Fate-Dovahkiin
Prologue: The Beginning
Life can be cruel, especially to those who do not...
Prologue: The Beginning
Life can be cruel, especially to those who do not...
Fate-Dovahkiin (Elder Scrolls V Skyrim / Fate Stay Night)
- Thread starter White Wyvern57
- Start date
- Crossover
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 70
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 2
-
Statistics (2 threadmarks, 3.8k words)
User Total White Wyvern57 2
Prologue: The Beginning
- Location
- Colorado Springs, Colorado USA; also is a coconut
- Pronouns
- He
Fate-Dovahkiin
Prologue: The Beginning
Prologue: The Beginning
Life can be cruel, especially to those who do not deserve it. Fate even more so, bringing two injured souls together only to tear them apart when they have finally healed and fallen in love. Such was the tale of Saber class Servant Arturia Pendragon and her Master Shiro Emiya during the Fifth Holy Grail War.
Two people who had been dealt an unfair hand in life, their bond of love forged in the fires of the Grail War, only to be forced to let each other go, despite wishing otherwise. It was only in death that they could ever meet again. Yet even that was unlikely, for it required Avalon to accept Shiro, seemingly an impossibility.
Yet, the tiniest pebbles can create the largest ripples. But for this instance, the pebble is a boulder that creates a tsunami. For Shiro discovers something about his true origins that would affect not only those around him, but also change the course of the Fifth Holy Grail War.
Hell on Earth. Those are the only words to describe what is occurring in Fuyuki City. The heart of the city is consumed by the flames of the Seven Hells, the very air thick with corruption and the stench of burning flesh. Normal everyday people having been caught up in the aftermath of a single man's decision, were panicking, for no warning was given for this nightmare.
As the fires rage around him, a single man with blood red hair attempting to aid others by casting a shield made of light aspected aether. This was for the group of survivors he was guiding to make a run for it, but the strength of the flames proved to be too strong as he is slowly being overwhelmed.
"RUN!" The man yells at those behind him, cracks appearing upon the arcane shield like a spider web, reaching out to the edges. "GO NOW!"
Everyone that could help the injured did as they all streamed out from the shield. Only one person remains, a young boy with the same blood red hair as the man, wearing a simple white and black t-shirt and blue jeans. The boy opens his mouth to argue, but the man interrupts him before words can be spoken.
"Shiro, listen to me!" Instructs the man. "There's something I need to give to you!"
The man hesitates for a second, but with a sudden hardening of his features preparing himself, the man takes one of his hands off the shield. Screwing up his face in concentration and with a brilliant flash of light a sword thrumming with power appears in the outstretched hands of the young boy. Etched into the blade just below the hilt are what appear to be runes of some make. These symbols of power almost appeared to have been etched into the metal by the claw or talon of some great beast.
But before Shiro can read the runes clearly there is another flash of light and an exquisitely designed sheathe appears. The same scratch mark-like runes were carved right below the blade's hilt would meet the sheathe. The word Krein resonates inside the young boy's mind, though he had no hint to the meaning.
"These are - and Magnus. They will aid you from now on, always keep them safe. Now run, I won't be able to hold these flames back for much longer!" The man shouts at Shiro over the roar of the hell fire and screams. He turns his back to the child with one last command. "GO!"
With wide shattered gold orbs, Shiro nods his head tears flowing through the ash stained cheeks as he sheathes - into Magnus, his feet carrying him away. The man breathes a small sigh, one that is never heard over the crackling of the flames. With the sound of shattering glass, the shield finally breaks.
"May the Eight and One watch over and keep my son safe," flashes through the man's mind as the vile flames consume him.
Sometime later...
Nature, it seems, has had enough of the accursed flames as water begins to fall from the sky. Leaving only a world of ash and debris of the heart of Fuyuki. Through this scene of devastation, a lone ash dusted figure staggers through the downpour as if they are an automaton.
How long has he been fumbling through this wasteland? The young boy can't tell, nor can he bring himself to care. All he feels is the pain in pulsing from his arms and legs. A dull empty ache in his chest as though...
Shiro crumples to the ground, sheathed sword still clutched tightly, as the corruption in the air from the fire finally takes its toll on him; mind, body, and soul. For as he had staggered through the flames, a malicious entity reached out, grasping at his memories, and for every step he took another thought intertwined with different emotions was stripped away from him. It was as though the entity were trying to burn away everything that made the boy human.
As the cold embrace of death starts to seep into his very being, something in his field of vision changes. A blurred humanoid shadow appeared, a man with a desperate air surrounding him, his hollow eyes flashing about looking for something, a rat's nest of darkness weighed down with the rain and streaked through with flakes of ash. When the man's hollow gaze meets Shiro's, a small spark of hope flickers across his face. The stranger then grasps Shiro's hand and miraculously the cold grasp of death gives way to the warmth of life.
"He's alive!" the man cries joyfully to the night. "He's alive!"
The sweet scent of honeysuckle slips through the stench of the burnt city washing it away and bringing with it a warm golden light. As it disappears Shiro feels life flow into his body, the feeling resonating with his very soul. As he looks up into the tear-filled eyes of the stranger, Shiro noticed the look of pure joy upon his face.
"I wish I could be that happy," is his last conscious thought before the darkness of sleep consumes him.
Unknown Location...
"It has begun?" A voice asked in the gloom of what appeared to be an immense underground ruin. It held a tone that spoke of countless years of watching the world, and held the weight of doing so.
The source of the voice happened to come from the only light source that lit up the being's surroundings. The outline of the owner taking a vague humanoid shape made of bright golden light, standing on top of a small pool of water that lay below a stone altar of some make. In the background to the right, the dim light of a forge's fire could be seen, still burning after countless eons.
"Geh, Nii Lost. Nunon, Til Los Aan complication." replied another voice from the darkness. One could tell there was an inflection of worry in in the second beings voice. It too held the tone of wisdom beyond its years, but not to the same degree as the first.
"What do you mean?" The light that made up the other entity was now fluctuating. It was as though the other words had instilled some sort of fear into it.
"Ok Jul Lost bled Ko Ok Dovah Sil." Responded the second voice, as with the shuffling sound of talons and scales a Dragon, with scales the color of freshly fallen snow and eyes an electric blue, came forth into the light.
"Nay that will not be a complication, my son. It will temper his urge to dominate those around him. That is something his world does not need."
"Then how Fen Ok Sil react Wah Fin Kosil Lein?" The Dragon questioned again in the same guttural growl of the language it knew to the very core of its soul.
There was a pause, one that seemed to stretch onward for what felt like hours, until...
"As to that...¦ I do not know." The being of light answered honestly. Soon afterwards, it shoulders sagged as a sigh escaped from unseen lips.
"Why Drey Hi allow Daar Mun Wah Golt...¦?" the Dragon trailed off as if not wanting to insult or upset the being of light.
"Why? Paarthurnax… do I not care for all of my sons?" Instead of sounding upset, indeed from the way it sounded, the divine entity was more amused if anything.
"Geh, Father. But still, why?" The white dragon, Paarthurnax, persisted.
"... To save him from a path of ruin. And to also fulfill a pact made long ago between myself, a mortal king, and the spirit of the Welsh Dragon Draig."
There was a long pause, then the voice from the light asked, "I take it you will be teaching him the Way of the Voice.?"
"Geh, Bromahu."
"Remember, he cannot know of his status as my son and your brother until he has been trained for five years time, unless his life is in danger," the formless figure told Paarthurnax.
"I understand Bromahu."
"Then farewell my son."
With the sound of falling water, the being of light disappeared, leaving Paarthurnax alone once again to ponder things over in the semi-darkness.
Hello everyone! White Wyvern57 here! This is the first time I've posted a story on this site. Any feedback or constructive criticism would much appreciated! I will also accept advice on canon stuff, but if it gets out of hand I will ask the mods to lock the thread. So be warned.
Ok, going back to my nest for now! See you all later in another chapter or reply!
Ja ne!
Chapter One: Dreams, Training, and Decisions
- Location
- Colorado Springs, Colorado USA; also is a coconut
- Pronouns
- He
Hi all, White Wyvern57 here with another chapter for Fate-Dovahkiin.
Man did this chapter not want to come out from the idea pool I have in my head. Unfortunately, this is only a filler chapter, so it's not going to be very long. Still, I hope you guys enjoy it!
Now, let the story begin!
Shirou felt the heat from them before he saw them.
Flames.
All-consuming flames were everywhere. They covered the ground, the buildings, and the people caught in their wake. The smoke in the air, darker than the void, was thick and covered the entire city as it poisoned those that breathed the air. As if that weren't enough, there was also the feeling of an overbearing malice exuding from the both the fire and smoke.
The people in front of him were on running for their lives, as the flames consumed them, one by one. Soon enough, he was the only one left for the fire to take.
As the flames slowly inched towards him like some mockery of a predator, Shirou tried to run, but soon found that his feet were bound by the hands of those who had perished in the flames, their grip as strong as steel.
But. Before the flames reached him, a large shadow passed over Shirou as he heard the sound of wings and, with a landing that shook the surroundings, a winged and scaled creature landed in front of the wall of hellfire.
The flames suddenly came to a halt, as though stunned by the being shielding Shirou.
The beast then took a deep breath and, with a powerful roar that seemed to shake reality, banished the hell attempting to consume Shirou with a bright golden light…
Shirou's dream then changed.
The rest of that night Shirou dreamt of swords and a young girl with blonde hair and emerald green eyes filled with a fiery drive to succeed…
It was still raining. That was the first thing the red-haired boy noticed as he slowly stirred awake; his amber colored eyes slowly focusing on the roof above him. The sound of the droplets hitting the rooftop was unmistakable to his ears.
"It's just like That day," Shirou remembered bitterly. "The day of the fire…"
The current weather was not helping Shirou's mood. For just like the day he was rescued, Shirou was once again feeling hollow. No, it was better to say he was full of sorrow. For, the man who had rescued Shirou and then had adopted him after the fire orphaned him, Kiritsugu Emiya, was dead after five years of being in the young boy's life. It was a devastating blow to Shirou, who had admired and emulated him, despite them having a somewhat distant relationship due to Kiritsugu's frequent trips.
The funeral had been a small quiet affair; very few people had known Kiritsugu aside from those he interacted with daily in the past five years or the few he had kept in touch with. Meaning very few people aside from the Fujimura family.
That was a few months ago, and Shirou still hadn't gotten over it. Complicating matters even further was the fact that he was starting to have nightmares from the trauma of the Fuyuki fire again, like last night.
It was odd and jarring to say the least, as he couldn't remember much about the dream that chased away the memory of that day, save for perhaps one clear detail. He had remembered seeing a lonely blonde girl with eyes that shone like emerald fire, training relentlessly in the way of the sword, a determined frown upon her visage. Something about her made his heart beat just a bit faster…
Shirou gave his head a small shake, trying to clear out the thoughts about who that girl was. He had to get ready for school after all, or Taiga would beat him senseless in another Kendo practice spar.
Again.
Shirou shivered slightly. He liked Kendo well enough, but the way Fuji-nee did it was absolutely brutal! Although something about that thought was bothering him, but he just couldn't remember…
Then he remembered what was bothering him as he started making breakfast for himself and Fuji-nee. Lately he hadn't been doing any Kendo at all, not since the old-man had died. Shirou just didn't have the motivation or drive to do it anymore now that Kiritsugu was gone, but he had the funny sensation that some part of him was disappointed with himself for that decision.
A few minutes later, Shirou paused on his way out the front door, as the dream about the young girl training with a blade and the sheer determination she showed forced its way to the forefront of his mind. The remembrance of that fact caused a thought to strike him with the weight of a freight train. For he remembered the promise he had made to Kiritsugu, and how he was basically doing nothing to achieve that lofty goal by moping around.
He had promised Kiritsugu to be a Hero of Justice in his place. But how could he become one if he quit doing Kendo practice? It was something that would probably help him achieve that goal, after all.
Something in the back of mind and the depths of his soul growled in agreement to that thought process.
Taiga Fujimura, who had taken up the role as Shirou's guardian after Kiritsugu's death, was already outside. But when she looked around at him over her shoulder, a confused look appeared on her face, an umbrella held over her head.
"Is something wrong Shirou?" she asked him in concern.
"No, I was just thinking about something…" Shirou replied.
"Thinking about what?" Taiga probed further.
"I was thinking about a promise I made to dad, right before he died," came Shirou's response after a short pause. "And how he probably wouldn't want me to mope around because of him. So, I've made a decision."
"Decided about what, Shirou?" asked Taiga Fujimura, a confused frown still marring her face, and there was a hint of concern in her voice as well.
"I've decided to continue practicing Kendo" responded Shirou.
Taiga stood there stunned for a moment, and then she positively beamed at him.
"I'm going to need a sparring partner though." Shirou added sheepishly. "If you don't mind, will you be my opponent after school Fuji-nee?"
The grin that she gave him in response made him gulp. He felt he was about to be on the losing end of a rather one-sided Kendo spar later today.
Later that Evening…
Once dinner was over and Taiga had left for the day, Shirou let out a low groan in pain. He then stiffly moved to clean the dishes from said dinner.
As he had expected, Fuji-nee had been brutal during their Kendo spar, which had occurred sometime before dinner. Yet, despite that, he felt as if he were doing something worthwhile, something that he felt would help him achieve his dream.
"Still, she could've gone easier on me…" Shirou grumbled under his breath, as he winced in pain from a light bruise.
As he finished his menial but necessary task, Shirou checked the time. The sun was setting, painting the sky a myriad of colors. There was still some daylight left outside, but not for much longer.
He then sighed as he dried his hands off and muttered, "I'm going to have a long night ahead of me."
The scent of wet grass assaulted his nose as he exited the house to the small backyard. But he wasn't worried about getting wet. After all, it had stopped raining outside during the afternoon.
There was nothing in the yard, save for an ordinary wooden shed and a few trees and patches of grass here and there. But it was towards this lackluster building that Shirou now walked to, as if he had some hidden purpose in the shed.
Shirou then opened the shed door, and stepped inside, turning around only to close the shed door behind him.
The shed was very cluttered, with pieces of machinery here and there on the shelves, and some of the objects were on the floor. Hanging on the back wall of the shed was the unique item Magnus, the unknown blade still sheathed inside its scabbard.
As Shirou began to walk forward, a soft white light shined forth from the golden jewel set into the hilt of the blade. This jewel was carved into the shape of an asterisk style star, and with each step Shirou took, another pulse of light escaped from the precious stone. This light show, however, did not seem to bother or startle Shirou at all. It was as though it had happened before.
Suddenly, Shirou stopped in the middle of the room and sat down. He then assumed a meditative position and began to practice another skill set. One that he had been practicing for the last three years, ever since he had finally convinced Kiritsugu to teach him. One that he was still struggling with, even after three years of effort and dedication.
For you see, Shirou was a Magus, and as such he kept such information hidden from those he cared about to protect them. For the Moonlit world was full of dangers, beings that had refused to fade away into myth and legend for one, and the ethics of the Magi Associations for another. Something that Kiritsugu had not wanted Shirou to get involved in at that point in time.
Since most traditional Magi were borderline fanatical in trying to keep the existence of Mage Craft a secret, Shiro had to either practice at night or when he was working on repairing equipment and machinery (unbeknownst to the owners of said objects or his boss), lest he bring a reprisal down on Fuyuki.
One of the most notable purges had been Pompeii, which came as a great shock to Shirou, and had also made him feel sick and angry at the same time.
All of that information, mainly concerning the Magi Associations and the purges, had been told to Shirou by his other teacher. One who was probably older than most civilizations on Gaia, and had seen many things over his long-life span.
Speaking of which…
The light from the sword suddenly bathed the entire interior of the shed/Workshop, and Shirou had to close his eyes. Then, Shirou disappeared from the room with the light, as the teleportation magic imbued into Magnus activated.
When he felt it was safe to open them again, Shirou was met with a sight that was familiar to him after three years of training inside.
The cavernous ceiling of the ruin of a great city, carved inside a great mountain. It was sad, really to think of how many people once called this place home. Now it had fallen into disrepair, save for the great pillars of carved stone that reached towards the ceiling.
Shirou then began to walk forward to the center of the city and, consequently, the heart of the mountain. As he passed by the husks of ancient buildings, a tall structure suddenly loomed out at him from the gloom. It was the only building that still looked like it had just been finished being carved out of the mountain. This structure had the appearance of being both a place of worship, and a fortress.
Either one would work for describing its purpose. Carved stone sentinels lined the battlements, their details so precise they appeared to be alive. Atop the entrance, was a breath-taking statue of marble, carved into the shape of a massive two-legged dragon; wings spread wide as if in defiance, its eyes not the same white as the freshly fallen snow, as its body was, but a deep electric blue that seemed pierce into the depths of one's heart and soul. The doors of this grand structure were made from a silvery-blue metal, which Shirou opened without hesitation.
As soon as the doors had closed Shirou heard a deep guttural voice speak from behind him.
"Drem Yol Lok, Shirou Emiya," was what the voice said.
Shirou then turned around and smiled, responding with, "Drem Yol Lok, Sensei."
"How many times have I told you, you can call me by my name, young one," grumbled the voice in equal parts amusement and exasperation.
"Gomen." Shirou apologized. He then repeated the previous phrase once more.
"Drem Yol Lok…" Shirou hesitated for just a few moments before he finished the greeting with the other's name.
"…Paarthurnax."
So, there we are. Chapter one of the story is done. Hope you all liked it! Please read and review!
Well that's that. Time to RTN!
Man did this chapter not want to come out from the idea pool I have in my head. Unfortunately, this is only a filler chapter, so it's not going to be very long. Still, I hope you guys enjoy it!
Now, let the story begin!
Fate-Dovahkiin
Chapter One: Drams, Decisions, and Training
Chapter One: Drams, Decisions, and Training
Shirou felt the heat from them before he saw them.
Flames.
All-consuming flames were everywhere. They covered the ground, the buildings, and the people caught in their wake. The smoke in the air, darker than the void, was thick and covered the entire city as it poisoned those that breathed the air. As if that weren't enough, there was also the feeling of an overbearing malice exuding from the both the fire and smoke.
The people in front of him were on running for their lives, as the flames consumed them, one by one. Soon enough, he was the only one left for the fire to take.
As the flames slowly inched towards him like some mockery of a predator, Shirou tried to run, but soon found that his feet were bound by the hands of those who had perished in the flames, their grip as strong as steel.
But. Before the flames reached him, a large shadow passed over Shirou as he heard the sound of wings and, with a landing that shook the surroundings, a winged and scaled creature landed in front of the wall of hellfire.
The flames suddenly came to a halt, as though stunned by the being shielding Shirou.
The beast then took a deep breath and, with a powerful roar that seemed to shake reality, banished the hell attempting to consume Shirou with a bright golden light…
Shirou's dream then changed.
The rest of that night Shirou dreamt of swords and a young girl with blonde hair and emerald green eyes filled with a fiery drive to succeed…
It was still raining. That was the first thing the red-haired boy noticed as he slowly stirred awake; his amber colored eyes slowly focusing on the roof above him. The sound of the droplets hitting the rooftop was unmistakable to his ears.
"It's just like That day," Shirou remembered bitterly. "The day of the fire…"
The current weather was not helping Shirou's mood. For just like the day he was rescued, Shirou was once again feeling hollow. No, it was better to say he was full of sorrow. For, the man who had rescued Shirou and then had adopted him after the fire orphaned him, Kiritsugu Emiya, was dead after five years of being in the young boy's life. It was a devastating blow to Shirou, who had admired and emulated him, despite them having a somewhat distant relationship due to Kiritsugu's frequent trips.
The funeral had been a small quiet affair; very few people had known Kiritsugu aside from those he interacted with daily in the past five years or the few he had kept in touch with. Meaning very few people aside from the Fujimura family.
That was a few months ago, and Shirou still hadn't gotten over it. Complicating matters even further was the fact that he was starting to have nightmares from the trauma of the Fuyuki fire again, like last night.
It was odd and jarring to say the least, as he couldn't remember much about the dream that chased away the memory of that day, save for perhaps one clear detail. He had remembered seeing a lonely blonde girl with eyes that shone like emerald fire, training relentlessly in the way of the sword, a determined frown upon her visage. Something about her made his heart beat just a bit faster…
Shirou gave his head a small shake, trying to clear out the thoughts about who that girl was. He had to get ready for school after all, or Taiga would beat him senseless in another Kendo practice spar.
Again.
Shirou shivered slightly. He liked Kendo well enough, but the way Fuji-nee did it was absolutely brutal! Although something about that thought was bothering him, but he just couldn't remember…
Then he remembered what was bothering him as he started making breakfast for himself and Fuji-nee. Lately he hadn't been doing any Kendo at all, not since the old-man had died. Shirou just didn't have the motivation or drive to do it anymore now that Kiritsugu was gone, but he had the funny sensation that some part of him was disappointed with himself for that decision.
A few minutes later, Shirou paused on his way out the front door, as the dream about the young girl training with a blade and the sheer determination she showed forced its way to the forefront of his mind. The remembrance of that fact caused a thought to strike him with the weight of a freight train. For he remembered the promise he had made to Kiritsugu, and how he was basically doing nothing to achieve that lofty goal by moping around.
He had promised Kiritsugu to be a Hero of Justice in his place. But how could he become one if he quit doing Kendo practice? It was something that would probably help him achieve that goal, after all.
Something in the back of mind and the depths of his soul growled in agreement to that thought process.
Taiga Fujimura, who had taken up the role as Shirou's guardian after Kiritsugu's death, was already outside. But when she looked around at him over her shoulder, a confused look appeared on her face, an umbrella held over her head.
"Is something wrong Shirou?" she asked him in concern.
"No, I was just thinking about something…" Shirou replied.
"Thinking about what?" Taiga probed further.
"I was thinking about a promise I made to dad, right before he died," came Shirou's response after a short pause. "And how he probably wouldn't want me to mope around because of him. So, I've made a decision."
"Decided about what, Shirou?" asked Taiga Fujimura, a confused frown still marring her face, and there was a hint of concern in her voice as well.
"I've decided to continue practicing Kendo" responded Shirou.
Taiga stood there stunned for a moment, and then she positively beamed at him.
"I'm going to need a sparring partner though." Shirou added sheepishly. "If you don't mind, will you be my opponent after school Fuji-nee?"
The grin that she gave him in response made him gulp. He felt he was about to be on the losing end of a rather one-sided Kendo spar later today.
Later that Evening…
Once dinner was over and Taiga had left for the day, Shirou let out a low groan in pain. He then stiffly moved to clean the dishes from said dinner.
As he had expected, Fuji-nee had been brutal during their Kendo spar, which had occurred sometime before dinner. Yet, despite that, he felt as if he were doing something worthwhile, something that he felt would help him achieve his dream.
"Still, she could've gone easier on me…" Shirou grumbled under his breath, as he winced in pain from a light bruise.
As he finished his menial but necessary task, Shirou checked the time. The sun was setting, painting the sky a myriad of colors. There was still some daylight left outside, but not for much longer.
He then sighed as he dried his hands off and muttered, "I'm going to have a long night ahead of me."
The scent of wet grass assaulted his nose as he exited the house to the small backyard. But he wasn't worried about getting wet. After all, it had stopped raining outside during the afternoon.
There was nothing in the yard, save for an ordinary wooden shed and a few trees and patches of grass here and there. But it was towards this lackluster building that Shirou now walked to, as if he had some hidden purpose in the shed.
Shirou then opened the shed door, and stepped inside, turning around only to close the shed door behind him.
The shed was very cluttered, with pieces of machinery here and there on the shelves, and some of the objects were on the floor. Hanging on the back wall of the shed was the unique item Magnus, the unknown blade still sheathed inside its scabbard.
As Shirou began to walk forward, a soft white light shined forth from the golden jewel set into the hilt of the blade. This jewel was carved into the shape of an asterisk style star, and with each step Shirou took, another pulse of light escaped from the precious stone. This light show, however, did not seem to bother or startle Shirou at all. It was as though it had happened before.
Suddenly, Shirou stopped in the middle of the room and sat down. He then assumed a meditative position and began to practice another skill set. One that he had been practicing for the last three years, ever since he had finally convinced Kiritsugu to teach him. One that he was still struggling with, even after three years of effort and dedication.
For you see, Shirou was a Magus, and as such he kept such information hidden from those he cared about to protect them. For the Moonlit world was full of dangers, beings that had refused to fade away into myth and legend for one, and the ethics of the Magi Associations for another. Something that Kiritsugu had not wanted Shirou to get involved in at that point in time.
Since most traditional Magi were borderline fanatical in trying to keep the existence of Mage Craft a secret, Shiro had to either practice at night or when he was working on repairing equipment and machinery (unbeknownst to the owners of said objects or his boss), lest he bring a reprisal down on Fuyuki.
One of the most notable purges had been Pompeii, which came as a great shock to Shirou, and had also made him feel sick and angry at the same time.
All of that information, mainly concerning the Magi Associations and the purges, had been told to Shirou by his other teacher. One who was probably older than most civilizations on Gaia, and had seen many things over his long-life span.
Speaking of which…
The light from the sword suddenly bathed the entire interior of the shed/Workshop, and Shirou had to close his eyes. Then, Shirou disappeared from the room with the light, as the teleportation magic imbued into Magnus activated.
When he felt it was safe to open them again, Shirou was met with a sight that was familiar to him after three years of training inside.
The cavernous ceiling of the ruin of a great city, carved inside a great mountain. It was sad, really to think of how many people once called this place home. Now it had fallen into disrepair, save for the great pillars of carved stone that reached towards the ceiling.
Shirou then began to walk forward to the center of the city and, consequently, the heart of the mountain. As he passed by the husks of ancient buildings, a tall structure suddenly loomed out at him from the gloom. It was the only building that still looked like it had just been finished being carved out of the mountain. This structure had the appearance of being both a place of worship, and a fortress.
Either one would work for describing its purpose. Carved stone sentinels lined the battlements, their details so precise they appeared to be alive. Atop the entrance, was a breath-taking statue of marble, carved into the shape of a massive two-legged dragon; wings spread wide as if in defiance, its eyes not the same white as the freshly fallen snow, as its body was, but a deep electric blue that seemed pierce into the depths of one's heart and soul. The doors of this grand structure were made from a silvery-blue metal, which Shirou opened without hesitation.
As soon as the doors had closed Shirou heard a deep guttural voice speak from behind him.
"Drem Yol Lok, Shirou Emiya," was what the voice said.
Shirou then turned around and smiled, responding with, "Drem Yol Lok, Sensei."
"How many times have I told you, you can call me by my name, young one," grumbled the voice in equal parts amusement and exasperation.
"Gomen." Shirou apologized. He then repeated the previous phrase once more.
"Drem Yol Lok…" Shirou hesitated for just a few moments before he finished the greeting with the other's name.
"…Paarthurnax."
So, there we are. Chapter one of the story is done. Hope you all liked it! Please read and review!
Well that's that. Time to RTN!