Whereas Taylor's Servants on the other hand might find themselves having some weird and/or disturbing dreams from their connection to her. Parahumans have some wonky shit happening in their brains at rest, and Shards are prone to reaching out and making/playing with connections.
Hereafter [Worm x Fate/Grand Order]
- Thread starter James D. Fawkes
- Start date
- Crossover
James D. Fawkes
Court Scribe
- Location
- Avalon (Isle of Mists)
*laughs in Aife's first interlude*
Which is still a ways away. About 4 chapters.
Which is still a ways away. About 4 chapters.
- Location
- Leeds
Aife: "I had the worst dream, I was fighting this golden guy who could blow up islands with ease but all these other people kept trying to fight him too. Does nobody respect a duel these days?"
Chapter L: Honored Uncle
James D. Fawkes
Court Scribe
- Location
- Avalon (Isle of Mists)
Chapter L: Honored Uncle
For the most part, the rest of the afternoon was spent lounging and relaxing.
The presence of Emperor Nero seemed to inspire the entirety of the camp to put their best foot forward, so the legionnaires made sure to be constantly active and seeing to the upkeep of the camp, and that gave our group from Chaldea not much to do at all. We were outsiders, and they were a well-oiled machine. There was no room for a misshapen cog to intrude on their workings.
So, Ritsuka and Mash watched them like it was primetime entertainment, or perhaps trying to understand what it was the soldiers were doing and how they might be able to help in the future, because those two were like that. Rika had become fast friends with Emperor Nero, and they spent the afternoon trading stories — Nero remained fascinated with the technologies and societal standards of the future, while Rika was equally fascinated by the workings of Roman society.
Fascinated, but judging by some of the indignant outbursts that came from her direction every now and again, not entirely happy with all of it.
Why, yes, Rika, Rome was just as fantastically sexist as every other civilization in this era. The Christians did a lot of new things, but that wasn't one of them.
As for me… Well, I must have looked like I was relaxing. In truth, my attention was elsewhere, focused not on the camp, but outside of it, where my colony of ants had been called upon again to lend me a hand practicing the forms and formations of the Primordial Runes. Until it felt like I could have done them in my sleep, I drilled myself on those runes.
Without Aífe guiding me through them, I also felt a little lost. Unmoored, maybe, like I was fumbling about with something I didn't quite understand. So I focused only on the parts that I was one-hundred percent sure on and left the rest to be revisited after I'd had more lessons.
Having some idea from what Marie had taught me about modern runes helped, but my magic attribute didn't work well with runes to begin with. Puppetry felt natural, like an extension of my limbs. The magical energy just flowed so neatly into the shapes I needed. Runes felt like I was trying to wrestle the ocean into a bucket, using nothing but a teaspoon. It took almost twice the energy and it still didn't want to do what I tried to tell it.
It occurred to me, with some irony, that I was now exactly what Myrddin had always claimed to be: a magician. My magic powers just didn't work quite so well.
That night, there was a huge celebration feast in honor of Emperor Nero. Emiya had apparently been roped into helping make it, and it featured a traditional Roman delicacy — something about a goatfish? I had no idea what a goatfish was, but I had very serious and very well-warranted doubts that it was anything like what the name conjured up in my imagination.
Although this was still technically the early days of the Age of Man, as my lessons had called it. Magical beasts of all kinds still roamed the land and swam the seas, so it was entirely possible that some kind of kelpie offshoot existed that was an unholy amalgamation of a goat and a fish. That didn't seem to be what it turned out to be — an ordinary fish, by all accounts, prepared in some kind of salty herb sauce — but the more I thought of it, the more I realized that the existence of a goat and fish hybrid monstrosity couldn't be ruled out.
If there was any justice in this world, I would never have to find out firsthand. There were some things that my sanity was better off not knowing were real.
The only one left out was Boudica, who remained in her tent, still recovering. Midway through the evening, I decided to escape the excitement and the festivities and took her a plate, filled with food. When I stepped into her tent, the way her look of surprise made me feel was…complicated.
After a moment, she smiled ruefully and said, "You know that Servants don't actually need to eat."
"Want and need are two entirely different things," was my response. "Besides, even though it doesn't make a huge difference, it's not like you won't get anything out of eating, and every little bit counts."
"I guess it does," she said, laughing softly, and I sat down with her in silence as she slowly ate her meal with one hand.
It was…nice, I think. We didn't talk or really say anything else to each other, we just sat in companionable silence, and if, for the first time in almost two years, the thought of my friends or my father and how much I missed them didn't hurt quite as much, well… Maybe Boudica really was just that comfortable a person to be around.
The next day was spent entirely in preparation. There wasn't much time for bonding or small talk, and almost everything we all said to each other was strictly business. In the morning, we had a few brief lessons with Aífe, but they were more relaxed and less strenuous than they had been for the last few days, and almost immediately after we had had a chance to cool down from that, it was on to planning.
The first thing that became obvious when we started looking at our maps was that it wasn't going to be quick or easy to get back to Rome. Large swaths of Gaul — of what would one day be France — were still wild and untamed, thick forests that had, at best, narrow, well-trodden paths that weren't exactly an obstacle for Aífe or Boudica's chariots, but certainly an inconvenience and more effort than it was worth to mow them down.
In hindsight, that was obvious. Even fourteen-hundred years into the future, during the Orléans Singularity, the countryside was thick with forest and foliage. There were patches cut out for farmland and towns and villages, but we'd spent far less time out in open fields than we did under the thick canopy of crowded woodlands. Over a thousand years earlier, of course the difference would be an even starker one.
Fortunately, we did have the old Roman roads marked out on our maps, courtesy of Da Vinci. That let us plot a course for the capital city, using pathways that had been laid out decades or even centuries before to establish the trade routes that were still in use and would remain in use even hundreds of years into the future.
That was also where we ran into our first snag. Namely, a small, little known mountain range called the Alps.
If Chaldea had ever promised that its recruits would "see the wonders of the world," then they might actually have wound up living up to that. Maybe I'd see if Marie was up to putting that in the brochure, after this whole mess was over with.
The problem was that the mountains formed a sort of natural barrier between the Italian peninsula and the rest of Europe, and we were left with two choices: we could either take a faster but longer route around the mountains, south along Via Agrippa I to Via Julia Augusta and along Via Aurelia, or we could take a shorter but less timely route through the mountains, east along Via Helvetica, then swing through the foothills on Via Claudia Augusta and south along Via Cassia.
None of those names meant much of anything to me, but Nero and Boudica knew them well enough that I decided not to comment. Either route would take us to Rome, and that was what was really important anyway.
There was some debate about the merits of each route, but even though the southern route along the coast was technically longer in terms of distance traveled, it was faster and the terrain was more favorable. It seemed easier to travel that road at the sorts of speeds Aífe's chariot could reach than to take a riskier path through the mountains, where there were many more chances for the more vulnerable of us to be bucked out of the carriages or thrown out on sharp turns.
That it would be easier on us Masters and our stomachs — and Nero, as well — was left unspoken. That was, until Rika loudly proclaimed her relief that she wouldn't be riding another rollercoaster.
"That's a side benefit," I admitted casually, like it was an afterthought. From Arash's smile and Emiya's smirk, neither of them were fooled for a second.
I didn't cut corners when it came to saving the world, but that didn't mean I liked being miserable, thank you very much.
Our second problem was the distance. The trip came out to over thirteen-hundred kilometers, and I didn't need to try and do the conversion in my head to know that it was a trip that would normally take closer to a month than a day. That wasn't as big a problem as it could be, thanks to Aífe and Boudica's chariots, but even if I ballparked it and estimated that their top speeds were somewhere in the range of four-hundred kilometers per hour, that was still almost three heart-pounding hours racing along faster than a top-of-the-line Formula One car.
No, obviously, we weren't going to make the whole trip at once. Forget the fact that it would mean being miserable as bugs darted in and out of my range at nauseating speeds for almost three hours, just the idea of standing stock-still in the chariots for that long made my knees ache. Of course we were going to need to break this trip down into smaller segments.
What we eventually decided on was that we would make the first third of the trip down to Massilia along the southern coast. We'd take an hour's break or so and have lunch, give our food enough time to digest, and then make the second leg of the trip down to Genua, where we'd take our second break. Another hour to let our legs rest and catch our metaphorical breath.
From there, it really depended on how good our time was. If our timing was good enough and we still had the daylight left, then our next stop would be Rome itself, where we could arrive in time for a late-ish dinner. If we were running late, then we'd stop over in Genua and stay the night, then get to Rome the next day, stop over for lunch, and head out to Mount Etna that afternoon.
It wouldn't be as quick as doing the whole thing at once, but it would definitely be easier on me, the twins, and Nero, so I shelved the twist of urgency in my gut, the remnants of my old life as a cape. We had time to do this right. Slow and safe was the way to go.
With the planning out of the way, the rest of the day was spent getting ready, so that all we would have to do in the morning after our breakfast had digested was climb into the chariots and take off. That didn't actually take all that long, though, so most of it was spent just relaxing.
Well, the twins relaxed and occupied their time bonding with Marcus and the soldiers, when Rika wasn't glued to the hip of her other, blonde twin. Naturally, I spent my time practicing my runes again.
After a nice enough dinner — around that same table in Boudica's tent — we went to bed early. Rika wanted to stay up and chat with Nero some more, but her yawns betrayed her, and eventually, even she had to admit defeat and call it a night.
The next day arrived early for us. Not at the crack of dawn, but closer to it than not. Our group got up and had a quiet breakfast, because even Nero, it seemed, could be groggy early in the morning.
More was the pity that tea and coffee hadn't yet become common beverages. That probably would have perked everyone up.
And after about an hour to let our food settle so it didn't wind up all over the chariots' carriages, it was time to go, and our group assembled. Once we were all together, I turned to face them.
"We'll walk up to the main road and mount the chariots from there."
Rika saluted me. "Aye — ooooooowah — aye, Shushou!"
She was interrupted by a yawn halfway through, but that didn't mean I couldn't catch the introduction of yet another new nickname for me.
I slanted a glance at Ritsuka. "It means 'captain,'" he explained briefly. "Like of a sports team."
As long as it isn't the cheer squad, I suppose.
"That's no good," Nero huffed, hands on her hips. "After all, as emperor, the only one who should be considered the leader is me! Mm!"
"As team leader of Chaldea's response team," I said with deliberate slowness, "I'm technically the one in charge. Your Excellency, you aren't actually part of our command structure."
"I am the ruler of all that is Rome!" she declared pompously. "As you are my citizens, that makes me your ruler! No need to shower me with praise. Your emperor is as humble as she is generous!"
My eyebrows shot towards my hairline. What?
"We're Roman citizens? According to who?" I couldn't help blurting out.
More importantly, when had that happened?
"Me!" Nero nodded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Mm-mm! As emperor, I am the one who decides who is a citizen of my great empire and who is not, and I have decided that it is only appropriate that you be citizens of Rome!"
"Wow," said Rika. "I thought getting dual citizenship was supposed to be a lot harder. That was pretty easy."
Don't encourage this! I wanted to snap at her.
The Servants all had the nerve to be amused by this, too. "Does that include us Servants, as well?" Arash asked. "Because I'm not sure how that counts when we're technically dead."
"Or when we technically led rebellions against the empire," Boudica added.
"Haha!" Spartacus laughed. "The empire never dies! The chains of oppression choose new necks to bind, and they bind sweetly with a gentle caress!"
"I am emperor!" Nero repeated, like that was the end of it. As far as she was concerned, it seemed to be. "I embody all that is Rome, and if I say that you are Roman, then you are Roman!"
"Fine," I said impatiently. Whatever. "Then, glorious leader, what do you want to be called along the way?"
"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "As the emperor's valued allies and personal comrades, it seems only appropriate! You may dispense with my well-deserved titles and simply call me Nero!"
"Is that really okay?" Mash asked uncertainly.
"I am emperor!" Nero declared for the third time. "I say that it is!"
"I've never been on a first name basis with an emperor before," Ritsuka muttered. He sounded a little faint, like he couldn't quite believe it.
"If there's nothing else, at least she's upfront about this sort of thing," Boudica said, laughing a little.
Arash smiled. "She's definitely a very straightforward sort of person, isn't she?"
"I wonder if that makes it a good thing that the politicians hate her so much, then," Aífe mused.
Emiya huffed a short laugh. "Well, they do say Emperor Nero was better loved by her subjects than her senators."
"Oh yeah!" Rika grinned and held out her fist to Nero. "My new best buddy is awesome!"
Nero regarded her hand with confusion. "Is this some kind of gesture from the future?"
"It's called a fist bump!" Rika told her, and she held her other fist out to her brother, who sighed and tapped it with his. Rika mimed an explosion. "It's a thing friends do with each other! Like a secret handshake!"
Nero's eyes widened and her lips pulled into a broad smile. "I see! Yes, a 'fist bump!' Mm-mm!"
She raised her own hand, furled her fingers into a fist, and then she and Rika tapped their knuckles together. They each spread their fingers as they pulled away, miming another explosion. Nero looked absolutely delighted.
I could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to form, and I resisted the urge to reach up and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Then, Nero, if it's okay with you, we need to get going if we want to make good time."
Nero, who was curling and uncurling her fingers as she stared down at them in wonder, jolted to attention. "Of course!" she said brightly. "There's not a moment to waste! We should leave immediately!"
But you were the one who…
My eyes pressed shut briefly and I choked back a sigh, then let it go.
But finally, we could start the trip, because it was going to be a long one and the faster we could get it over with, the better. We made our way through camp and towards the edge of it, back to the path that would lead up the mountainside and to the road that cut across over to Lyon — Via Agrippa II, if I was remembering the maps right.
Why the Romans had started reusing names like that instead of coming up with something new, well, I didn't really care enough about the answer to ask. Probably, it was built around the same time as the first Via Agrippa on the orders of the same person, and since it was an offshoot of the main road, they just gave it a quick, easy, subordinate name. It might not be the most original, but there weren't exactly dozens of spider-webbing, zigzagging streets to make it harder to remember which was which.
Wasn't sure I could really talk about originality, either, not when just about every major city in the US had at least one street named after George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, or Ben Franklin.
As we were about to start up the mountainside, however, the familiar tenor of Marcus' voice called out, "Emperor Nero!"
We all turned to find him there, dressed in full kit, with the entirety of his four-hundred-plus cohort behind him, similarly bedecked. When he saw that he had our attention, Marcus straightened and squared his shoulders.
"Soldiers of the legion!" he bellowed. "Salute!"
The thump of eight-hundred feet and the thunk of four-hundred-something fists striking cuirasses echoed out at once, and in one voice, the entirety of the cohort let out a shout that shook the trees around us.
"I guess it really is true," Mash said quietly. "Emperor Nero may have been despised by the politicians, but her people loved her."
Nero, who may or may not have heard her, teared up a little, and she pressed her own fist over her heart and gave Marcus and his cohort a short bow, little more than a nod of her head and a bend of her shoulders.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and exited the camp ahead of us, head held high. The legionnaires posted at the entrance snapped to attention as she passed. They didn't relax until we had all followed after her, leaving the camp behind.
"The love of the emperor is the empire," Spartacus said, uncharacteristically quiet. "The love of the empire is the emperor. The greatest tyranny is born of deep-seated oppression."
The twins shared a look, and Rika shrugged. When they turned to me, I pretended I didn't see them, because it wasn't like I had any better an idea what he meant than they did.
The sun had fully risen by the time we got up to the main road, hanging high above the horizon and sending shafts of golden light through the canopy of the trees. The countryside had awoken fully, filled with birdsong and the whisper of the late summer wind.
"Emiya!" I called over to him, and he turned to look at me curiously. I gestured with my hands. "Helmets?"
His eyebrows rose and his eyes went a little wide. "Oh, right."
One after the other, he materialized the same leather aviator helmets we masters had worn for our dash towards Orléans ("Trace, on."), which I was somewhat embarrassed to admit I'd forgotten to ask for during our last two rides, because it might have saved us a little bit of trouble. He tossed the first to me, and then made two more and handed them off to the twins.
As we Masters secured our headgear, Boudica and Aífe both summoned their chariots, and we split into our groups to mount up as Arash, Emiya, and Spartacus faded away into Spirit Form. Ritsuka, Rika, and Mash all climbed in with Boudica, which (to my misfortune) left Nero to ride with Aífe and me.
"How magnificent!" Nero proclaimed as she leaned over the carriage's railing. "Never before have I borne witness to such a beautiful and majestic pair of horses!"
The white one stamped a hoof and tossed its mane, like it had heard her and was preening. The red one looked at its partner and snorted with a shake of its head.
"And you never will again," Aífe said plainly. "The likes of these two have long since been left behind by this world."
"Then I shall simply have to have my fill of them now! Mm-mm!"
Ahead of us, since she had to set the pace, Boudica's chariot lurched into motion, and the instant it did, Aífe snapped on her reins and we followed. I gripped tight to the railing as my stomach jumped and closed my eyes to prepare myself for what was to come.
It didn't help much.
Boudica and Aífe didn't immediately accelerate to top speed like physics was just a suggestion, perhaps as a nod to Nero's comfort, and took the road relatively slowly for a minute or two. The instant we cleared the mountain, however, and the slope curved down into the valley, they rapidly picked up speed, and the galaxy of lights through which I visualized my swarm whirled into motion.
The beat of the horses' hooves and the squeak of the chariot's axle provided a soundtrack to the dizzying whorls of bugs entering and leaving my range, but they did little to ease my nausea as my stomach squirmed from my brain trying to keep up with the lightning fast changes in the composition and size of my swarm. I was getting used to it, I think, but not so used to it that I could keep going without being bothered.
One of the downsides to having my powers back. On the other hand, without my powers, it would probably be the smearing landscape that would have my stomach twisting itself into knots. Even the hardiest of folks would have trouble with motion sickness when they were looking out at a world that better resembled a swirling impressionistic painting than an actual countryside.
We turned and skirted around the outside of Lugdunum — Lyon — crossing through the fields and then over the river to reach Via Agrippa I (where I found out that Boudica's chariot could fly and Aífe's could ride on water, both of which would have been nice to know earlier), and then continuing south for a short while. We had to swerve again only far enough to avoid another town a few miles south of Lugdunum.
From there, as we followed the road that ran parallel with the river, the ride was relatively smooth, for a given value of the word. My troubles with the speed remained, but there were no significant swings in the elevation, so there was at least that much to be thankful for. Small mercies, as it were.
It was still an uncomfortable hour, although Nero seemed to enjoy herself much more than I did, going by the broad grin on her face that I saw when I chanced a glance. At least she didn't whoop and holler like she was at an amusement park.
At last, as the road began to straighten out, a wall of gleaming stone brick rose on the horizon, growing larger and larger with every second. Ahead of us, Boudica's chariot began to slow, and instead of galloping straight into the city, she turned aside and pulled off of the road to a stop. Aífe clicked her tongue, almost inaudible over the stamp of her horses' hooves, and gave a tug on one side of the reins, steering her chariot towards where Boudica had stopped.
Boudica and the twins had just finished dismounting when we pulled up beside them, and Arash, Spartacus, and Emiya shimmered into existence, frowning.
"Is something wrong?" Arash asked, preempting my own question.
"Ah," said Boudica, shaking her head, "not…wrong, exactly, I just didn't think it would go over well if we charged in there when the Empire is in the middle of a civil war. Plus…"
She gestured down to the stump of her left arm, still glittering around the edges as it rebuilt itself. In hindsight, yes, that would be a very difficult thing to explain to anyone who saw it, wouldn't it?
"Right, that would stick out too much," Emiya agreed. "More questions than we really want to be answering right now."
"I don't think our entire group should go in, either," Boudica went on. "We would draw too much attention and suspicion, and… Emperor Nero, I think you especially need to stay out here."
"What's this?" Nero demanded. "Mm-mm! Why should I deprive my loyal subjects the glory of my august presence?"
"And that's exactly why," Boudica said.
Nero tilted her head, brow knitting together.
"You'll cause a scene," I told her bluntly. "The instant enough people realize you're there, we'll be mobbed by a whole crowd of people who want to see you. They might even try to throw a feast."
It would also be an excellent moment for an assassin to try and sneak up on us. Or an Assassin. There was no way of knowing if the United Empire had summoned one, but I wasn't going to place any bets against it, and you couldn't tell me that Brutus wouldn't count as one. Not when his murder of Julius Caesar was one of the most famous assassinations in history.
On the other hand, the idea that those two could work together seemed a bit of a stretch, didn't it?
"As they should!" Nero said. "It is only proper that the people should celebrate their glorious leader."
"Except it would turn a one-day trip into a three-day trip," Aífe drawled, leaning over the edge of her chariot's carriage. "It would take us thrice as long to reach Rome if everyone threw a party whenever we stopped over."
"Hmmm," Nero hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose you do have something of a point."
"Can we really leave Boudica and Nero out here by themselves?" Mash asked, a thread of uncertain worry in her voice.
"No," I answered immediately, "that's not a good idea either."
Rika grinned. "Well then, it looks like it's time to split up, gang!"
I resisted the urge to turn to her with an arched eyebrow. A Scooby Doo reference, this time? What was she, a pop culture machine?
"The people who should go into town for supplies are the ones that will blend in best," said Arash.
I nodded. "Agreed."
He turned towards the twins and Boudica. "Rika, Mash, Emiya, I'm afraid to say that probably isn't you."
Emiya gave a helpless shrug. 'What can you do?' his expression said.
"Eh?" Mash looked down at herself. "Really?"
"Your plate armor is a little too advanced for this era," Emiya drawled. "My clothes, too."
She blinked. "But wouldn't that mean all of the Masters wouldn't fit in?"
"The clothes can be discounted, if everything else looks right," said Arash. "But you, Emiya, and Rika don't look Roman at all, what with those hair colors."
"But Nero's blonde!" Rika burst out.
"Of course," Nero said proudly. "It's only natural that the emperor is also the most beautiful in all of Rome!"
"And Nero isn't going, either," Arash pointed out. "So that's a moot point."
"But Aífe!" Rika gestured her way with both hands.
Aífe arched one eyebrow. Arash frowned.
"Aífe could pass for a Celtic mercenary," he eventually said. "In fact…" He turned to me. "We're your bodyguards."
My mouth pulled to one side, but after a moment of thought, the idea made sense. It wasn't an airtight thing, but it should hold up to casual scrutiny. My strange, finely woven clothing wasn't because I was a time traveler, but because I was a member of the aristocracy, and Aífe and Arash were my bodyguards.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more the cover story started to make sense to me.
"There's just one problem," I said. "We don't have any money."
Arash opened his mouth, paused a moment, and then uttered a simple, "Ah…"
Nero huffed. "Is that all you're concerned about? Just who do you think is standing next to you?"
She rummaged about in the pack she'd brought with her, and after a moment, produced a handful of silver coins that jangled against her gauntlet. "This should be more than sufficient for our purposes!"
Arash held out his own hand, and she deposited the coins in his palm. He counted them out with one finger and nodded. "Yeah, this should definitely do it."
"What if one group gets into trouble?" Ritsuka asked solemnly.
I was the one with an answer for that, and I shifted my bag so I could unzip it and release my ravens. A moment later, the two of them were perched on my hands, utterly and unnaturally still.
"We have our communicators," I said, "but I'll leave these two to keep an eye on things, just in case an attack comes."
Huginn took off and climbed into the sky, while Muninn hopped onto the rim of Aífe's chariot and perched there, looking the group over with his beady little black eyes. The city was big, for this era, but not so big that I should be out of range of my ravens at any point. Worst case scenario, I could send either Arash or Aífe off on their own.
That seemed to mollify Ritsuka, and no one else looked to have any complaints, so I grouped up with Aífe and Arash, and before we left, I looked back at Mash, Emiya, and Spartacus. "We'll leave the protection of the twins and Nero to you three, for now. Emiya, if you could get things ready, we'll probably be bringing back some fish for lunch."
He nodded, then projected a wicker basket with one hand and tossed it our way. Arash snatched it out of the air before I could.
"They don't have shopping bags in this era," was Emiya's explanation.
Silently, I was thankful, because I'd kind of forgotten about that part. "We'll be back in about half an hour. If you need anything…"
I tapped my wrist meaningfully. The twins and Mash nodded.
With all of the important details squared away, our group of three peeled away and turned down the road to start off in the direction of Massilia. The guards at the gate entrance glanced our way as we passed, but they offered no comment and didn't try to stop us, so I rolled my shoulders as I felt some of the tension drain away.
First hurdle passed.
Inside the wall was a busy city, perhaps not surprisingly so, considering it was a big trading hub and had been for centuries. It wasn't nearly the size of, say, Brockton Bay or Chicago, and it didn't hold a candle to what little I remembered of New York City, but it was just as tightly packed, and a rich, civilian population milled about the streets as they did their business.
As we walked, I pulled on the pests infesting people's homes, taking out the nuisances to begin forming a swarm that would let me keep a mental map of the city. At the same time, I scouted ahead with the bugs that were coming into my range and used their senses to figure out the direction we needed to head to get to the market.
The people around us looked at us curiously as we went. I could almost feel their eyes sweeping over my strange clothes and my glasses, the knife sheathed at my hip, my somewhat paler complexion. The instant they saw Aífe and her menacing red spear, however, and Arash, decked out in teal plate, they averted their eyes and kept going.
"It looks like this plan of yours is working," Aífe remarked quietly.
"Better than I expected it to, if I'm honest," Arash replied.
And it was. No one seemed to want to bring our attention down on themselves. They were fine with stealing looks when they thought none of us noticed, but they never did more than that, and they gave us a wide berth as we walked, making sure they never got closer than about five feet away.
I led our little team down the streets and towards the market, and as we got closer, the briny, rank smell of fish filtered up from the stalls and the docks, and I couldn't help wrinkling my nose against the stench of it. In some ways, though, it felt familiar, because it was carried on the salty wind of a seawater bay, and the closer we got, the more I started picking up bugs that were crawling about the port.
In some ways, it reminded me of home. Brockton Bay.
But the differences couldn't have been starker, because two thousand years made for a huge gap in what fishing was, and my view of the city gave me too good a perspective to forget where I was.
"How much fish should we get?" Arash asked as we approached the market.
"Given the size of them? Three should be more than enough," I told him.
He nodded. "Three it is, then."
"Feel free to pick up some bread and a few vegetables," I added.
"Of course."
He moved away from Aífe and I, and with a smile, he walked over to the nearest stall, greeting the clerk on the other side politely. Clerk? Owner? Shopkeeper? Whatever the proper term was. He peered down at the fish on display with apparent interest as he made friendly small talk, and I had no idea what kind of food he'd eaten during his life, but he definitely seemed to have an eye for the fish that I hadn't expected.
While he was doing that, I closed my eyes for a moment and turned my attention back to my ravens — just in time for a blur to race down the road, streaking like a comet for the other team waiting for us outside the city.
"Incoming Servant detected!" I heard Mash yelp through Muninn's ears.
The comet threw itself into the air and landed nearby with a crash, and it resolved into a man who stood, bedecked in golden armor and a long, red cape. A skirt of leather strips fell to mid-thigh, and a mop of short, black hair sat atop his head, windswept. The most striking thing, however, were his mad, red eyes, set in blackened sockets, that honed immediately in on Nero.
"My beloved younger sister's child," the Servant rasped in a rough, gravelly voice. "Give it up. Give it all up. That life. That body. That empire. GIVE IT OVER TO ME."
Nero gasped, and in a small, quiet voice, she asked, "Uncle?"
Next — Chapter LI: The Mad Emperor
For the most part, the rest of the afternoon was spent lounging and relaxing.
The presence of Emperor Nero seemed to inspire the entirety of the camp to put their best foot forward, so the legionnaires made sure to be constantly active and seeing to the upkeep of the camp, and that gave our group from Chaldea not much to do at all. We were outsiders, and they were a well-oiled machine. There was no room for a misshapen cog to intrude on their workings.
So, Ritsuka and Mash watched them like it was primetime entertainment, or perhaps trying to understand what it was the soldiers were doing and how they might be able to help in the future, because those two were like that. Rika had become fast friends with Emperor Nero, and they spent the afternoon trading stories — Nero remained fascinated with the technologies and societal standards of the future, while Rika was equally fascinated by the workings of Roman society.
Fascinated, but judging by some of the indignant outbursts that came from her direction every now and again, not entirely happy with all of it.
Why, yes, Rika, Rome was just as fantastically sexist as every other civilization in this era. The Christians did a lot of new things, but that wasn't one of them.
As for me… Well, I must have looked like I was relaxing. In truth, my attention was elsewhere, focused not on the camp, but outside of it, where my colony of ants had been called upon again to lend me a hand practicing the forms and formations of the Primordial Runes. Until it felt like I could have done them in my sleep, I drilled myself on those runes.
Without Aífe guiding me through them, I also felt a little lost. Unmoored, maybe, like I was fumbling about with something I didn't quite understand. So I focused only on the parts that I was one-hundred percent sure on and left the rest to be revisited after I'd had more lessons.
Having some idea from what Marie had taught me about modern runes helped, but my magic attribute didn't work well with runes to begin with. Puppetry felt natural, like an extension of my limbs. The magical energy just flowed so neatly into the shapes I needed. Runes felt like I was trying to wrestle the ocean into a bucket, using nothing but a teaspoon. It took almost twice the energy and it still didn't want to do what I tried to tell it.
It occurred to me, with some irony, that I was now exactly what Myrddin had always claimed to be: a magician. My magic powers just didn't work quite so well.
That night, there was a huge celebration feast in honor of Emperor Nero. Emiya had apparently been roped into helping make it, and it featured a traditional Roman delicacy — something about a goatfish? I had no idea what a goatfish was, but I had very serious and very well-warranted doubts that it was anything like what the name conjured up in my imagination.
Although this was still technically the early days of the Age of Man, as my lessons had called it. Magical beasts of all kinds still roamed the land and swam the seas, so it was entirely possible that some kind of kelpie offshoot existed that was an unholy amalgamation of a goat and a fish. That didn't seem to be what it turned out to be — an ordinary fish, by all accounts, prepared in some kind of salty herb sauce — but the more I thought of it, the more I realized that the existence of a goat and fish hybrid monstrosity couldn't be ruled out.
If there was any justice in this world, I would never have to find out firsthand. There were some things that my sanity was better off not knowing were real.
The only one left out was Boudica, who remained in her tent, still recovering. Midway through the evening, I decided to escape the excitement and the festivities and took her a plate, filled with food. When I stepped into her tent, the way her look of surprise made me feel was…complicated.
After a moment, she smiled ruefully and said, "You know that Servants don't actually need to eat."
"Want and need are two entirely different things," was my response. "Besides, even though it doesn't make a huge difference, it's not like you won't get anything out of eating, and every little bit counts."
"I guess it does," she said, laughing softly, and I sat down with her in silence as she slowly ate her meal with one hand.
It was…nice, I think. We didn't talk or really say anything else to each other, we just sat in companionable silence, and if, for the first time in almost two years, the thought of my friends or my father and how much I missed them didn't hurt quite as much, well… Maybe Boudica really was just that comfortable a person to be around.
The next day was spent entirely in preparation. There wasn't much time for bonding or small talk, and almost everything we all said to each other was strictly business. In the morning, we had a few brief lessons with Aífe, but they were more relaxed and less strenuous than they had been for the last few days, and almost immediately after we had had a chance to cool down from that, it was on to planning.
The first thing that became obvious when we started looking at our maps was that it wasn't going to be quick or easy to get back to Rome. Large swaths of Gaul — of what would one day be France — were still wild and untamed, thick forests that had, at best, narrow, well-trodden paths that weren't exactly an obstacle for Aífe or Boudica's chariots, but certainly an inconvenience and more effort than it was worth to mow them down.
In hindsight, that was obvious. Even fourteen-hundred years into the future, during the Orléans Singularity, the countryside was thick with forest and foliage. There were patches cut out for farmland and towns and villages, but we'd spent far less time out in open fields than we did under the thick canopy of crowded woodlands. Over a thousand years earlier, of course the difference would be an even starker one.
Fortunately, we did have the old Roman roads marked out on our maps, courtesy of Da Vinci. That let us plot a course for the capital city, using pathways that had been laid out decades or even centuries before to establish the trade routes that were still in use and would remain in use even hundreds of years into the future.
That was also where we ran into our first snag. Namely, a small, little known mountain range called the Alps.
If Chaldea had ever promised that its recruits would "see the wonders of the world," then they might actually have wound up living up to that. Maybe I'd see if Marie was up to putting that in the brochure, after this whole mess was over with.
The problem was that the mountains formed a sort of natural barrier between the Italian peninsula and the rest of Europe, and we were left with two choices: we could either take a faster but longer route around the mountains, south along Via Agrippa I to Via Julia Augusta and along Via Aurelia, or we could take a shorter but less timely route through the mountains, east along Via Helvetica, then swing through the foothills on Via Claudia Augusta and south along Via Cassia.
None of those names meant much of anything to me, but Nero and Boudica knew them well enough that I decided not to comment. Either route would take us to Rome, and that was what was really important anyway.
There was some debate about the merits of each route, but even though the southern route along the coast was technically longer in terms of distance traveled, it was faster and the terrain was more favorable. It seemed easier to travel that road at the sorts of speeds Aífe's chariot could reach than to take a riskier path through the mountains, where there were many more chances for the more vulnerable of us to be bucked out of the carriages or thrown out on sharp turns.
That it would be easier on us Masters and our stomachs — and Nero, as well — was left unspoken. That was, until Rika loudly proclaimed her relief that she wouldn't be riding another rollercoaster.
"That's a side benefit," I admitted casually, like it was an afterthought. From Arash's smile and Emiya's smirk, neither of them were fooled for a second.
I didn't cut corners when it came to saving the world, but that didn't mean I liked being miserable, thank you very much.
Our second problem was the distance. The trip came out to over thirteen-hundred kilometers, and I didn't need to try and do the conversion in my head to know that it was a trip that would normally take closer to a month than a day. That wasn't as big a problem as it could be, thanks to Aífe and Boudica's chariots, but even if I ballparked it and estimated that their top speeds were somewhere in the range of four-hundred kilometers per hour, that was still almost three heart-pounding hours racing along faster than a top-of-the-line Formula One car.
No, obviously, we weren't going to make the whole trip at once. Forget the fact that it would mean being miserable as bugs darted in and out of my range at nauseating speeds for almost three hours, just the idea of standing stock-still in the chariots for that long made my knees ache. Of course we were going to need to break this trip down into smaller segments.
What we eventually decided on was that we would make the first third of the trip down to Massilia along the southern coast. We'd take an hour's break or so and have lunch, give our food enough time to digest, and then make the second leg of the trip down to Genua, where we'd take our second break. Another hour to let our legs rest and catch our metaphorical breath.
From there, it really depended on how good our time was. If our timing was good enough and we still had the daylight left, then our next stop would be Rome itself, where we could arrive in time for a late-ish dinner. If we were running late, then we'd stop over in Genua and stay the night, then get to Rome the next day, stop over for lunch, and head out to Mount Etna that afternoon.
It wouldn't be as quick as doing the whole thing at once, but it would definitely be easier on me, the twins, and Nero, so I shelved the twist of urgency in my gut, the remnants of my old life as a cape. We had time to do this right. Slow and safe was the way to go.
With the planning out of the way, the rest of the day was spent getting ready, so that all we would have to do in the morning after our breakfast had digested was climb into the chariots and take off. That didn't actually take all that long, though, so most of it was spent just relaxing.
Well, the twins relaxed and occupied their time bonding with Marcus and the soldiers, when Rika wasn't glued to the hip of her other, blonde twin. Naturally, I spent my time practicing my runes again.
After a nice enough dinner — around that same table in Boudica's tent — we went to bed early. Rika wanted to stay up and chat with Nero some more, but her yawns betrayed her, and eventually, even she had to admit defeat and call it a night.
The next day arrived early for us. Not at the crack of dawn, but closer to it than not. Our group got up and had a quiet breakfast, because even Nero, it seemed, could be groggy early in the morning.
More was the pity that tea and coffee hadn't yet become common beverages. That probably would have perked everyone up.
And after about an hour to let our food settle so it didn't wind up all over the chariots' carriages, it was time to go, and our group assembled. Once we were all together, I turned to face them.
"We'll walk up to the main road and mount the chariots from there."
Rika saluted me. "Aye — ooooooowah — aye, Shushou!"
She was interrupted by a yawn halfway through, but that didn't mean I couldn't catch the introduction of yet another new nickname for me.
I slanted a glance at Ritsuka. "It means 'captain,'" he explained briefly. "Like of a sports team."
As long as it isn't the cheer squad, I suppose.
"That's no good," Nero huffed, hands on her hips. "After all, as emperor, the only one who should be considered the leader is me! Mm!"
"As team leader of Chaldea's response team," I said with deliberate slowness, "I'm technically the one in charge. Your Excellency, you aren't actually part of our command structure."
"I am the ruler of all that is Rome!" she declared pompously. "As you are my citizens, that makes me your ruler! No need to shower me with praise. Your emperor is as humble as she is generous!"
My eyebrows shot towards my hairline. What?
"We're Roman citizens? According to who?" I couldn't help blurting out.
More importantly, when had that happened?
"Me!" Nero nodded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Mm-mm! As emperor, I am the one who decides who is a citizen of my great empire and who is not, and I have decided that it is only appropriate that you be citizens of Rome!"
"Wow," said Rika. "I thought getting dual citizenship was supposed to be a lot harder. That was pretty easy."
Don't encourage this! I wanted to snap at her.
The Servants all had the nerve to be amused by this, too. "Does that include us Servants, as well?" Arash asked. "Because I'm not sure how that counts when we're technically dead."
"Or when we technically led rebellions against the empire," Boudica added.
"Haha!" Spartacus laughed. "The empire never dies! The chains of oppression choose new necks to bind, and they bind sweetly with a gentle caress!"
"I am emperor!" Nero repeated, like that was the end of it. As far as she was concerned, it seemed to be. "I embody all that is Rome, and if I say that you are Roman, then you are Roman!"
"Fine," I said impatiently. Whatever. "Then, glorious leader, what do you want to be called along the way?"
"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "As the emperor's valued allies and personal comrades, it seems only appropriate! You may dispense with my well-deserved titles and simply call me Nero!"
"Is that really okay?" Mash asked uncertainly.
"I am emperor!" Nero declared for the third time. "I say that it is!"
"I've never been on a first name basis with an emperor before," Ritsuka muttered. He sounded a little faint, like he couldn't quite believe it.
"If there's nothing else, at least she's upfront about this sort of thing," Boudica said, laughing a little.
Arash smiled. "She's definitely a very straightforward sort of person, isn't she?"
"I wonder if that makes it a good thing that the politicians hate her so much, then," Aífe mused.
Emiya huffed a short laugh. "Well, they do say Emperor Nero was better loved by her subjects than her senators."
"Oh yeah!" Rika grinned and held out her fist to Nero. "My new best buddy is awesome!"
Nero regarded her hand with confusion. "Is this some kind of gesture from the future?"
"It's called a fist bump!" Rika told her, and she held her other fist out to her brother, who sighed and tapped it with his. Rika mimed an explosion. "It's a thing friends do with each other! Like a secret handshake!"
Nero's eyes widened and her lips pulled into a broad smile. "I see! Yes, a 'fist bump!' Mm-mm!"
She raised her own hand, furled her fingers into a fist, and then she and Rika tapped their knuckles together. They each spread their fingers as they pulled away, miming another explosion. Nero looked absolutely delighted.
I could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to form, and I resisted the urge to reach up and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Then, Nero, if it's okay with you, we need to get going if we want to make good time."
Nero, who was curling and uncurling her fingers as she stared down at them in wonder, jolted to attention. "Of course!" she said brightly. "There's not a moment to waste! We should leave immediately!"
But you were the one who…
My eyes pressed shut briefly and I choked back a sigh, then let it go.
But finally, we could start the trip, because it was going to be a long one and the faster we could get it over with, the better. We made our way through camp and towards the edge of it, back to the path that would lead up the mountainside and to the road that cut across over to Lyon — Via Agrippa II, if I was remembering the maps right.
Why the Romans had started reusing names like that instead of coming up with something new, well, I didn't really care enough about the answer to ask. Probably, it was built around the same time as the first Via Agrippa on the orders of the same person, and since it was an offshoot of the main road, they just gave it a quick, easy, subordinate name. It might not be the most original, but there weren't exactly dozens of spider-webbing, zigzagging streets to make it harder to remember which was which.
Wasn't sure I could really talk about originality, either, not when just about every major city in the US had at least one street named after George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, or Ben Franklin.
As we were about to start up the mountainside, however, the familiar tenor of Marcus' voice called out, "Emperor Nero!"
We all turned to find him there, dressed in full kit, with the entirety of his four-hundred-plus cohort behind him, similarly bedecked. When he saw that he had our attention, Marcus straightened and squared his shoulders.
"Soldiers of the legion!" he bellowed. "Salute!"
The thump of eight-hundred feet and the thunk of four-hundred-something fists striking cuirasses echoed out at once, and in one voice, the entirety of the cohort let out a shout that shook the trees around us.
"I guess it really is true," Mash said quietly. "Emperor Nero may have been despised by the politicians, but her people loved her."
Nero, who may or may not have heard her, teared up a little, and she pressed her own fist over her heart and gave Marcus and his cohort a short bow, little more than a nod of her head and a bend of her shoulders.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and exited the camp ahead of us, head held high. The legionnaires posted at the entrance snapped to attention as she passed. They didn't relax until we had all followed after her, leaving the camp behind.
"The love of the emperor is the empire," Spartacus said, uncharacteristically quiet. "The love of the empire is the emperor. The greatest tyranny is born of deep-seated oppression."
The twins shared a look, and Rika shrugged. When they turned to me, I pretended I didn't see them, because it wasn't like I had any better an idea what he meant than they did.
The sun had fully risen by the time we got up to the main road, hanging high above the horizon and sending shafts of golden light through the canopy of the trees. The countryside had awoken fully, filled with birdsong and the whisper of the late summer wind.
"Emiya!" I called over to him, and he turned to look at me curiously. I gestured with my hands. "Helmets?"
His eyebrows rose and his eyes went a little wide. "Oh, right."
One after the other, he materialized the same leather aviator helmets we masters had worn for our dash towards Orléans ("Trace, on."), which I was somewhat embarrassed to admit I'd forgotten to ask for during our last two rides, because it might have saved us a little bit of trouble. He tossed the first to me, and then made two more and handed them off to the twins.
As we Masters secured our headgear, Boudica and Aífe both summoned their chariots, and we split into our groups to mount up as Arash, Emiya, and Spartacus faded away into Spirit Form. Ritsuka, Rika, and Mash all climbed in with Boudica, which (to my misfortune) left Nero to ride with Aífe and me.
"How magnificent!" Nero proclaimed as she leaned over the carriage's railing. "Never before have I borne witness to such a beautiful and majestic pair of horses!"
The white one stamped a hoof and tossed its mane, like it had heard her and was preening. The red one looked at its partner and snorted with a shake of its head.
"And you never will again," Aífe said plainly. "The likes of these two have long since been left behind by this world."
"Then I shall simply have to have my fill of them now! Mm-mm!"
Ahead of us, since she had to set the pace, Boudica's chariot lurched into motion, and the instant it did, Aífe snapped on her reins and we followed. I gripped tight to the railing as my stomach jumped and closed my eyes to prepare myself for what was to come.
It didn't help much.
Boudica and Aífe didn't immediately accelerate to top speed like physics was just a suggestion, perhaps as a nod to Nero's comfort, and took the road relatively slowly for a minute or two. The instant we cleared the mountain, however, and the slope curved down into the valley, they rapidly picked up speed, and the galaxy of lights through which I visualized my swarm whirled into motion.
The beat of the horses' hooves and the squeak of the chariot's axle provided a soundtrack to the dizzying whorls of bugs entering and leaving my range, but they did little to ease my nausea as my stomach squirmed from my brain trying to keep up with the lightning fast changes in the composition and size of my swarm. I was getting used to it, I think, but not so used to it that I could keep going without being bothered.
One of the downsides to having my powers back. On the other hand, without my powers, it would probably be the smearing landscape that would have my stomach twisting itself into knots. Even the hardiest of folks would have trouble with motion sickness when they were looking out at a world that better resembled a swirling impressionistic painting than an actual countryside.
We turned and skirted around the outside of Lugdunum — Lyon — crossing through the fields and then over the river to reach Via Agrippa I (where I found out that Boudica's chariot could fly and Aífe's could ride on water, both of which would have been nice to know earlier), and then continuing south for a short while. We had to swerve again only far enough to avoid another town a few miles south of Lugdunum.
From there, as we followed the road that ran parallel with the river, the ride was relatively smooth, for a given value of the word. My troubles with the speed remained, but there were no significant swings in the elevation, so there was at least that much to be thankful for. Small mercies, as it were.
It was still an uncomfortable hour, although Nero seemed to enjoy herself much more than I did, going by the broad grin on her face that I saw when I chanced a glance. At least she didn't whoop and holler like she was at an amusement park.
At last, as the road began to straighten out, a wall of gleaming stone brick rose on the horizon, growing larger and larger with every second. Ahead of us, Boudica's chariot began to slow, and instead of galloping straight into the city, she turned aside and pulled off of the road to a stop. Aífe clicked her tongue, almost inaudible over the stamp of her horses' hooves, and gave a tug on one side of the reins, steering her chariot towards where Boudica had stopped.
Boudica and the twins had just finished dismounting when we pulled up beside them, and Arash, Spartacus, and Emiya shimmered into existence, frowning.
"Is something wrong?" Arash asked, preempting my own question.
"Ah," said Boudica, shaking her head, "not…wrong, exactly, I just didn't think it would go over well if we charged in there when the Empire is in the middle of a civil war. Plus…"
She gestured down to the stump of her left arm, still glittering around the edges as it rebuilt itself. In hindsight, yes, that would be a very difficult thing to explain to anyone who saw it, wouldn't it?
"Right, that would stick out too much," Emiya agreed. "More questions than we really want to be answering right now."
"I don't think our entire group should go in, either," Boudica went on. "We would draw too much attention and suspicion, and… Emperor Nero, I think you especially need to stay out here."
"What's this?" Nero demanded. "Mm-mm! Why should I deprive my loyal subjects the glory of my august presence?"
"And that's exactly why," Boudica said.
Nero tilted her head, brow knitting together.
"You'll cause a scene," I told her bluntly. "The instant enough people realize you're there, we'll be mobbed by a whole crowd of people who want to see you. They might even try to throw a feast."
It would also be an excellent moment for an assassin to try and sneak up on us. Or an Assassin. There was no way of knowing if the United Empire had summoned one, but I wasn't going to place any bets against it, and you couldn't tell me that Brutus wouldn't count as one. Not when his murder of Julius Caesar was one of the most famous assassinations in history.
On the other hand, the idea that those two could work together seemed a bit of a stretch, didn't it?
"As they should!" Nero said. "It is only proper that the people should celebrate their glorious leader."
"Except it would turn a one-day trip into a three-day trip," Aífe drawled, leaning over the edge of her chariot's carriage. "It would take us thrice as long to reach Rome if everyone threw a party whenever we stopped over."
"Hmmm," Nero hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose you do have something of a point."
"Can we really leave Boudica and Nero out here by themselves?" Mash asked, a thread of uncertain worry in her voice.
"No," I answered immediately, "that's not a good idea either."
Rika grinned. "Well then, it looks like it's time to split up, gang!"
I resisted the urge to turn to her with an arched eyebrow. A Scooby Doo reference, this time? What was she, a pop culture machine?
"The people who should go into town for supplies are the ones that will blend in best," said Arash.
I nodded. "Agreed."
He turned towards the twins and Boudica. "Rika, Mash, Emiya, I'm afraid to say that probably isn't you."
Emiya gave a helpless shrug. 'What can you do?' his expression said.
"Eh?" Mash looked down at herself. "Really?"
"Your plate armor is a little too advanced for this era," Emiya drawled. "My clothes, too."
She blinked. "But wouldn't that mean all of the Masters wouldn't fit in?"
"The clothes can be discounted, if everything else looks right," said Arash. "But you, Emiya, and Rika don't look Roman at all, what with those hair colors."
"But Nero's blonde!" Rika burst out.
"Of course," Nero said proudly. "It's only natural that the emperor is also the most beautiful in all of Rome!"
"And Nero isn't going, either," Arash pointed out. "So that's a moot point."
"But Aífe!" Rika gestured her way with both hands.
Aífe arched one eyebrow. Arash frowned.
"Aífe could pass for a Celtic mercenary," he eventually said. "In fact…" He turned to me. "We're your bodyguards."
My mouth pulled to one side, but after a moment of thought, the idea made sense. It wasn't an airtight thing, but it should hold up to casual scrutiny. My strange, finely woven clothing wasn't because I was a time traveler, but because I was a member of the aristocracy, and Aífe and Arash were my bodyguards.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more the cover story started to make sense to me.
"There's just one problem," I said. "We don't have any money."
Arash opened his mouth, paused a moment, and then uttered a simple, "Ah…"
Nero huffed. "Is that all you're concerned about? Just who do you think is standing next to you?"
She rummaged about in the pack she'd brought with her, and after a moment, produced a handful of silver coins that jangled against her gauntlet. "This should be more than sufficient for our purposes!"
Arash held out his own hand, and she deposited the coins in his palm. He counted them out with one finger and nodded. "Yeah, this should definitely do it."
"What if one group gets into trouble?" Ritsuka asked solemnly.
I was the one with an answer for that, and I shifted my bag so I could unzip it and release my ravens. A moment later, the two of them were perched on my hands, utterly and unnaturally still.
"We have our communicators," I said, "but I'll leave these two to keep an eye on things, just in case an attack comes."
Huginn took off and climbed into the sky, while Muninn hopped onto the rim of Aífe's chariot and perched there, looking the group over with his beady little black eyes. The city was big, for this era, but not so big that I should be out of range of my ravens at any point. Worst case scenario, I could send either Arash or Aífe off on their own.
That seemed to mollify Ritsuka, and no one else looked to have any complaints, so I grouped up with Aífe and Arash, and before we left, I looked back at Mash, Emiya, and Spartacus. "We'll leave the protection of the twins and Nero to you three, for now. Emiya, if you could get things ready, we'll probably be bringing back some fish for lunch."
He nodded, then projected a wicker basket with one hand and tossed it our way. Arash snatched it out of the air before I could.
"They don't have shopping bags in this era," was Emiya's explanation.
Silently, I was thankful, because I'd kind of forgotten about that part. "We'll be back in about half an hour. If you need anything…"
I tapped my wrist meaningfully. The twins and Mash nodded.
With all of the important details squared away, our group of three peeled away and turned down the road to start off in the direction of Massilia. The guards at the gate entrance glanced our way as we passed, but they offered no comment and didn't try to stop us, so I rolled my shoulders as I felt some of the tension drain away.
First hurdle passed.
Inside the wall was a busy city, perhaps not surprisingly so, considering it was a big trading hub and had been for centuries. It wasn't nearly the size of, say, Brockton Bay or Chicago, and it didn't hold a candle to what little I remembered of New York City, but it was just as tightly packed, and a rich, civilian population milled about the streets as they did their business.
As we walked, I pulled on the pests infesting people's homes, taking out the nuisances to begin forming a swarm that would let me keep a mental map of the city. At the same time, I scouted ahead with the bugs that were coming into my range and used their senses to figure out the direction we needed to head to get to the market.
The people around us looked at us curiously as we went. I could almost feel their eyes sweeping over my strange clothes and my glasses, the knife sheathed at my hip, my somewhat paler complexion. The instant they saw Aífe and her menacing red spear, however, and Arash, decked out in teal plate, they averted their eyes and kept going.
"It looks like this plan of yours is working," Aífe remarked quietly.
"Better than I expected it to, if I'm honest," Arash replied.
And it was. No one seemed to want to bring our attention down on themselves. They were fine with stealing looks when they thought none of us noticed, but they never did more than that, and they gave us a wide berth as we walked, making sure they never got closer than about five feet away.
I led our little team down the streets and towards the market, and as we got closer, the briny, rank smell of fish filtered up from the stalls and the docks, and I couldn't help wrinkling my nose against the stench of it. In some ways, though, it felt familiar, because it was carried on the salty wind of a seawater bay, and the closer we got, the more I started picking up bugs that were crawling about the port.
In some ways, it reminded me of home. Brockton Bay.
But the differences couldn't have been starker, because two thousand years made for a huge gap in what fishing was, and my view of the city gave me too good a perspective to forget where I was.
"How much fish should we get?" Arash asked as we approached the market.
"Given the size of them? Three should be more than enough," I told him.
He nodded. "Three it is, then."
"Feel free to pick up some bread and a few vegetables," I added.
"Of course."
He moved away from Aífe and I, and with a smile, he walked over to the nearest stall, greeting the clerk on the other side politely. Clerk? Owner? Shopkeeper? Whatever the proper term was. He peered down at the fish on display with apparent interest as he made friendly small talk, and I had no idea what kind of food he'd eaten during his life, but he definitely seemed to have an eye for the fish that I hadn't expected.
While he was doing that, I closed my eyes for a moment and turned my attention back to my ravens — just in time for a blur to race down the road, streaking like a comet for the other team waiting for us outside the city.
"Incoming Servant detected!" I heard Mash yelp through Muninn's ears.
The comet threw itself into the air and landed nearby with a crash, and it resolved into a man who stood, bedecked in golden armor and a long, red cape. A skirt of leather strips fell to mid-thigh, and a mop of short, black hair sat atop his head, windswept. The most striking thing, however, were his mad, red eyes, set in blackened sockets, that honed immediately in on Nero.
"My beloved younger sister's child," the Servant rasped in a rough, gravelly voice. "Give it up. Give it all up. That life. That body. That empire. GIVE IT OVER TO ME."
Nero gasped, and in a small, quiet voice, she asked, "Uncle?"
— o.0.O.O.0.o —
I accidentally gave you guys this chapter's notes last chapter, so...
Yeah. Like I said, I trimmed down the talk about what they were going to do next to save some space and some time, because it didn't need to be a giant, huge conversation taking up 3000 words. It wouldn't be wrong to call this chapter filler, exactly, but I didn't want to rush them to Rome in the space of a paragraph, so this is the result.
Some of the interactions in here made me smile, though. Nero can be hard to keep my head around, but she and Rika can also play off of each other really well.
Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Yeah. Like I said, I trimmed down the talk about what they were going to do next to save some space and some time, because it didn't need to be a giant, huge conversation taking up 3000 words. It wouldn't be wrong to call this chapter filler, exactly, but I didn't want to rush them to Rome in the space of a paragraph, so this is the result.
Some of the interactions in here made me smile, though. Nero can be hard to keep my head around, but she and Rika can also play off of each other really well.
Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
- Location
- Oregon
Yeah I was expecting it to be Moonboy showing up with this chapter's title. One minor mistake I should point out is that Nero is very much a pagan who worshipped the Roman gods, Christianity wasn't the state religion at this point in time. So Rika being disgusted with them shouldn't be a thing at the moment. Other than that fun chapter as always.
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- Location
- Elsewhere
Dual citizenship is hard to get.
Nero didn't say anything about being citizens of anywhere else.
James D. Fawkes
Court Scribe
- Location
- Avalon (Isle of Mists)
Sorry if that wasn't super clear, but that narration actually has nothing to do with Rika being disgusted by the Christians and more Taylor commenting that the Christians weren't the cause of sexism in ancient Rome.
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
- Location
- Oregon
Oh I was wondering if that was the case, but as you said it wasn't super clear. In fact I think the first Christian Roman Servant we've seen in Canon is the recently added Constantine. I could be wrong though of course.
- Location
- Portugal
My guess is that some Noble Phantasm is going to interact with this. Probably in favor of the main characters.
- Location
- Leeds
Ms Fiddle while Rome burns was introduced a couple of chapters before.
- Pronouns
- Him/Mr
Constatine XI should be the only Christian Roman, if you want to be annoying you can add Charlie too, but Charles the Great is a bit too German I would say.
- Location
- United States
One or two of the saints might also qualify, if memory serves. Is Saint George a canon servant, or am I mixing in fan work again?
James D. Fawkes
Court Scribe
- Location
- Avalon (Isle of Mists)
No, Georgios is canon. He doesn't get used in canon Septem, but he's absolutely canon.
- Location
- Colorado
I'm not sure exactly when Georgios was around, but if Saint Martha actually met Jesus wasn't she living in the Roman Empire? I'm not sure if she was a citizen but she was at least a resident.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
This is the living Nero, not the summoned Servant. She has no NP.
- Location
- Leeds
Nah they meant this is going to loophole one of the other United Empire or a Counterforce servant's NPs.
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
- Location
- Oregon
No she very much has her Noble Phantasm, Aestus Estus. What she doesn't have access to is her Golden Theater. Not that she needs it, she's as powerful as herself in proper Servant form at the moment. Just like Drake will be in Okeanos, and Gilles was in Orleans despite not showing up here in this Fic. Jekyll is alive in London, and I think Geronimo is America's living Servant. And there's a couple in Camelot, Bedivere, Cursed Arm and Artoria are all alive for sure and I think so is Gramps, but he might not be. Gilgamesh is the Living Servant in Babylonia.
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That didn't actually happened Nero was heavily flanderizied due to his hatred of Christians in a heavily bias manner do to how much Christian influence there was in the early to late 20th century, as when the fires of Rome happened Nero blamed the Christians and the Christians blamed Nero what actually happened has been lost to time.Ms Fiddle while Rome burns was introduced a couple of chapters before.
Also Falwkes nice chapter loved the characterization of Nero more then the entirety of Fate GO's characterization of her.
Especially because I'm pretty certain Japan doesn't do it under normal circumstances. You're either wholly a Japanese citizen or you aren't a Japanese citizen.
James D. Fawkes
Court Scribe
- Location
- Avalon (Isle of Mists)
As was stated in the chapter, as best as historians can figure, Nero was actually a pretty average emperor. Not great, but not terrible. The common folk generally liked him and his policies, but the senators and the aristocrats hated him with a passion. The problem is, the historical records we have of Nero tend to come from the people who hated him, so they're less reliable than we'd like them to be.
Who set fire to Rome? We can't be sure. Nero said it was the Christians, the Christians blame Nero, and the record keepers claim Nero played his fiddle while the fires raged, and gee, wasn't it convenient that a lot of places burned down so Nero could build the Domus Aurea?
But, like... Later Christians fiddled with numerology to connect Nero to the "Number of the Beast," so that they could paint him as this diabolical Antichrist-like figure that brought Rome to ruin. The sources we have on the "real" Nero are so biased that there's no way to tell the truth anymore.
Who set fire to Rome? We can't be sure. Nero said it was the Christians, the Christians blame Nero, and the record keepers claim Nero played his fiddle while the fires raged, and gee, wasn't it convenient that a lot of places burned down so Nero could build the Domus Aurea?
But, like... Later Christians fiddled with numerology to connect Nero to the "Number of the Beast," so that they could paint him as this diabolical Antichrist-like figure that brought Rome to ruin. The sources we have on the "real" Nero are so biased that there's no way to tell the truth anymore.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well the Nasuverse can and has taken liberties with history.
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
Probably because it's true. When you think about it, what is a Servant but a Master's first and greatest protector?
Also I just love this kind of anachronic issue and solution. People of today wear clothes way too nice for the times? Obviously they're rich merchants or nobles. How do you explain a Celtic woman with a spear and a Persian man with plate and a bow? They're hired mercenaries. It's not enough to stop people from looking twice, but it's enough to make them see what they want to see.
RoboRenee
Trans of gender
- Location
- FFXIV, probably
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Cursed Arm is alive in that time as a kid, with the Servant as a fully separate entity who has feels about this. Bedi is... different. He's explicitly not a Servant in any sense - the artifact grafted in place of an arm allows him to fight on par with one.