurry at best. Back when you were really young and just starting to train magic, you saw that sword all the time. But a few years later, it abruptly stopped. You aren't sure why it's come back now. Maybe it misses you?

An intermittent spark dances across your vision, suddenly you're face to face with Madoka, her staring worriedly at you. You wonder what she's worrying about. After all, with her around, there's no possibility that you might take serious damage. Just a brief touch of her palm on your forehead, as though checking for fever, and you relax in the knowledge that everything is going to be okay. It's almost like the hope you experienced just before summoning Madoka, except a hundred times more intense. At this point, it can no longer be called hope but a completely surety. Faith, maybe. You've never been very religious, but maybe it's time to start. Weren't miracles supposed to convert people...?

Fragments and visions swim through your mind. Stumbling through that lunatic hell, fire burning all around you. Lunch with Issei, using your tracing magic to fix a broken clock. Mock sparring sessions with Taiga, ones that she always won. Cheerfully cooking breakfast with Sakura.

The fragments vanish, and you are yourself again, lying face-up on a hard surface. Your eyelids are shut, but you can tell there's a bright light above you. You read somewhere that eyelids weren't opague, but translucent, which was why looking directly at a light with your eyes closed flashed orange instead of black. You experimentally twitch your left arm, and clench your teeth to bite back a scream at the pain.

Slowly, very slowly, you open your eyes. You're lying on the floor in your house, next to the long table used for meals. The bright light above you is the familiar white lamp bulb that you flick on and off every day. There's blood staining the front of your school uniform, but that's okay, because you can wash it later. More importantly, you glance around the room for Madoka.

There she is. Kneeling at the table, directly opposite from the blonde Servant. The blonde girl is watching Madoka with a still wariness that makes you want to laugh. Silly girl. There's no way Madoka would ever hurt anyone, so being paranoid about her is meaningless. Madoka, on her part, looks slightly cowed, and her cheeks look freshly wet.

Had she been crying? Huh. That's odd. Maybe miracles did cry after all. Or maybe they only did it when other people couldn't see.

You cough weakly, and both heads turn towards you immediately. The beautiful blonde Servant looks at you with a flat gaze, as though she's considering how to finish the job. Madoka looks at you with delight and... an emotion you can't describe. Something like trying very hard to score well on an exam, and then getting the top mark in class and celebrating. A mixture of relief, and joy, and expectation.

"Oh. The idiot's awake." The voice is smooth, but there's an edge to it that's hard to mistake for anything else.

Tohsaka Rin steps into view, her hair bound up into two tails in a style oddly reminiscent of Madoka. "Throwing yourself in front of Saber? What were you thinking?"

Saber. Another designation? A codename? Despite the Servant's beauty and grace, you can't really help but feel wary of her. She did nearly slice your arm off, after all.

"Shirou, I have to agree with her. Please don't do that again. I'm a Servant, so I'm supposed to protect you. Not the other way around." Madoka looks almost on the verge of tears again. Now that she's further away, without the strange rush of hope in your body, she seems more human, less like an alien spirit.

"It's okay. I'm fine," you tell her. You don't sound very convincing, even to yourself. You're trying to avoid looking too hard at your shattered left arm, the one with the tattoo on it. From the angle your neck is leaning, all you can see is that it's bound tightly with white bandages soaked with blood.

Madoka seems to believe you, though, since she smiles a little more and sits a little straighter. Tohsaka isn't that easy to fool.

"Idiot," she repeats. "Do you even know what you've gotten into?"

That. Is actually a very good question. "Not really. I'm guessing this is a magus thing, right? Then there's no use asking me. My father insisted that I stop training when I was twelve."

Tohsaka looks a little surprised. "Your father? Why?"

"Because it would put me in danger, of course! He didn't want me to get hurt in the conflicts between magi. I guess there's a fat chance of that happening now." You laugh a little, mostly at yourself. It was kind of naive of Kiritsugu to believe that he could stop you from getting hurt just by stopping your training. If a magus were to come after you, the fact that you're only half-trained wouldn't faze him.

Tohsaka lets out a dramatic sigh and rubs her forehead in an oddly endearing motion. "I guess I'll have to explain everything to you. You really are clueless, aren't you, Emiya-kun?"

You don't bother responding to that, since the answer's obvious. You let your head droop back down as Tohsaka starts explaining the concept of Servants, eager for an excuse to look away from Saber's stony expression.

-

It is darkest night in the streets of Fuyuki City, and nobody is awake to see you stagger across the bridge, leaning on the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl. A normal girl would have fallen under the weight you're exerting on her as you limp on the leg that isn't sprained, but since Madoka is a Servant(or, as Tohsaka dramatically put it, an "artificial god", not that you didn't already suspect something of the sort), she has no problem holding up.

The support she's giving you is less due to your strength in standing and walking and more in case you suddenly collapse. You feel lightheaded, a mix of heady emotions swirling around your mind. The sense of soothing hope that Madoka emanates does wonders for your morale, but it's a distraction when you're trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. There's the blood loss as well, and the nausea that gripped your throat when the scary-looking priest was talking about Masters murdering each other. Especially since you now know both you and Tohsaka are Masters, and will likely be forced to kill each other.

You limp below dim streetlights on Madoka's arm, straining to catch sight of Saber and Tohsaka just ahead, the latter often turning impatiently with her hands on her hips, waiting for you to catch up. The streets are unfamiliar, a gloomy maze. You've been to this part of town before, but never at night.

"We're almost at my house," says Tohsaka. "Hurry up! Didn't you hear what Kotomine said? For all we know, there's a Master lying in wait for us right now."

She's right. Nowhere is safe, now that you've entered this mad game of life and death. The only person you can trust is Madoka. Well, and maybe her as well, since she didn't try to take advantage of your weakened state to kill you immediately. Tohsaka's been acting strange all night; she's nothing like she is at school. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that the school Tohsaka is nothing like the magus Tohsaka.

The walk there is slower than expected. Your glacial pace is part of it, as is the fact that both Saber and Madoka insist on using their enhanced senses to check every shadowed route at every intersection. But after about half an hour, Tohsaka's house finally looms into sight.

Tohsaka mutters something you can't hear as she unlocks the front door, and there's a tiny flash of green. Something magical, but you aren't sure what. Maybe a Bounded Field? You know that those exist, at least, but it's impossible to guess what sort of Bounded Field someone like Tohsaka might have defending her house. Yours is just a simple ward to raise the alarm if a stranger enters. Anyway, the wooden door swings open, and the four of you enter.

Although you've been mentally calling it "Tohsaka's house", it would perhaps be more accurate to say "Tohsaka's manor". Every inch of it speaks of high class and Western-style luxury, from the tall gilded mirror near the front door to the rich velvet sofas in the living room.

"Your house is amazing, Tohsaka-san!" says Madoka. You're startled by the sudden outburst, and immediately feel bad. Subconsciously, you've been thinking of her as a sort of divine being with no real thoughts or ideas of her own, but that isn't right. Even though Madoka is far from human, she's still technically a person, so you should treat her like one.
"Uh, thanks, Archer. It's been owned by my family for a few generations." Tohsaka sounds surprised too. Saber walks silently beside her, still clutching her invisible weapon watchfully even though all four of you are in a safe spot. Well, it's probably a sword, looking at the wound on your arm and the fact that she's been summoned under the Saber class.

You wonder if you're going mad. Using strange words like "summon" and "class" casually, entering into contracts with godlike beings, and Tohsaka Rin inviting you to stay over at her house...

"So, Emiya-kun, which guest bedroom do you want?"

You blink at that. You haven't been listening to Tohsaka as she points out the various rooms of her house. You don't really intend to stay long anyway, so that's useless information. After all, you have to rush back home to help make breakfast for Taiga and Sakura. "Uh, whichever one is more convenient. I don't mind, really."

Tohsaka smiles. "Okay then, you can take the west one."

After a hurried and awkward exchange of good nights, you leave Tohsaka and Saber, climbing up the stairs. You allow Madoka to change into spirit form, like Tohsaka showed you, causing her to evaporate into thin air from the legs upward, her wide smile being the last thing to disappear.

Then, yawning widely, you stumble into the bedroom Tohsaka pointed out. It's painted in azure, with a sleeker style of furniture and a proper Western bed, but you're too tired and befuddled to care too much. Without even removing your clothes or changing the bloody bandages on your still-numb arm, you simply collapse on the bed and fall into sleep as soon as your head touches the pillow.

-

And it's morning. You definitely didn't get enough sleep, and your arm's still unusable, though someone changed your bandages during the night and you managed to wrap a sling around it to avoid jarring the bone too much. Madoka's hovering somewhere in spirit form next to you – you can't tell exactly where, you aren't a good enough magus, but the feelings she creates are familiar enough.

Tohsaka Rin sits on the armchair across from you, looking worse than you feel. Her hairstyle has been completely messed up, and her eyes are still bleary from sleep. She gratefully accepts the teapot that Saber passes her, pouring steaming black coffee into a cup and sipping at it. She sees you staring at her.

"I'm always like this in the morning," she says.

Uh huh. She takes another sip of coffee. "So, what did you want to talk about? I have to hurry back if I'm going to be in time..."

She raises a finger. "Hold on. First, do you understand exactly how stupid what you did last night was?"

What? She's still angry about that now? But she seemed pretty calm at the church, and when walking back to her house. Why the sudden outburst?

"Look. Archer will disappear if you're killed. So if you risk your life to save her, that's a completely meaningless act."

"It's not that I wanted to risk my life," you reply, a little frustrated. Can't she see that trying to save Madoka wasn't even a decision that you needed to think about? "I was trying to protect her. Things just ended up like that."

Tohsaka sighs exasperatedly and covers her face with her hand. "I see. You seem to be misunderstanding. Well, I guess I'll come out and say it. I didn't take you to the church to help you win. I was trying to help you stay alive even if you were left on your own. But if you keep on with that attitude, it's going to be difficult to help you."

"...I see. Thank you for helping me out." You're surprised that Tohsaka's showing such concern for you. She must have been the one to change your bandages.

There's an uncomfortable silence, as though neither you knows what to say. Then:

"So, what are you going to do? You said last night that you didn't want to kill people."

You were hoping she wouldn't ask that question.

"Well, no. I can't kill anyone, but if I injure them, maybe they will calm down and stop fighting me." You aren't sure how, but you know that Madoka is nodding her head vigorously in spirit form.

Tohsaka sighs again. "Unbelievable."

"I know it's a stupid choice, but I can't think of any other options. I won't change my decision no matter how much you argue against it." You have a feeling that if you lowered your guard, Tohsaka would try to bully you into fighting the Holy Grail War for real, the exact opposite of what you want.

Saber interrupts, leaning forward. "Master. What we talked about last night. Does that still apply?"

"Oh, yes. Although I feel like changing my mind after listening to this idiot here," Tohsaka grumbles. "Well, Emiya-kun, would you like to team up with me?"

The unexpected offer catches you off-guard. "Team up? Like an alliance?"

She nods, then launches into what you're sure it's a pre-memorized speech. "Listen, the both of us have some sort of weakness in our Servants. For some reason, Saber can't seem to fade into spirit form, which means she'll be constantly sucking up all my mana. And you have an injured arm, so you'll be weaker. If we both ally together, we can make up for each others' weaknesses. Besides, I'm sure you don't want to have to fight me, do you?" She says that last line challengingly.

"Well..."

"So? Do you want to team up or not?"

[ ] Team up with Tohsaka.
[ ] Politely refuse.

 

[Hierophant]

[I've been sick the whole day and my beta has vanished, so I apologize if this chapter isn't up to scratch. Rest assured, the next ones will be better.]

Chapter Three - The Third and the Fourth
"Looking for something, Shirou?"

You turn to see a familiar boy with curly blue hair wave to you. Shinji Matou, an old friend. As understandable as his presence is, it still comes at an inconvenient time. You were just about to see if you could do something about the sigil in the dojo. One of the anchors that keep the structure of the Bounded Field around the school intact. It was the cloying smell and feel of sickly sweet honey that drew you to it, stronger than the other places you surveyed.

Of course, you can't do anything magic-related with Shinji around. It's been a day since you agreed to the alliance with Rin, and nothing's cropped up yet, but only a fool would let down his guard. No proper Master would attack in broad daylight, especially in such a public area, but you're well aware that the participants of the Holy Grail War might well decide to break the rules if it's to their advantage.

"Shinji," you reply. He approaches with his usual confident stride, flashing a grin at you.

"Ah, Shirou. Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"The Boundary Field, of course. Did you spot it by yourself, or did Tohsaka help you in finding it?"

...What? Did he just...?

As you scramble to form a coherent reply, you feel Madoka appear on the roof of the dojo, just above where Shinji and you are talking. She must be suppressing her aura, because you don't feel anything, but you know she'll have an arrow or two knocked to pin Shinji to the ground if he tries anything. Madoka doesn't have the will to fight that the other Servants you've seen have – particularly Saber, who spent most of last night's meeting arguing to take the fight to your opponents – but she isn't afraid to defend herself or you if attacked, either.

"Oh, let's not hide anything from each other," says Shinji. "I don't know which Servant you have, but you were forced to become a Master too, right?"

You weren't expecting such an honest admission. "I wouldn't expect you to be so open about it if you were a Master, Shinji."

He gives a careless shrug. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't intend to fight with anyone, unless they engage me first. I'm like you in that regard."

For a moment, you suppress alarm at the thought that he might have been spying on your late-night planning meetings with Rin, saw how fervently you and Madoka argued to keep to yourself and only retaliate if attacked. Then you realize that he probably guessed it immediately upon learning you were a Master. Unlike Tohsaka, the Master of Archer is exactly the same as the Emiya Shirou that attends school and helps the student council fix broken heaters.

At Shinji's words, Madoka relaxes and evaporates into spirit form once more, swooping down to invisibly take her place at your side. You can sense her smile from where you stand, and if you wonder if Shinji can too.

"It's actually lucky that I found you here," Shinji continues. "I wanted to discuss the possibility of cooperation."

"After school, you can talk to me all you want. Right now, there's too much of a danger that someone might overhear us."

He scowls at that. "Are you stupid? We can skip classes. Let's go, Emiya. Stop being a pussy for once." Disapproval radiates from the shimmering cloud of magical energy beside you at Shinji's words.

"Sorry, Shinji. The teachers might get suspicious if I started going missing from class."

"What are you -" Suddenly, Shinji breaks off and laughs. "Oh, I see. You were afraid I'd stab you in the back,weren't you? Don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to pick a fight against another Servant. Come on, Emiya. Let's go."

Actually, you hadn't even considered that possibility, but now that he's brought it up, it's something you can't ignore. But he's already starting to walk dismissively towards the school gates, forcing you to hurry if you want to catch up to him. You don't really want to miss what he has to say, either, given that he's been your friend for years. So, reluctantly, you follow the third Master in skipping afternoon classes.

Together, you ascend the hill road, towards the Western-style houses on the opposite side of your house. Rin's house stands at the very top of the hill, but the Matous have their house a bit below, as though shading it away from prying eyes. There's little conversation as the two of you walk. You don't feel like talking to him, either, after seeing him slap his little sister in public yesterday morning. You'd barely been able to persuade Madoka not to materialize to comfort Sakura, using her aura and natural happy personality to make her feel better. Heck, you'd even given some thought towards letting her do that. But in the end, keeping Sakura away from the world of magic was more important than providing some emotional comfort.

As you near the end of your journey, the Matou house looms closer. It's as big as you remember, almost gothic in design. Creepers snake around windowsills, but in a controlled manner, rather than the wild growth one would expect from an abandoned house. A fat, cylindrical building is attached to the main one, tapering upwards into a glass spire that glares down on the metal grating and neatly trimmed lawn on the outside of the house.

When you enter you're immediately struck by the feeling of darkness. The building was constructed to obstruct sunlight from entering, and there aren't many lights inside the house itself. If you weren't already used to the layout of the house, you'd probably smack yourself into the wall. As it is, you manage to navigate your way to the living room, arms outstretched to avoid bumping into furniture.

Shinji has gone in before you, not bothering to show you inside, but at the very least the living room is very slightly brighter than the other parts of the house. It's still dark, with curtains drawn over the windows, but they're thin enough that feeble trickles of light fade through, just enough to see.

You glance over to where Shinji is sitting sprawled in an armchair, and behind him, a figure that can only be his Servant. You can't tell the Servant's age, whether it's a man with boyish figures or a boy with the stature and presence of a full-grown man. He has neat brown hair, and a handsome expression that would have gotten the girls at school swooning over him.
Even though he's standing in the shadows of the Matou living room, his outfit still stands out. A black and gold cloak with an old-fashioned high collar that reaches to his chin, with a white shirt and long black boots. Rubies are studded on the clasp of his cloak and along the sides, a contrast to his sharp green eyes.

At his side, strapped to his waist, the Servant carries a sword. Well, maybe "sword" is the wrong word to describe it. It has no cutting or chopping edge, only a tip that elongates into a tall conical "blade". Red and gold, with emeralds inset along its length, you can't help but feel that it's more ceremonial than anything else. Still, you can't help but tense up a little at the sight of a weapon.

Shinji's smug grin is visible even from where you stand. "Let me introduce my Servant. His name is Rider."

"I thought we were going to talk alone, Shinji," you say. You try to keep the edge out of your voice, but the combination of the darkened room and that Servant's gaze boring holes through you creep you out.

"Oh, no, it's just a precaution," Shinji smirks. "I have to make sure you won't suddenly turn on me, so I have to have Rider by my side." He stretches his hand out casually and touches Rider, caressing him slowly from waist to thigh, as though he was tasting or measuring him.

Rider doesn't react at all, standing there like a statue and keeping watch on you with implacable green eyes. It feels like he's scanning you down to the microscopic level, watching even your fingertips shiver.

"Don't worry, Emiya," he says. "It's not that I think you'll attack me or anything. There's no way you would do something like that. But your Servant – that's a different story. It's not unusual for a Servant to be a bit disobedient of their Master, so think of this as insurance in case your Servant's a little too bloodthirsty for my taste." You aren't happy with that at all, but you would sound petty if you brought it up.

"Oh, you should summon yours as well," says Shinji. "That way it's fair, isn't it? I mean, I showed you mine, so you should show me yours."

Heh. That entitled attitude... well, it's not like you weren't expecting him to say something along those lines. You gesture slightly, and Madoka appears behind you in a series of sparkling shimmers. She carries her bow in her hands, pointedly lowered, and her usual happy smile has vanished, turned to a worried look.

You're used to the rush of serenity through your veins as she appears, but Shinji isn't, and he involuntarily lets out a pleased sound, seeming to relax further into the sofa. Rider seems completely unaffected by it, however, and instead bends down to whisper something into Shinji's ear, before Shinji waves him away impatiently.

"What an interesting Servant you have. Well, I'll get to the point. Basically – "

You hold up a hand and cut him off. "Wait. First, I want to know something. How did you become a Master?"

Shinji laughs again, though with Madoka standing so close, it's more complacent than mocking. "It was easy. After all, the Matou family is a respected lineage of magi. I've known about Masters for quite a while."

Alarm flashes through your mind, but Madoka beats you to the punch. "Wait, does that mean Sakura-chan is – also a magi?"

A surprised expression crosses Shinji's face. "Emiya, tell your Servant to shut up. It's rude to interrupt a conversation like that."

"Nope," you reply. "She has a right to talk too. Besides, that's exactly what I was going to ask you."

"But your Servant – never mind. I'll leave disciplinary issues for you to handle privately. The answer is that Sakura knows nothing about magic. The Matou magic circuits have faded over time, so by the time I was born, the Matou blood is no stronger than that of an ordinary person's. Which means that the only thing we have left is our knowledge of magic."

"Then why doesn't Sakura know anything about magic?"

"Because a magus of an old lineage only passes on his knowledge to one person. If there are two children, the eldest son is the natural successor. It's like when titles are passed down a royal family." You swear you see Rider react slightly to that, a twitch of his eyebrows. Or was it just your imagination? "Obviously, that means I'm the successor to the Matou family knowledge. Sakura knows nothing about magic, since she'll never have access to it in her life."

"I see. Thank God, then." You feel relieved; magic was nothing more than a bloody conflict, and a gentle girl like Sakura would be ripped apart if she ever got involved with the Holy Grail War.

"Well, back to the main point. I want to cooperate with you. After all, we're both powerless Masters who don't know how to use magic. Together, we should be strong enough to beat Tohsaka." He glances at your arm, bandaged up and in a cloth sling. "Don't think I buy that story you gave the teachers about breaking your arm while cycling. I'm pretty sure that's a wound from a Servant. So you definitely have the will to fight if you're challenged."

Beat... Rin? No. There's no way you could even consider a deal like that. Rin's been a faithful ally to you, and it would be the height of dirtiness to betray her like that. Besides, you don't think even Madoka and Rider combined could beat Saber. That girl is like an unstoppable freight train.

So you shake your head firmly. "No way. Rin and I are already allies, so I wouldn't turn against her without letting her know first. Besides, I'm not in this to fight people. Like you said, I won't take action against someone unless they hurt me first."

Shinji's eyes widen a little at your addressing Rin by her given name, but then narrow. "I see. Well, I can't do anything if you're going to be stubborn. But let me ask... what about a Master that was hurting other people?"

Other people? "You mean the Master who set up the Boundary Field at school? I thought that was your doing."

"What? No. That wasn't my doing. I could hardly even sense it. I needed Rider to tell me it was there. It must be the work of the other Master at school."

"Rin told me there was only one. Are you sure there's another Master?"

"Of course. After all, I just told you my magic circuits have died out. So if she's sensing magical energy from another Master, it must be someone else. But I wasn't referring to the Boundary Field at school. I'm referring to the witch nesting in Ryuudou Temple."

"A witch?" Madoka seems to be disturbed by Shinji's use of the term, as she looks almost frightened. "Are you sure?"

Shinji ignores her and looks straight at you. "Are you really going to let her talk out of line like that?"

"Yep. I don't see anything wrong with what she said. Just because I'm supposed to be her Master doesn't mean I have to control her in whatever she does." Madoka shoots you a grateful look, but then looks frightened again.

Shinji snorts. "Well, have it your way. Anyway, Rider described the Servant to me as a witch, so I'll take him at his word. She's supposedly collecting souls from the city, so it'll be a problem if we don't do something about it fast. Didn't you see the morning news?"


People falling into comas, reports of a gas leak. If that was the fourth Servant, there's no doubt that she has to be taken down quickly before she does any more harm. You would be a pretty bad hero if you didn't do anything about it, especially since Shinji told you exactly where to find her.

Shinji must have seen something on your face – or maybe Madoka's face, because he looks satisfied. "Well, that's all. Rider, show them to the door. Don't harm either of them, they're my guests until they leave this house."

As the stony-faced Servant steps forward to guide you out, you can't help but feel a chill running down your spine, one that even Madoka's shared hope isn't enough to dispel. After all, she took a lance in the heart and went toe-to-toe with Saber without flinching, so how scary must this witch be if just talking about it makes her so scared?

-

It's evening, now, and the streets of Fuyuki City are already empty. People are getting spooked, not daring to leave their house. Even ordinary humans are able to sense when something's very wrong. Besides, the wind is particularly harsh tonight.

Rin sits across the table from you, leaning back in her chair, almost mirroring how Shinji sat when you met with him earlier in the day. "That's disturbing news, Shirou. To think that someone like Shinji is a Master, as well as reports of this strange Servant hiding in Ryuudou Temple..."

"I don't get it," blurts out Madoka. "It makes no sense for someone to hide all the way up there. Wouldn't a Servant want to stay close to their Master?"

"Unless," says Saber, "Their Master lived in Ryuudou Temple. It only makes sense. After all, Ryuudou Temple sits on the focus of a ley line."

Rin chokes a little on the tea she's drinking. She even splutters with grace, surprisingly feminine despite her usual gung-ho attitude. "You mean to say this house isn't the only focus in Fuyuki? How do you know?"

Saber's voice is flat. "You forget, I also participated in the last Grail War, in this city." She clearly doesn't want to talk about it, so you don't press her. "Well, I think the choice is clear. Since my Master is an experienced magus, I should have more than enough magical strength to deal with the Servant there. We know where the enemy is now, so the obvious choice is to attack as soon as possible."

"W-wait!" says Madoka. "I don't think we should attack immediately. That witch sounds scary... we need to protect everyone, but we can't get anything just by rushing in. I think we should wait for a better opportunity!"

Saber looks extremely annoyed. "That's the wrong way to think, Archer. If we keep waiting for a better opportunity to attack, we'll stay here every day while the enemy gets stronger and takes the initiative. We need to attack before we lose the advantage."

Rin places her hand on her chin, apparently lost in thought. "I think I have to agree with Saber here," she says. "It's simply too good a chance to pass up. Even if it's a trap by Shinji, at least we'll be able to lure him out and maybe even beat him. And if not, we manage to get rid of a dangerous opponent. I'm the strongest Master in this Grail War, and I have the strongest Servant, so there's no way we'll be in danger. Unless, of course, you decide to be an idiot again and jump in front of another Servant."

Ouch. There wasn't any need for her to remind you of that. Still, everyone's looking expectantly at you now. You have to tell them something.

[ ] Agree with Saber and Rin, and prepare to attack Ryuudou Temple.
[ ] Agree with Madoka, and decide not to fight for now.
[ ] Write-in(nothing too long or silly).


{Status page updated}

 

[Hierophant]

[This chapter is technically on-time, but it's also a few hours later than when I usually update. I'm very sorry if you were waiting for an update at that time and went away disappointed.]

Chapter Four - The Witch of Ryuudou Temple

"Wait! Uh, Rin, do we even have any idea what this Servant is like?"
Rin taps a long fingernail against her teacup, cheek squashed against the palm of her hand. "What would we need to know that for? We'll just deal with that as it comes. If the Servant is stooping to having to harvest human souls to get energy, her Master must not be very powerful, so it should be pretty easy to win there."
"It's not that. It's just – look, Rider said the Servant was a witch, right? That means she's using magic, so attacking her while she's in the Temple would be the same as attacking an unknown magus in her workshop. Wouldn't that be dangerous?"
You see Rin's eyes flick to the barred metal door below the stairs, the one that leads to her workshop. From the way her lips push together in a frown, you're sure you've got her there.
"You have a point, I suppose." She straightens and looks serious. "But we still have to deal with that Servant, one way or another. You said the issue is that we don't know what the Servant is like, right? Then the answer is that we have to scout it out before planning an attack."
"Scout?" asks Madoka. She looks scared, but her bright eyes are full of determination. "Well, if we're doing this to get a better chance at beating her, I suppose that's okay."
"That is acceptable," says Saber. "It's only natural to want to know about enemies before fighting them. I suggest we use Archer to scout out the area while I protect the two of you from any threats. Once Archer gives her report about the nature of the Servant in Ryuudou Temple, we can make a plan."
As usual, Saber's plans are perfect, and she is ready for war. No, almost eager for it. In contrast, Madoka just looks a little ill at the. whole prospect, like she was anticipating a trip to the dentist.
"Alright," you say. "You win as usual, Tohsaka." You intentionally use her last name instead of her first.
She flashes a dangerous smile. "Of course, Shirou. I'm going to go prepare my jewels. You should wait for me here." With that said, the school idol pushes herself up from the armchair and goes up the stairs with Saber, leaving you and Madoka alone.
There is silence. You play with the rim of your empty cup, and Madoka reties a crooked ribbon. Out of the blue, she looks at you and smiles in that angelic manner of hers, the tendrils of her aura rushing to reassure you and calm your nervousness about the upcoming trip to Ryuudou Temple.
"Thanks for siding with me, Shirou. I know you wanted to beat that witch."
Well, you could hardly go against her wishes when she looks like this, can you? "Uh, no problem. I was just wondering... do you have a weakness to magic or something? You didn't have a problem fighting Lancer and Saber, but you seemed quite nervous after Shinji told you the Servant was a witch."
For a moment you're sure you said the wrong thing, as she lowers her head and presses her lips together. "Oh! S-sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive subject."
But she waves you off. "No, it's okay, Shirou. You stood up for me, so you deserve to know." Madoka takes a deep breath.
"...I became a Servant because I wanted to make a wish. The priest told you that, right?"
You nod. "Yeah. I still don't know your wish, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"You should know!" says Madoka. "That's what we're fighting together for, after all!"

You don't know how to respond to that, so you keep quiet. She looks straight into your eyes, and for a moment you're struck by the sheer intensity of her willpower, the waves of emotion pouring off her, as though she's absolutely certain that it's her destiny to win the Holy Grail War and fulfil her greatest desire.

"...I'm afraid of witches because all my friends were killed by them. I fought so hard, but… I couldn't save any of them.

For some reason, you'd always assumed that Madoka lived a more or less normal life before becoming a Heroic Spirit. Knowing that she's been fighting even before the War, at such a young age, it makes you a little angry at the unfairness of the world. And even now, you can't help her. You're only an amateur magus with a crippled arm.


"So… when I had a chance to make a wish, I wanted to save everyone. They told me it was for the greater good, that by sacrificing their lives I was helping save the universe." She dabs at her eyes, then speaks fiercely. "But I don't want to have to choose! I want to save everyone. I don't want anyone to cry any more! That's my wish!"

For a moment, the memory of a man with black hair and black eyes and a gentle smile washes through your mind. You were sitting in the snow, then, watching the stars. And you remember what you said that day.

Acting almost on instinct, without thinking about how unnatural it is to touch an artificial god as though they were another human being, you lean forward and briefly embrace Madoka. "That's my wish too. Since young, I've wanted to be a superhero. I wanted to save the world."

She blinks up at you with wide eyes, a childish wonder trapped in them. "Really? That's your wish too?"

You nod firmly. "Yep. I guess we're both in accord. This way, we won't let anything stop us from achieving our mutual desire together."

She smiles at you, and just as you're about to say something else to cheer her up, you hear familiar footsteps thudding down the stairs of the Tohsaka manor. Rin and Saber descend together, the former cramming handfuls of jewels into her pockets.

"Ready to go?" asks Rin.

You glance at Madoka. "Yes," you say. "I think we're ready to hunt the witch."

-


The night before yesterday was cold; last night was cold as well. Tonight is no exception to the pattern. The moon is bare and clear, the pockmarks on its surface visible even to the naked eye.

You move in on the back of Ryuudou Temple. Madoka's keen senses spotted a samurai in a purple robe guarding the entrance, so Saber and Rin have peeled off to deal with him. Although he's certainly not the witch Shinji spoke off, he's still definitely a Servant. If you had to guess, you'd say that his Master and the witch's Master are allies together.

That said, you're hoping that the fight between Saber and the samurai - the sounds of which are audible even on the other side of the temple - will distract the witch-Servant long enough for Madoka to sneak into Ryuudou Temple and use the tome of Servants that Rin passed to you to get some information about the witch. If everything goes smoothly, you'll be able to bait one or both of them into using their Noble Phantasms and revealing their identities.

Madoka is currently perched on the wall that surrounds the compound, her skirt pooled around her legs as she squats down to offer you a lift up. You leap, and catch her firm hand. She yanks upwards with inhuman strength, and hauls you up to the top of the wall.

"Can you see the witch from here?" you whisper.

She shakes her head, and turns to scan the compound once again. It looks empty and dusty, save for the occasional flash of steel near the entrance as Saber clashes with the samurai. Maybe the witch has left to feed on more souls. That wouldn't be a bad outcome either - after Archer attacks the samurai from behind, it would be easy to disarm and capture him, which deprives the witch of a valuable ally.

"There's a Boundary Field around this place," she whispers back. "If I go in, I'll drop at least one rank in all parameters. It'll be dangerous to fight like this."

Right. Saber said the only way to get in without being crippled was to use the main gate. That would explain why the samurai is guarding it. You open your mouth to reply that she should try to keep a watch on the compound without entering and having her magic dampened, but before you can, she spins around and fires a shimmering arrow into the darkness of the forest.

"Come out, witch!" she shouts.

In response, mocking laughter echoes out the shadows of the trees, and a woman appears from the woods, hovering casually in the air. Her face is covered by a black hood that flows into a robe, and she spreads her hands wide in a mockery of formal introduction.

"Little girl, don't you at least have the politeness to call me Caster?"

In response, Madoka fires a volley of arrows towards her. Caster raises a hand, and the arrows freeze in midair like flies caught in amber. Another gesture, and they're shattered into tiny sparkling pieces.

"What an insignificant little fool." With those contemptuous words, the folds of Caster's robe spread out horrifyingly wide, like the wings of a demon stretching out. She murmurs a word you can't quite make out, and discs of purple start to glow over the wings, increasing in intensity until the amount of magical energy they're putting out threatens to make you sick.

Before Madoka can do anything, bolts of indigo energy lance out from the discs. Three whip by her harmlessly, but two strike the section of wall she was crouching on, blasting it straight off, and two more strike her in the face and stomach, sending her flying backwards and into the compound.

She skids backwards into the dust, hand clutched protectively over the gem at her neck, and struggles to stand. Her bow, sent flying away by the force of the energy, dissolves into light and returns to her hand. With bruises on her hands and a cut over one eye, she raises her arms once more and sends another arrow at Caster.

But even an amateur like you can tell that the arrow's far weaker than before, creating only a tiny speck of light as it hits the invisible barrier that Caster conjures.

The Boundary Field. It's weakening her. That was why she was injured even by the initial blow from Caster, despite her strong endurance against Lancer.

You leap into the compound without thinking and run to Madoka's side. Caster floats slowly towards the two of you, the amateur magus and his wounded Servant, and you swear you see a smile cross her painted lips.

"How amusing. I wanted to catch a tiger, but I only found a couple of rats."

Another wave of bolts come down on you, Madoka standing in front of you like a bulwark against the hail. Something flashes in Madoka's hands, and arrows spiral around her, swooping as she fires so fast that her hands blur. They curve in unnatural arcs, homing to intercept the bolts and detonating them before they hit the ground.


One bolt slips through, striking the ground at Madoka's feet. The two of you are thrown back again, and you feel sticky wetness on your skull and a burning sensation raging in your crippled arm. You glance to the right, and see Madoka crumpled on the floor, the shining teardrop jewel on her neck the only indication she's still alive.

To your left, you see Saber tumbling down the steps violently. The samurai straightens, and assumes a ready position with his ridiculously long sword. Saber reaches a gauntlet out to halt her descend, pulls herself to her feet and snarls something. The samurai stands unfazed, a stoic guardian blocking her path. No help from that quarter.

Finally, you glance up again, to see Caster hovering in the air, advancing mercilessly. Her indigo discs are starting to glow again, increasing in intensity, and you aren't sure you can survive the next barrage.

[ ] Write-in

 

[Hierophant]

[This is an interlude; it does not advance the main narrative in any way. I mostly wrote it for fun, and so you wouldn't go without a chapter while voting on the last. Voting closes in 4 hours, so if you've been waiting up til now to vote, do it.]

Interlude – Last Moments
The Once and Future King
She leans against the oak tree, watching the night that has not yet reached dawn. Her sword lies between her bare hands; her gauntlets have been stripped off and flung to the floor. Here she lies, her breaths slow and even, blood oozing out of a dozen mortal wounds.

The sword is beautiful, carved with inhuman fairness and as golden as autumn leaves. Lines are etched down the blade, written in a script no human alive can read. Its holy blade is stained with the blood of the innocent. No water can wash that blood away. No fire can cleanse it. There are only two beings who have the right to lay hands upon that sword. The first is dying, and the second will claim it soon.

Until that moment, the sword is marred.

She accepts that. She accepts the fact that she will never see the golden sword pure again, bathed in water and light. She accepts the endless hills of bodies that she walked on. She accepts that soon, she will no longer be there any more. No longer able to protect those she has sworn to rule over.

"Bedivere," she says. In the stories and legends that surround her death later, she will be described being as strong and valiant on the verge of death as she was in the prime of her life. They are false. Her voice is raspy with thrist, broken with pain. The syllables are barely audible.
Still, her knight attends her. He is armored in gray, and is unscathed from the battle. He drops to one knee before her, but is forced to lean forward to hear her whisper.

"Bring it to the Lake."

"My King?" In truth, the knight is not surprised at her words. But he despairs at the idea, for he knows that if he follows his king's final command, there will no longer be hope for her. Even the purest of sanctums will not save her, then.

"Bring it to the Lake."

The knight cannot disobey. He reverently takes the sword from her hands, and leaves to carry out her final command, leaving her to lie alone under the tree.

She clasps trembling hands together, closes her eyes. Four words, spoken in a whisper. They will not be recorded in the stories, nor written down in histories.

"I regret becoming King."

And something touches her, not in body but in the depths of her mind. Something vast enough to make mountains look like pebbles, the greatest of empires like scurrying ants.

"What is your wish?"

At that moment, she cannot tell if she is seeking the holy grail, or whether she has finally found it. And so she responds, and the being replies.

"I accept."

At last she sleeps. It is not the final sleep; she will yet wake to see dawn come. But it is a sleep, and it brings with it dreams.

When the King finally opens her eyes, she is no longer under the tree, but standing in an empty church bathed in light.

The Hound of Ulster
He can still taste the dog meat, and he takes a deep breath, savoring it as he faces his death. The first bite had been bitter, and tasted of hatred. A chain upon his soul loosening, tearing off a piece of him as it did. With the second, he tasted the meat, the juice and gristle and fat. The third bite left his tongue bloody, and from the fourth onwards he tasted only laughter. What did it matter now, when he was already doomed?

The Hound licks his lips and laughs, raising his spear to match his opponent's. At the first, they trade blows, neither one's strength overcoming the other. At the second, the Hound falters, for there is a weight upon his arms that no man sees, and with a heavy kick his guard is broken. He readies his spear once more, but feels the sharp sting of pain through his chest before he can strike.

His enemy steps back reflexively, as though frightened that the Hound will, in his last moments, retaliate against him, drawing on some hidden reserve of strength. Foolish. The Hound knew he would die the moment he ate that meat. He laughs again, and when he heaves and feels his own blood spilling into his mouth, he is reminded once more of the taste.

The Hound falls, crashing to the ground, and still the enemy stays away. There are more now, like a pack of vultures, surrounding him. They do not move to kill him, but wait just outside the reach of his spear, watching. With blindly fumbling hands he lays hand upon a smooth obelisk of stone, and sees his enemies tense as he uses it as a grip to haul himself to a standing position.

He will not die fallen in the dust.

With the last of his chain he binds himself to the stone, his spine forced upright long after his feet have given out. His spear protrudes out of the dirt, point-down, too heavy for him to hold on any longer. None of the men circling him dare to move forward a single step, for fear of their lives. They have seen how ferocious he is, how dangerous the guard dog of Ulster can be even when half-dead.

The Hound's eyes follow the tracks of his blood, a long stream that fades into the banks of the river, almost like a second tributary. He sees the otter lapping at the blood, and smiles at its greed. The Hound dies then, surrounded by foes, but he dies upright. None of them dare to step forward until a raven lands upon his shoulder and begins to peck his eyes out. Only then do they move, tentatively, to reclaim the body.

On the other side of the world, thousands of years removed in time, the Hound lives again, enlightened. He peels his lips back in a grinning snarl, and asks the woman with red hair if she is his Master.

The Gatekeeper of Olympus
"Burn it!" he shouts. He can feel the poison eating into him, burrowing into his skin and through his flesh like black veins, like writhing snakes. It feels like he's having his skin scraped off and the raw flesh set ablaze, sending his muscles into screaming spasms.

Only fire can purify fire. "Burn it! Now!" he practically screams the words, hunched over into a kneeling position from pain, teeth clenched and stinging sweat running down his back. He feels the logs beneath his bare feet, and hungers for the heat.

Iolaus steps forward grimly, holding a burning torch aloft in hand, slathered with pitch. The Gatekeeper looks his nephew in the eye, and a wordless silence passes between them before the torch comes tumbling down.

The pyre is set alight immediately, fire catching quickly in the dry noon heat. He fumbles forward, presses himself into the flames, quelling his instinct to pull away upon touching it. It is deathly hot at first, but cooler than his skin, and so he pushes himself into it unflinchingly.

He can feel his skin crackling, blackening. His lips crack open, but no blood flows out, only smoke. He can feel the smoke tunneling into his lungs, filling them up with toxic waste that he expels with a series of rumbling coughs. His flesh is beginning to smoulder and burn, but the poison still rages, unchecked.

The Gatekeeper screams as he feels his bones crack, the world stutter to black as the fire reaches his eyes. He feels the fingers of flame reach into his body, peeling aside slabs of hard muscle to reach into the network of nerves and blood vesesels that keep him alive. He feels them snap, one by one.

And then he is dead. The Gatekeeper knows not how he still thinks, how he still exists, but he knows without a doubt that he is dead. He sees a golden throne, and a golden grail, and wonders, for his eyes had been taken by the fire.

Then the grail speaks to him, and he listens, his mind filling with information like water into a pitcher. Rules, boundaries, parameters. Knowledge of technology, a strange barbaric speech. And finally anger, the madness that took him so often throughout his life, seizing hold of him in its iron grip.
The Gatekeeper is flung through realms he does not know, doors he cannot understand, but when he reaches his destination it is unmistakeable. He is bigger than he is used to, the angle of his shoulders and the thickness of his legs wrong. But it is his body.

Metal chains bind his limbs, keep him afloat in mid-air like a slave. The madness takes him, and he roars at his captors. Raising his head to strike them with the gaze of the son of Zeus. They do not flinch.

A little girl steps foward, five or six at most, with pale hair and crimson eyes. She narrows her eyes, black swirling marks appearing on her cheeks, and he knows at that moment that he is bound by more than steel.

The Knight of Zero
He isn't used to the suit, the black mask that makes him feel as though he's inhaling and exhaling the same air. He isn't used to how tight it is, how the trailing cape folds over his heel when he tries to run. He hates the suit, and knows he will have to wear it for the rest of his life.

He can pinpoint the exact moment he's spotted. A shocked murmur that sweeps through the crowd, the honor guard grinding to a halt and deploying their Factspheres. And behind them, the rolling float, and the throne of Brittania.

Zero stands for a moment, poised to let his appearance sink in, and then he dashes. Machine guns sweep the road along his sides, blasting bullet holes into the concrete. He zigzags to avoid them, always an inch from death, feeling death whistle past over and over.

He leaps onto the first Knightmare Frame like a spider, using that leverage to propel himself upwards with inhuman strength, feeling the mechanical automation of the geass kick in to guide him through the steps, a black ghost sailing through the air. The Knightmare Frame raises its hand to crush him, but he has already leapt and fallen on the other side, ignoring the war machine in his single-minded frenzy.

Brittania's most loyal knight stands between him and the emperor, hair neatly combed apart and outfitted in white dress uniform.

"Don't fire!" the call rings clear, an ironclad order. "I'll kill him myself!"

A blade emerges from the sleeve of Jeremiath Gottwald, the man himself swiping with the speed of a machine. Not fast enough; Zero bounds over him, kicking him almost contemptously forwards to knock him to the ground.

He runs past the prisoners, shackled upright, and tries to avoid looking at their faces. Past Schneizel, bound and paraded like a trophy of war. A leap takes him in front of Nunnally, and it takes all the strength he has to ignore her, sprawled on the floor of the float. He focuses instead on his destination, up the slope of the float, and towards the throne.

Zero knocks away the pistol from the Demon Emperor's hand, swings his sword backwards in a dramatic flutter. The Emperor stumbles back, a look of shock on his face. Zero rights his sword, staring down the length of the blade, past the jewels set into it, and into the intense purple gaze of the Emperor.

The smallest of smiles crosses the tyrant's face, and Zero thrusts the sword forward, piercing through his imperial robes, through flesh and bone, stabbing through the heart of the enemy of the world. There can be no doubt that the wound is fatal.

It is one of the few times in his life that the man wearing the mask of Zero has cried. The force of the thrust ripples his cape behind him, as if it were a velvet flower coming into bloom. There is silence – the world is watching.

The Demon Emperor whispers, leaning his head forward, so close that only he can here.

"I lay this geass upon you."

Zero listens, and obeys.

"You will be the defender of justice and wear a mask forever."

He knows it is as binding as the order carved into his neurons.

"You will no longer be able to live as Kururugi Suzaku."

He knows then that he will die here, together with the Demon Emperor.

"You will sacrifice all of your own happiness for that of the world, eternally."

And Zero speaks.

"I accept this Geass."

From that moment on, he is dead. Only the hero of the world remains, the mask and not the man. He dies before ever unsheathing his sword from the body of the Demon Emperor, leaving only an ideal to carry on in his place. It is that ideal who will pull the sword out, who will lead the world in times to come.

The Knight of Zero dies. It is written so upon his tombstone.

 

[Hierophant]

Chapter Five - A World Where Nobody Has To Cry
Your sweater is thin, and soaked with sweat, and the night doesn't seem as chilly as it was before. Caster hovers above, her black hood rippling in the wind, her purple discs charging up once more. If you were Rin, maybe you could have done something to cancel her magic, here. Use a jewel or three, or some spell inherited through her Magic Crest.

But you only know one spell.

"Trace, on."

You grab hold of a loose stone in the hand that isn't crippled. The stone's covered with dirt, but it's smooth and the perfect weight. Light enough to throw, heavy enough to hit hard. Time seems to slow as you activate your artificial Magic Circuit, feel the familiar pain of the iron rod in your backbone sliding into place.

Basic structure, analyze. The stone is made of weathered granite – you store that information within your mind, picturing it as clearly as possible.
Composition, analyze. It's smooth and oval, perfect for skipping. Years of enduring the cold has made the stone craggy; you can feel the effects of erosion warping its natural atomic structure.

Basic structure, alter. You feel the magical energy seep through your finger tips, squeezing into the microscopic cracks in the stone's surface, filling up the spaces in its structure like a sentient liquid.

Composition, reinforce. The structure shifts, bonds with the magical energy, and the stone glows with a sudden light.

This all happens in the space of a couple of seconds, and the moment you feel that the reinforcement was successful, you fling your arm forward and hurl the stone straight at Caster in a perfect arc, gleaming like a magical grenade. If only it was that powerful.

Your rock strikes Caster at the base of her throat, and to your surprise it disrupts the glowing discs, causing them to wink out instantly as Caster clutches a hand to her collarbone. Well, you did throw it with enough strength to knock a regular person out, if it cracked them on the skull, and it's true the stone is reinforced, but even Madoka should have shrugged that one off.

Still, you aren't about to ignore such a blatant opportunity. You grab Madoka's hand and roughly haul her to her feet, half stumbling and half dragging her to the temple entrance. Her eyelashes flutter slightly, then she wakes up fully and stops pulling the weight of her body against you, starting to run for the exit along with you as well. She blinks blood out of the cut on her eye, and sports a noticeable limp, but it's better than nothing.

"You arrogant rat!" shrieks Caster, from behind. There's a note of shock in her voice, too, at the fact that you used such a mundane object as a weapon against her. "How dare you!"

You take a quick glance backwards to see her rotating her two palms together and separating them. Sand falls in a stream from her palms, the crushed remains of your reinforced stone. Madoka tightens her grip on your hand.

It's going to be alright. You can't tell if that was your own thought, or something sparked by her presence, or something that she said. Maybe it was a mix of all three. You continue running, one foot in front of the other. The samurai is still standing at the gate, his back to you, speaking in a light tone to Saber.

Caster raises a hand, pale fingers curled into claws. "Aero," she speaks, infusing the word with power that makes it seem to reverberate in the dark. You can't see anything, but you feel something vast and evil whip towards you. Like a breeze that brings locusts and famine, concentrated into needle-like lengths by the spiralling threads of Caster's magical energy.

You try to roll to the side, but the spell is wide and your forward momentum leads you to botch the roll, tripping over your own ankle and collapsing once more to the floor instead. The spell comes at you, inexorable –

– Of course, it is Madoka who saves you.

That is her nature. From the moment she blocked Lancer's fatal thrust, you knew. Since then, she has been acting to protect, acting as a deterrent to Shinji ordering Rider to casually gut you the moment you stepped into his house, her homing arrows sniping Caster's beams out of the sky.

For those three times she saved you, you've only saved her once in return. So much for being a hero of justice. And now she's cancelling even that out, putting her body between you and Caster's spell as if in repayment. Time grays out, and for a moment all you see is that perfect picture, Madoka frozen in midair, her ribbons seeming to float upwards, her expression a mask of determination and unshakeable faith.

Then Caster's spell strikes, and you learn why she is called a witch. It's magic far beyond the level of anything you or Rin could even dream of. A sledgehammer reinforced by you would bounce right off Madoka's little finger. Even one of Rin's jewels would merely budge her a little.
But this spell rips right through her, the wind shredding her lower half to mincemeat like an invisible razor fan. A couple of stray blasts of wind flick upwards and crisscross her face, but that's cosmetic damage at worst compared to the state of her legs and hip. Madoka's ankles, stockings and shoes are pulverized, her left leg destroyed up to the knee and her right reduced to a stump, fist-sized chunks of meat flying out of her hip. Everything below her stomach looks like crimson swiss cheese.

She drops like an anchor, shards of bone and tatters of pink dress scattered around her, slowly dissolving into nothingness as they lose the magical energy keeping their structure stable.

You can't think about anything other than that one frozen moment of her leaping at Caster, invincible in her flight. "Archer!" you cry, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know something is off.

She isn't weakened from having her lower body obliterated. In fact, her magical energy seems much stronger, as if the act of protecting her Master has granted her some second wind.

Caser floats closer, nearer to you. She must have sensed something as well, because you don't see triumph or gloating in her body language, only curiosity, her head cocked to one side.

"E-even... when we lose every drop of blood..." the voice is shaky, high-pitched. "Even... when all our bones shatter... when every ounce of flesh is stripped off our body... or when all our vital organs have all been taken to pieces... we'll still be able to fight. That's what he said."
Caster isn't sneering any more.

Steel sounds from the temple gates, as the samurai rebuffs Saber once again. It's oddly similar to the sound of Madoka duelling Lancer, her crystal arrows against his demonic spear.

Madoka raises her bow, and you feel it transforming into a vortex of energy. Like Gae Bolg had, only infinitely more graceful, more magnetic than anything. As if the universe itself was being distorted to grant it strength. She nocks an arrow, and its tip, as well as the ends of the bow, flare into purple fire, burning with the ferocity of a sun's core.

Caster raises her hand without mockery or arrogance, absolutely serious. She points carefully at Madoka's head with a long finger.
"I wish for a world where nobody has to cry," says Madoka. She means it, every syllable of it, and the words are charged with power that builds up as she utters the line, like a pendulum releasing force as it swings back and forth.

Seven glowing hexagons appear, grouped in a tight amethyst pattern around Caster's outstretched hand. You shoot a quick look at the temple gate, hoping maybe Rin has something up her sleeve, but she seems to be supporting Saber from behind, too far to reach you with anything.
Caster's beams and Madoka's overcharged arrow fire at the same time. There's a duality in it. Madoka, lying with her legs blown off, straining to sit upright, firing an arrow as pure as her heart. Caster, flying in the air like a bat from hell, firing a series of dark purple beams that reflect the corruption of hers.

The projectiles pass each other in midair, and the amethyst beams wink out in the wake of the arrow, vaporized by sheer magical force. Caster barely has time to shout a panicked curse before impact.

With a eardrum-shattering roar, the mana release explodes outwards in a pink flare that engulfs Caster like a nuclear blast. The shockwave cracks the top of the wall around Ryuudou Temple and sends pieces of earth and concrete flying upwards.

After long moments, the flare fades. Caster is no longer there.

Madoka lies on the ground, her innards spattering the earth. "I don't think the witch is dead," she says. "She just threw up a barrier and teleported away. And now she's seen my Noble Phantasm."

You stagger over to her. "Ma— Archer." Well, there wasn't really a point keeping her true name secret since she just unleashed a part of her Noble Phantasm, but still. She smiles at you. "I told you it was going to be okay," she says, laughing a little. "Um. I can't dematerialize here, so can you carry me out?"

Hard to do, as you only have the one hand, but you manage byr looping her arms around your neck and hefting her in a gruesome imitation of a bridal carry. The front of your shirt is rapidly soaked in blood as you walk, dripping ceaselessly to the ground.

You walk, slowly, out of the temple. The samurai at the gate is openly watching you by then, but oddly enough does not interfere. In fact, he looks amused by the destruction Madoka's arrow inflicted as he looks the pair of you up and down.

"Hmph," he says. "I'm only supposed to stop people from going in, so I guess there's no point challenging you. Saber, we'll finish this some other time."

"Another time, Assassin," she says from where she stands at the foot of the steps.

The moment Madoka leaves the confines of Ryuudou Temple she dematerializes, shimmering into an invisible cloud. She'll be heading to the magic circle engraved in the Tohsaka manor, the agreed-upon resting point for either of your Servants if they need healing.

You stagger to the bottom where Rin is, anxiety shot through her usually calm demeanour. "Don't look so frightened," you tell her. "We got the information about the witch."

To your great surprise, she gives you a crushing hug. "Idiot," she says weakly. "You nearly got killed."

But you shake your head. "No. There was never any danger. I knew Madoka would save me." Then you sag forward, crumpling into her arms, and darkness swallows you.
-
You wake up the next morning washed and dressed in clean clothing – you wonder how Rin managed that. Your... everything... still hurts, but at least you're able to roll out of bed and down the ornate stairs to find Rin having breakfast in her living room. She's eating strawberry jam with toast, carefully smothering each slice with a thick amount of jelly before crunching it in her mouth. Saber sits besides her, inhaling bacon and eggs.

"Western-style breakfast today, huh?" you comment, as you take a seat gingerly, wincing only slightly. "Doesn't look too bad." It doesn't taste too bad, either. The strawberry jam is just the right mixture of fruity and sweet.

"Yeah, that's what I usually like," she says. Then she pauses. "I don't want you to get things wrong. After all the other Masters are killed, we'll still be enemies. I hugged you just because of an accident, okay?"

You don't like the idea of having to fight Rin, but you already predicted that something like that would eventually happen. "Yeah, I already knew that," you respond.

She nods quickly. "Good. Just making sure we're both clear. You're an idiot about that type of thing." For some reason, the normally cheerful Rin looks uncomfortable. She quickly switches topics. "Anyway, Archer is still resting in the circle. She seems to have an incredible amount of healing ability, but she says it'll be at least a day before she can fight again. Saber can protect us in the meantime."

"Uh huh."

"I called Taiga-sensei and told her I found you unconscious on the road at night after falling from your bike. And I also told her I'm skipping school to take care of you today."

"That should do it," you say. "Normally no teacher would accept that type of excuse, but Taiga would have known I was missing when I didn't show up at my house today. Plus you have good grades, so you'll get a free pass."

"Stupid," she mutters. "Causing trouble for everyone. Doesn't even thank me." Despite the arrogant statement, Rin still looks perturbed over whatever she was thinking about. She clears her throat loudly. "What are you even going to do today?"
You think over your options carefully. You have a full day free, so you can do basically anything you want.

[ ] Pay a visit to the Matou estate.
[ ] Bring Saber along for protection. Rider is a scary Servant.
[ ] Ask Rin for training in magic.
[ ] Practice using reinforcement.
[ ] Go to the shopping district. (You have a budget of 22000 yen, or USD $200. You can purchase anything you want that you might reasonably find in a shopping mall, within budget.)
[ ] Bring Saber along for protection against attack by other Masters.
[ ] Patrol the neighbourhood with Saber and Rin to search for Masters.
[ ] Go to the church and talk to Kirei Kotomine.
[ ] What do you talk about?
[ ] Go to school anyway. (Takes up whole day)

Select three options. The first will be executed during morning, the second during noon, and the third during evening.

{Status page updated}

 

[Hierophant]

Author's Note - Chapter Releases
I should have said this earlier, but I'm going to put it out here now, so you don't get disappointed.

Tomorrow's chapter will be late. This is because I will be occupied with freshman orientation for my Polytechnic course. Yes, I'm starting school on Monday.

What does this mean for Fate/Constellation? It means I might not be able to do a chapter a day - that's an absolutely insane pace. I'm nearly doubling the daily NaNoWriMo word count.

Will I be doing a chapter a day? Well, I try. I love this story, and I'm honestly flattered by the amount of attention it's gotten. So whenever I can, I'll try to squeeze in some writing time and keep my upload pace steady. The main thing isn't churning out words, it's finding the time to virtually sit down with my editor Ambigravity and do a couple of thorough edits of the chapter. Doesn't help that our time zones aren't the best match.

Here's what I can promise you.

1) I will always tell you if an update will take longer than 48 hours after voting closes to be released.

2) I'll try my best to inform you of days that I'll be busy and may upload it a couple hours late.

3) I will always, at a bare minimum, crank out 2 chapters a week. If for some reason I really can't, I'll give you something to read, like an Interlude or omake. I don't want to be a lazy QM.

4) I'll try my level best to update chapters as fast as possible. It's entirely possible that you'll get a chapter a day still if it turns out that my new school life isn't too hectic.

I hope this schedule is satisfactory. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience.

 

[Hierophant]

[Orientation went off pretty well, and I got ahold of my timetable so I should be able to predict when I can upload daily chapters. Monday and Thursdays are busy, so it's unlikely that I'll be able to get a chapter up then. Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays are all good enough that I should be able to upload chapters as usual. Weekends should be fine as well.]

Chapter Six – An Unexpected Meeting
You're in Tohsaka's basement, crouched over the magic circle etched onto her desk. It's dim, and kind of suffocating, but the presence of a few antique lamps helps brighten the room. Over in the corner is the summoning circle that Madoka's recuperating in. She'll be back in shape by tomorrow, but for now she's still healing the wounds she took in the battle against Caster.

Caster... what a dangerous opponent. She was in a league of her own.

You're not arrogant enough to think that you beat her by skill. It was mostly luck, the element of surprise and the fact that she didn't know about Madoka's uncanny ability to continue moving even with most of her body destroyed. A single beam from her could easily vaporize a house, and she was firing them en masse with casual ease.

"Oi! ...Focus, will you?!" Rin swats the back of your head. "What do you think you're doing, letting your attention drift like that? That's the sort of mistake that leads to your head getting blown off, idiot!"

As much as it hurts, you know she's right, so you mumble an apology. You envision the iron rod sliding into your backbone once more, magical energy pulsing through it. Rin took one of the lamps and gave it to you to use as practice, so you focus on that.

According to her, she wanted to see how good you were at strengthening things so she could tailor her lessons to your level of skill. You don't quite see how that works out, but she's the boss.

The lamp's blueprints leap into your mind, an instinctive knowledge of its structure and components flooding your brain. You could draw a diagram of its parts blindfolded, with arrows to show the flow of magical strength throughout the lamp.

You draw strength from that burning rod, pour it into the lamp, and –

Too much. You overload it with magical energy, and the glass warps and shatters violently, sending a spray of glass shards flying outward. You bat the biggest piece away with your hand, and escape any injuries.

"...I cannot believe you are this bad at magic." Rin sounds dumbfounded, as though she's genuinely shocked. All the awkwardness from breakfast is gone, replaced with a strict sensei's demeanour. "I'm actually impressed you're able to produce any magical energy at all with such a ridiculous method. You complete amateur."

"Uhm... are you angry?" She certainly sounds angry, but you've long since learnt that making assumptions about Rin's state of mind based on how she sounds is a bad idea.

"Of course I'm angry! I'm amazed you've kept training with such basic problems. I want to kill your teacher for not correcting you. Why on earth are you using such a roundabout method?"

"Well... my father taught me magic, but he said that I shouldn't learn too much or I'd get sucked into a dangerous world. So I guess my lack of training is to blame."

Rin looks unimpressed at your explanation, folding her arms. "I guess we'll have to use drastic measures." She withdraws a can of candy from one of the drawers.

She keeps candy in her basement? No, more importantly, what sort of candy would she deem a drastic measure?

Rin takes one out and hands it to you. It's rock candy, unlike the soft chewy mints you're used to. "Eat this. Swallow it whole."

You obey, though it scrapes your throat raw, and wince at the feeling. "What sort of candy was that?"

"That's not candy, you idiot. That was one of my jewels."

"What – your jewels? How am I supposed to digest something like that?"

"Oh, don't worry." She smiles sweetly. Dangerously. "You don't have to digest it. It should melt by itself."

"What do you mean, it –"

A wave of simultaneous numbing and burning hits you. It feels like you're having a fever, but you've lost control of your body at the same time. A painfully hot lump swells in your chest, moving towards your back, where the "iron rod" you visualize during your reinforcement sessions is.
With slow, clunky movements, you manage to bring your hand up to your temples, rub them, while focusing on repelling the pain. It seems to help, and your vision clears a little. Rin stands a little bit away, watching amusedly.

You breathe out, slowly. The feeling in your limbs seems to return. "See, where you went wrong is that you were foolishly trying to construct a Magic Circuit in your body every time you wanted to do magic. That's both needlessly risky and needlessly difficult."

Now isn't the best time to give a lecture, Rin. You want to say that, but your tongue feels to swollen to speak.

"As you've been training in the wrong way for years, your Magic Circuit has remained unactivated, like permanently flipping a switch to off. This jewel should let you switch it on again. It should make it much easier to do magic now."

"I feel... sick..." You gasp and force the words out of your mouth.

"That's only natural," Rin explains. "You've never activated your Magic Circuit for real up til now, so all that magical energy running through your body is certainly going to be painful." She gets so much wordier when she's teaching.

"That makes sense, I suppose. Thanks, Rin," you say, but inside you're simultaneously gritting your teeth and letting out a gigantic sigh. First your arm, now this? It'll be a miracle if you get out of the Holy Grail War without getting a heart attack from all the pain. You're lucky your pain tolerance is higher than most.

Rin looks away sharply. "There's no need to thank me. I'm just helping you because the person I'm cooperating with is weak."
You smile amusedly at her embarassment. It's pretty cute that she's iron-willed enough to unhesitatingly go for the kill against even Servants, but can't even bear you to see you in mild pain.

She narrows her eyes, but grudgingly tips out a handful of gems from the jar and hands it to you. You count them – five in all.

"Normally these jewels could be used to activate an A-rank spell. But you're a really bad magus, so I expect that your attempts at using the jewels will result in a no better rank than B or C at most.If you ever need to use them, just overload them with magic and toss them at your opponent before they explode."

You're stunned by her generosity, and feel bad for your earlier schadenfreude against her. "Oh. T-thank you, Rin. This is... this is really excellent."
"Of course it's excellent! How couldn't it be excellent? I just want to help you beat Servants, that's all." That last part was a bit of a non sequitur, but before you can follow up on it, she thrusts another lamp at you, darkening the room a little bit more.

"Now that you've got your Magic Circuit open, try reinforcing this again. I won't stop until you succeed."

By the time you run out of lamps to break, the room is pitch-black, Rin has her face buried in her hands and you hastily excuse yourself to go buy groceries for lunch.
-
The shopping district is filled with the chatter of housewives coming and going with bags of groceries. Delivery boys cart boxes of food on the back of rickety bicycles, and the occassional salaryman drops by one of the ramen stores for a quick bite before returning to work.
You decide to make spicy shrimp dumplings in order to make it up to Rin for breaking all her lamps. Your ingredients are selected with great care – pork, soy sauce, sesame oil, ginger, garlic, cabbage, and of course the shrimp and flour. It takes a while for you to pick out ingredients you're satisfied with, and it's nearly two by the time you leave the supermarket.

Next up, you decide to stop by the local hardware store. You can still feel the roughness of the rock as you clenched your good hand painfully around it, desperately attempting to reinforce it as a last-ditch weapon to distract Caster. After speaking with Saber and Rin, you've decided to grab some equipment to better arm yourself with next time, rather than relying on random rocks.

After the shopping trip, you don't have that much money left, but you withdraw some cash from your savings account to buy some basic gear. A beginner's archery set with a cheap plastic arm-guard, an extendable baton from the self-defense section and finally a leather motorcycle jacket that you picked out. It's not expensive, and it looks good on you. You wonder if Rin will like it.

You carry the archery set and baton in a bag along with the other groceries, slip on the motorcycle jacket and set off back home. The disastrous attempt to reinforce lamps earlier means that you need more practice with your newly "activated" Magic Circuit. You'll get out your usual scrap metal tools in the garage and train twice as long in the evening; there's no use buying all this gear if you can't reinforce it for use against Servants.
As you crest the top of the hill and walk towards the Tohsaka manor, shifting and sweating under the sun and the weight of the bags, you notice a small figure in the otherwise deserted street. It looks like a little girl idly playing around, dancing up and down the street.

But she's not dressed like a little girl. She's garbed in a purple suit, with an odd little hat on top. As you draw closer to her, you realize she's an albino; her skin and hair are both white as snow, and her eyes are pigmented red. Her back's turned to you, and she seems to be laughing as she twirls around in the empty road.

Wait, an empty road? A vivid picture of a truck roaring down the street suddenly and smashing her to pieces flashes into your mind. With a little alarm, you jog towards her, hoping to warn her away from the road. It's usually pretty quiet at this time of day, but cars still pass by occassionally.
As you near, she suddenly spins around looks you straight in her face. The smile never leaves her lips, instead growing wider. With a start of surprise, you realize you've seen her before. That's the odd girl who told you that you were going to die when you were coming back from work, days before you met Madoka.

Belatedly, you form a connection between her cryptic words and odd appearance, but it's too late. She spreads her arms wide, and two strands of her long hair elongate and twist into the rough shape of white doves, flapping their wings and orbiting around her head in a dizzyingly complex pattern.

She's a magus. Most likely a Master.

"I've been looking for you for so long, onii-san," she chirps. "You weren't outside your house when I waited, so I thought you were a coward and ran away. Turns out you weren't after all!" She giggles lightly.
You need to do something, before she realizes that you have no magic to defend yourself with. Even worse, she might have a Servant accompanying her in spirit form, and if she summons that, you're dead for sure. Madoka isn't around to save you this time.

[ ] Crush one of Rin's jewels and toss it at her, then run for your life. Even an amateur like you can tell that she's way too powerful to fight.
[ ] As powerful as she might be, she's still physically a little girl. Crush one of Rin's jewels and toss it at the albino, then grab the baton and charge. All you need to do is knock her out before she can order her Servant to attack.
[ ] Try to engage her in conversation. She doesn't seem to want to kill you right now, or she would have attacked already.
[ ] With a surge of willpower, you bring Madoka to you. Only a Servant can deal with a Servant, and Madoka seems to have an aptitude for getting you out of trouble. (Uses Command Seal)

 

[Hierophant]

Chapter Seven - The Daughter of Winter
Your tongue seems to have twisted itself into a knot, but you force the alarm down and finally manage to convince your brain to let you speak.
"Ah... h-hello there."

"Hi!" she says brightly. When she laughs, it's surprisingly childish, long strands of white hair blowing over her lips and being pushed away with a flick of a pink tongue. "I almost mistook you for one of those gossiping housewives."

Do I need to fight her? You clench your fists, and hope the answer is no. Those glowing white birds can swoop way faster than you can run, and charging at the girl would be suicide; she's clearly a gifted magus, to be able to casually perform a feat that would have taken you hours with a, ruler, carving knife and book of rituals.

"I, uh, almost mistook you too. You look a bit like a snow fairy."

"A snow fairy?" her red eyes widen. They're not blood-red, but pinkish, as if diluted. "That's... pretty. But childish. I didn't expect onii-san to be so weird. Maybe our ages should be reversed."

Oh, shit. Did you piss her off? "Uhm, no, I was just commenting that you look like that in the sunlight."

"Oh? Then thank you for the compliment!" she flashes a wide grin, then dances closer to you and sweeps the edges of her skirt wide in a perfect curtsy. "My name is Illyasviel, by the way. Illyasviel von Einzbern."

Einzbern, huh? You remember that name from a long discussion you and Rin had about the origins about the Holy Grail War. It had gone on well past midnight, and ran on until she finally ran out of things to explain. According to her, the Einzberns were one of the three major magic families in Fuyuki, and with Rin the only descendent of the Tohsakas and the Matou line dead(a certain blue-haired boy aside), the Einzberns would be the most powerful magi around.

You aren't sure how to react, so you settle for introducing yourself in turn. "I'm Shirou. Emiya Shirou."

"Shirou, huh?" she puts a finger to her lips and stares up as if deep in thought. "I like that name. Sounds very aloof." Suddenly, she changes the subject.

"Have you seen Caster roosting in the mountain temple? There was apparently a big fight there, but I didn't go. I think she wants to kill my Berserker."

Hearing that, you relax a little bit. That comment told you two important bits of information about her. Firstly, she wasn't briefed on the details of the fight, or she'd surely have realized that you were there. Secondly, her Servant is Berserker-class. Kotomine and Rin both agree that Berserker-class Servants are usually weak, sacrificing sanity for a chance to shore up their lack of strength. If Illyasviel's Servant really is that weak, he or she should stand no chance against Madoka's Noble Phantasm.

"Yeah. She's the one hurting all the people around the city, right? I'll deal with her soon." It's technically true. You neglect to mention that you've already been once, and that Rin will be going with you.

Illyasviel merely hops around on one foot and skips two steps away from you. "I don't think you'll have a chance to do that."

"Huh? Why?" The unexpected statement catches you off-guard.

But she answers your question with a question. "When I woke up today, I had a nice hot bath. Do you know what I was thinking when I got out of the bath?"

"...What?"

"I was thinking about how today was the day I'd exterminate the last of the Emiyas. And it came true! Degen!"

The birds swoop high overhead and shift into daggers of glowing light. Illyasviel's expression never changes, but she gestures subtly at you and they stab down in a diagonal X pattern centered on your heart. Something about Illyasviel's tone must have tipped you off, because you leap backwards without thinking, and the daggers miss, lodging themselves in the ground instead.

...You never expected the girl to turn from chatty to violent that vast. The strength of her magic is absolutely unparalleled; Rin on her best day couldn't hope to match Illyasviel as she is right now. Even a tiny spell like that, sent to finish off an unarmed amateur, struck with so much magical energy behind it that it left fissures spreading in four directions from where the daggers struck the ground. The spots themselves were scorched and burnt, chunks of concrete blasted away.

"Good reflexes," compliments the girl. "Again. Degen." You expect the daggers to turn into birds and fly up again for another pass, but they melt away instead, and two more appear floating beside her. You're ready for her now, however. Even as she starts to speak, you're already whispering "trace on" into thin air, so quickly it's a mumble. You hug the sleeves of your motorcycle jacket close to yourself, and feel it stretch and toughen.

It definitely isn't a good enough barrier to protect against the daggers. Strengthening increases the capability of an object to do its job, rather than just making it stronger or harder like most people expect. Since a motorcycle jacket is meant to protect riders against wind and cold, using reinforcement on it will just make it thicker and warmer. Any protection it grants will merely be a side effect of that.

But it definitely doesn't need to be that strong. Just thick and tough enough to catch the daggers instead of getting pierced straight through. As Illyasviel gestures for the second time, you turn your lame arm away from her, using your good hand to rip off your jacket and fling it as hard as you can at the onrush of the twin daggers.

The daggers stab through the leather of the jacket like paper, but as you'd hoped, their hilts don't. The daggers catch on, their momentum carrying them straight to you. For an absurd moment, you're reminded of an invisible charging bull, the blades poking through the jacket as horns through a matador's cape.

As the jacket is flung back at you once more, you reach out and snatch it out of the air, using your firmly implanted stance to weather the force of the daggers, the jacket billowing out to lighten the slam as it hits you. A particularly strong gust of wind, no stronger. The daggers dissolve, and you have your jacket again, with two ugly gashes through it.

You can feel the effects of the reinforcement start to fade. It was a rushed spell, and you were surprised it even worked in the first place. Still, you can't help but feel inordinately proud of yourself. You've survived an attack by an enemy Master without a friendly Servant around to save you. If Kiritsugu was right and being a magus entails living a life of war, then coming out of this alive would be your first step towards becoming one.

A jangle in your pocket reminds you that you still have Rin's jewels stashed away, but the albino girl seems to have stopped, so you decide not to use your ace in the hole just yet. Illyasviel stares at you, her fine features birdlike in the noon chill. Did she summon constructs in accordance with the way she felt? Birds when she was dancing about freely, daggers when she developed an intent to kill?

"Onii-san, you really are weird," she laughs. "I thought you were an amateur from the moment I first saw you. Your magical power is close to none, and you only had one arm with which to cast spells." Her gaze briefly jumps to your bandaged arm, before moving back up to meet your wary look.

"But you survived four of my spells. So now I'm really curious about you. "

"Illyasviel, I –"

"Call me Illya," she says. "You're my onii-san, after all."

Um. Right. It couldn't hurt. "Illya, why are you fighting?" It's a stupid question, an awkward question, one that will more than likely earn you a dagger in the gut. But you can't help asking, not after seeing how happily she skipped along the middle of the road. In that moment, she reminded you of Madoka.

Illya frowns at you. "It's what I was raised to do, after all. My grandfather told me to be a Master, so I did."

It was the answer you were afraid of. Talking about killing you with such a cheerful expression, fighting just because she was told... she doesn't understand the consequences of the Holy Grail War at all. To her, it's just a game. And even worse, it's not a game she entered by choice, but one she was told to enter.

"Have you ever – have you ever thought of quitting the War? Giving up your Servant?"

You expected her to react with incredulity, but she looks contemplative instead. "Give up Berserker? No way. But… well, I don't really like my grandfather, so I guess I can quit the War if you'll agree to be my second Servant. That's okay, right onii-san?"

...It's an insane idea. You'll never be able to agree to that. If you sacrifice your life, your place in the Holy Grail War, you'll have no chance of seeing your wish come true, of being a hero of justice.

Regretfully, you shake your head. "No, Illya. I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

She scowls. "Fine. If you won't help me, I'll just have to kill you. Zelle! Degen!" Before you can even react to this abrupt change of attitude, two of the flapping birds and a dagger appear in front of her.

You don't know what the birds do, but Illya probably isn't going to fall for the same trick a second time. She'll most likely have some means of destroying or circumventing the same trick of using a reinforced jacket to halt an attack. You shove a hand in your pocket, clutch a jewel tightly, and glance down at your Command Seals. Three in all, which means you won't be in too much trouble if you use one here. In fact, it might turn the tide of battle, since Illya doesn't seem to have a Servant with her, relying solely on her magic to attack you.

Then there's a whooshing sound and the blaring shriek of a car horn. Illya jumps, looks over her shoulder to see a souped-up yellow sports car zooming straight at her. Acting solely on instinct, you grab her as you leap out of the way, crashing to the pavement and very barely missing the screeching tires as the car goes past. A tattooed guy with spiky hair leans out and yells something incoherent as he drives past, probably asking you what the hell you two were doing in the middle of the road.

Illya stands up, then pats your head as if you were a pet dog. Slim hands brush dust off her dress. "Thank you. I guess I'll have to go now, since someone already noticed us."

The birds and dagger dissolve into specks of light. "Goodbye, onii-san. I'll see you again." Her furious look is gone, replaced by a cheerful smile. "Berserker, take me home."

As you watch, the largest creature you've ever seen materializes from the air. A giant figure with lead-colored skin and muscles that threaten to rip right out of his body. He casually hefts a sword bigger than your entire body, made solely from jagged rock, and lifts Illya with his free hand. Without even glancing at you, he takes off running, his footsteps cracking the pavement with each impact. They move frighteningly fast, disappearing to blurs in moments.

When both Berserker and Illya are long out of sight, the adrenaline in your body finally falters. You drop to your knees, sweltering with the exertion, glad you took of your jacket. Rin will not be pleased when she hears about this.

-

Rin was not pleased when she heard about it. "An Einzbern? You mean one of their homonucli?"

You gulp down shrimp dumplings, savoring the spicy taste. Food always tastes better when you make it yourself. "I'm not sure what you mean, but she looked about six or seven years old, and wore a purple outfit."

"Six or seven... yeah. The Einzbern homonucli never age. She must be their chosen Master for this war. You said she used daggers and birds?"

You swear Saber's lips twitch slightly as Rin says that last line. The normally ravenous Servant has had little appetite since you started talking about your encounter with Illya.

"Yeah, those two. Saber, is there something wrong with the food?"

The blonde Servant looks surprised. "No. There is nothing wrong, Shirou." She dutifully resumes eating, though at a much slower pace than usual. Maybe you used too much lettuce in the dumpling.

"Can I ask something?" Madoka doesn't talk that often during meals, especially during strategy discussion, but when she does it's usually something worth hearing. "If this new Master summoned her Servant to bring her home, why didn't she just order Berserker to attack you? I mean... you aren't weak or anything, Shirou, but you'd definitely die against a Servant without me around."

Amazingly, the pink-haired girl seems to have regenerated her entire lower body already. According to her, the magical gem at her throat and her status as a heroic spirit made it easier. She didn't have to regrow her liver or kidneys, for example, since she didn't need those at all.

"Well, I noticed that too. I was thinking that maybe she held back for some reason. Maybe she didn't want to see me dead."

Madoka smiles. "I bet she didn't really want to kill you, Shirou. She's just a little girl, so she must be scared to fight for real. We might even be able to convince her to work with us if we visit her."

"The Einzbern Master?" asks Rin. "I don't think that will work. If she's a little girl, they'll definitely keep her under their thumb. Besides, I was hoping to go back to Ryuudou Temple now that Archer's healed. I have some scores to settle."

Beside her, Saber nods firmly, Master and Servant both in harmony. You feel a sense of deja vu. The four of you arguing over where to go after dinner, Saber and Rin in favor of attacking Ryuudou and Madoka disagreeing. The last time, you'd grudgingly agreed to go to scout the place out, and look where that got you.

Still, Rin's suggestion has some merit. Illyasviel von Einzbern is a virtual unknown. A mysterious albino with incredibly powerful magic. You have no idea what her satellite birds do, or what her Servant's Noble Phantasm might be. Besides, you don't know where to find her. At least with Caster and Assassin, you have a rough idea of their capabilities. You've experienced Caster first-hand, and Saber managed to discover Assassin's identity.
You stall for time by gulping down another dumpling, but you'll have to make a decision sooner or later.

[ ] Visit Ryuudou Temple again. Saber claims she can handle Assassin, and you can always have Madoka blast Caster again if the witch shows up.
[ ] Try to locate and talk to Illyasviel von Einzbern. She's a little girl with no part in the War, and if anyone can convince her to work with you four, it's Madoka, the girl who inspires hope just by being near others. Besides, her Servant is supposed to be a subpar one boosted by class abilities.
[ ] Write-in.