Fate/stay night 1. Chapter 1

[Prologue: Part 1]

Ragged breathing intermittent with bestial snarls broke the crisp air of the northern white night. A boy dressed in torn and bloodied shreds was charging down an alley on the outskirts of town, dead silent except for the 'things' that wanted to kill him.

From a second story rooftop, a ragged shadow vaguely resembling a wolf came hurling down at him, the boy didn't hesitate for a second.

"Gandr!" He chanted, half gasping for breath as he did so, calling up his prana reserves while aiming down the crevice of his index and middle fingers as if sights on a gun. With the speed of a lightning bolt, a series of glowing balls streaked from his fingertips into the body of his assailant, entering and then exiting into night sky trailing jet-black blood through an exit wound.

_No time to waste. I've just lost momentum._

Pivoting sharply on his heel, he whirled around, taking just enough time to acquire the targets directly pursuing him and shouted the same spell. Another hail of pale blue spheres streaked through the ally, cleansing it of life nearly instantly.

A series of thuds as his assailants fell from either the shadows or the walls onto the moderately-lit cobblestones. About two meters tall, resembling starved men with wolf's heads and claws, he took a moment to inspect them as he waited for the magic-induced pain in his arm to subside.

Chomp.

His vision flickered red for a second and he gasped at a shooting pain travelling up the left side of his body.

One of the monsters had somehow gotten by him and now had him in a death-embrace. Both arms with pinned to his sides by a trio of claws through either bicep and the creature had sunk its fangs into his left shoulder. For all the factors he felt through the midst of the sharp pain, what he strangely focused on was the strange coolness of his own blood wetting his back.

Forcing his mind into the more fitting state of defense, he mentally projected his prana, setting off a chain reaction in the magic-infused blood which had just been spilled.

"Brennen."

In the fraction of the instant after being bitten, his blood erupted into white flames, melting the beast's claws and burning it to death from the inside out as the blood it so greedily ingested combusted as if napalm. Reeling, the familiar fell to the ground and convulsed for a few seconds before falling still. Breathing ragged from the pain, the boy slumped against the brick wall of the alley.

The assessment of his injuries wasn't good. Judging by the way the world was beginning to spin, he could tell he was in fairly bad shape in the blood-loss department. The adrenaline he felt was beginning to wear off and the full pain of his wounds was catching up to him now, too. And as a final kick in the head, while the blood-fire magic he used couldn't hurt him, it had burned away half his clothes and tonight it was snowing.

In spite of himself, he chuckled at the sheer stupidity of the situation.

_Have I really come this far to die in a fucking alley?_

He closed his eyes briefly and slumped against the brick wall, permitting himself a few seconds of rest before he moved on.

"Hey, kid?" A soft voice came just to his right.

There was a slight peeling sound as he rolled his blood-smeared head over the wall and opened his eyes to focus on the source of the sound. The image was blurred slightly as exsanguination was beginning to set in, but he could still see well enough to make out shapes.

A woman was standing in the entrance to the main street from the alley, illuminated by a haze of golden light in his own blurred vision. About the same height he was, with a slender figure, and raven-black hair.

She took a step forward. The injured boy instinctively raised his arm, readying the little magic he had left. Surprisingly, she hesitated, as if somehow sensing the feebly-mustered power in the half-dead figure.

"I'm not an enemy. It's alright." She said, raising both her arms slightly and stepping a bit closer.

Strangely trusting, or more likely from simple weakness, the boy lowered his arm, sensing no duplicity in her words and likely not able to do anything about it anyway in his injured state. The sound of footsteps resumed as she approached him again.

For some time now, the boy had been keeping himself standing by sheer will alone. Pure determination. A refusal to fall. His momentary trust was enough to break that will. His arms were lead and his skin was on fire. The world blurred into a spiral.

Trying to raise himself again, the boy tried to edge away and regain his composure, but his muscles were refusing to listen to him now. The woman was now directly in front of him. At this close range, he could see her features. Aqua-colored eyes, with fair skin. She was... beautiful. There was no other way to describe it.

_I guess you're the angel of death..._ Was his last thought before passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

[Prologue: Part 2]

The boy awoke in an unfamiliar bed situated in an unfamiliar room. His wounds didn't hurt anymore either, and the angel was gone. His predominant emotion was utter confusion.

_If this is hell, it's disappointing._

As a rule, the environment itself is always the easiest to analyze when you first wake up. He took a look around the room he was in; it was spartan, bearing no signs of decoration. A cleared desk, two bookshelves, a closed closet which he guessed was empty, and the bed he himself occupied. The lights were off and the room was illuminated dimly from sunset rays filtering in through the window's drawn curtains.

_Wait, sunset? How long have I been asleep?_

That thought returned his sense of self-awareness.

Tugging the blanket off his lower half, he straightened himself on the bed, producing a slight sting from his sore muscles, but nothing unmanageable. Actually, the pain seemed to have diminished; an anomaly. He listened for signs of life in the building for a few seconds and heard none. The boy stood upright, nearly falling over from a head-rush, but managing to maintain his balance.

_A mirror... I should find one._

A second look about the room showed a mirror bolted to the door of the empty closet. His steps came relatively easy as he crossed the room to look at himself. When he reached the mirror, it dawned on him that this was the first time he'd seen his reflection in about a month.

The figure that stood before him was skinny, with clearly visible ribs, a little over one and a half meters in height. His hair was gray and the only stylistic way to describe it was "matted". That expressionless face compounded by his glazed-over maroon eyes was the same as ever. As it was the last time, the boy hated his appearance.

He looked at his own body to find it heavily bandaged along with several inscribed patches he recognized as healing charms. That must be why his fractured bones weren't paining him as much as they should have.

_Wait... Healing charms? Was I treated by a magus?_

It was a needless question. Of course he had been. The real question was why any magus would treat him now as opposed to simply killing him... Or worse. The only conclusion he could come to was that they didn't know who he was. If that was the case, he'd best figure out a way to get out of there in a hurry. However, that sort of plan usually necessitates knowing exactly where "there" is.

_Time to look around._

Apart from the bandages covering his lean torso, he was clad only in a simple pair of scrub pants, with no sign of the remnants of his former bloody attire, though the scraps were past useless now anyways. No immediately debilitating injuries meant that it was possible to move about and get a feel for his surroundings although he'd need to find a jacket or something for the sake of appearances before actually fleeing. His course of action decided, he took a few more steps and then opened the door. Descending the stairs, the boy cast a glance about the living room to find the woman he'd met in the alley slouching on the couch in the center of the room. He froze on the stairwell.

_What should I say? _

He didn't know. Should he express his gratitude? Inquire where he was? Ask what happened? No option seemed especially appropriate, so he said nothing, staring at her while he thought.

Now that his vision was clear, the young woman's beauty was even more apparent. She was of a slender build, wearing pressed slacks and a dark red blouse alongside earrings and a necklace inset with strange, gleaming gems. Her skin was fair, juxtaposing elegantly against her raven-black hair which was tied back into a lose ponytail...

"You're awake."

Her voice brought him sharply back to reality. She turned her head slightly to look at him, showing her clear blue eyes. He must have pondered at least a dozen questions in the few seconds he stood there, yet in this entranced still-barely-conscious state all he could ask was...

"Who are you?"

She blinked, furrowing her brow slightly, as if the question was unexpected. In hindsight, it was, but she answered anyways.

"My name's Rin Tohsaka."

Neither of them had actually moved since laying eyes on each other. Tohsaka was regarding him in a relaxed slouch, while he was still frozen on the stairs with one hand on the railing.

"And you? What's your name?"

He tensed. That was the question he should have been trying to dodge instead of opening the door by reciprocity. Too late to avoid it now if he didn't wanna get suspicious.

"... Zakyr." He stated simply.

The response of this 'Tohsaka' was an informed, borderline-smug smirk.

"Zakyr Einzbern?"

That inquiry should have put him on guard. It should have made him ready himself for a fight. Instead, it just made him seize up, dumbstruck, without activating any sort of magic or defense mechanism. Before he could say anything, she chuckled, then motioned him over.

"Sit."

He obeyed almost mechanically, slowly crossing the room towards her with both his mind and his heart racing.

Did something give him away or did she know beforehand? He had taken nothing when he fled, so there were no personal effects to betray him. He was marked, of course, but not many people would check the eyes and even fewer should have known what those indicated. It was far from conclusive evidence in any case.

Still, he could tell she was far from ordinary assumptions; she gave off an almost regal air. Despite his acclimation to royalty as an Einzbern servant, Zakyr felt somehow unworthy as he approached her. Wearing only bandages and scrub pants draped over an unhealthily skinny frame, gazing into those burning eyes with his own flat emotionless ones...

_What the fuck am I thinking?_

He mentally smacked himself back down to reality. Sensing her prana levels, Zakyr assessed her own magical capacity as being far greater than his. If she considered him a threat, he seriously could die here. This was no time to be concerned over trivialities.

The whole eight or so steps it took to cross from the stairwell to the couch seemed like a marathon. He sank down into the couch next to her wordlessly, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

_It's no guess. She knows. Which means that if she was going to give me up, she'd have done it already. I should hear what she has to say._

Tohsaka surveyed him for a moment, then decided to start by filling him in on what had happened while he was unconscious.

"You passed out: prana depletion, blood loss, blunt trauma, compound-fractured bones, severe exhaustion... I couldn't just leave you there."

_Why not?_ Zakyr thought to himself in a brief gap in her speech.

"So I brought you here." She concluded before looking up with a fond smile, as if thinking of some incomprehensible joke. "Thanks to a certain idiot I know, I've had more than enough experience treating wounds of all varieties, so you'll be fine."

"..."

Zakyr still said nothing. It seemed best to get as much information as he could before saying anything himself. At this close distance, he kept his eyes averted as Tohsaka spoke. She tilted her head slightly as if expecting him to say something, then narrowed her gaze as if annoyed.

"You're welcome."

He looked up, embarrassed at having forgotten his manners.

"Sorry, I'm still a little out of it, I guess. Thanks, M'lady." He responded with a slight bow of his head.

He attempted to stand, but was stopped cold by hand pressing him back down on his chest.

"Hey! You try to keep running now and you'll die for sure! At least stay here until your injuries heal, idiot."

Yeah, she was definitely nobility in her own mind if not reality. Zakyr was now set in that conclusion.

"I don't mean to impose." He attempted to dismiss himself.

"You already have. Also, saving you wasn't easy or fast, and I'd rather not see all that work go to nothing straight away. So stay here for a bit longer, then go back upstairs and rest." She said authoritatively.

Was she annoyed or concerned? Zakyr honestly could not tell. Both maybe? Alternating between one and the other? Something else entirely? Whatever it was, he had the sense to follow her direction and acknowledged her with a nod.

Pleased with his obedience, Tohsaka reached over to a tea set on the table adjacent to the couch they were both sitting on, poured two cups, and passed a cup and saucer over to Zakyr. He took it wordlessly, trying to avert his eyes in the offhand chance she knew the markings.

"So, Zakyr... You're a homunculus, aren't you?"

So much for that.

"... What makes you think that?"

"I knew another renegade Einzbern a while back. You look kind of like her."

For a moment, Zakyr completely forgot his situation and focused on that statement.

_Another?_

As far as he knew, he was the first one to have ever run away, or rather, to have succeeded. Failures were little more than guard dogs who mindlessly roared the Einzbern grounds. Successful homunculi had either been eliminated or killed in action. Even now he saw the others in his mind, a pile of flesh built from those who had failed in their purpose...

"Well, judging by the fact that Einzbern familiars are trying to kill an Einzbern homunculus, it's a pretty safe guess that you've fallen out of their favor."

Perhaps showing his first genuine sign of emotion, he snorted. "You could say that."

"Then tell me what happened."

The request mixed with a command made him tense. He shouldn't say anything; it was safer that way... But maybe it wouldn't hurt to confide just some of his story. As a record in the likely event of his failure. Yes, that would be permissible.

He took a sip of tea. The first time he'd ever had tea in his life, actually.

"Huh... It's good."

He then began.


	3. Chapter 3

[Prologue: Part 3]

The Einzbern family has sought the holy grail for over a millennia; a relic of immeasurable power which utilized the souls of heroes as fuel to carry out a reaction which could distort reality. A wish granting device, a gate to another world, a font of sin incarnate... It was the ultimate prize.

The problem for this ancient family was that the grail itself must be claimed in a war, a war which uses its own casualties as necessary ritual sacrifices. And for all their prowess in other areas, the Einzberns were not warriors.

In the last two wars, they attempted to remedy the problem in two different ways: The first time by bringing an outsider, specialized in combat, into the family fold. The second time by creating a homunculus, an artificial human being, designed for combat yet unable to attain the grail on its own.

Both attempts failed. The outsider betrayed the family and his name was still uttered as if a curse. The homunculus journeyed to the battleground and performed admirably for the initial stages of the next war, but then her Servant was killed and she disappeared off the face of the earth. In a war, this sort of disappearance is as good as a KIA report.

Still, a family as venerated as the Einzberns does not survive a thousand years without the ability to learn from their mistakes. True, both experiments had failed in the long term, but had not been completely without results. The accursed outsider fielded an impressive combat record and actually had managed to become a finalist in the war before his betrayal. The homunculus had been a loyalist who managed to support an exceedingly powerful servant and fared rather well in the initial stages of the war. The story of each could offer lessons.

The field of magic in which the family excelled at was a twisted form of 'creation'. The alchemists of Einzbern lineage were peerless, perfecting the art of birthing monsters through centuries of trial-and-error. Monsters, soldiers, and slaves could be specifically created as the need arose. The shambling hordes of failures produced roamed the freezing fiefdom. It was this fundamental skill they decided to gamble all their hopes on after all outside options had failed.

When the next holy grail war was foretold, a new plan was formulated almost immediately. For this war, the Einzberns were willing to rig the entire system. This time, they would enlist two masters, both homunculi, with additional levels of control. The two most malleable homunculi were selected from the Einzbern ranks and underwent a nightmarish series of procedures designed to cast them into these pre-determined roles: the 'warrior' and the 'courier'.

The warrior homunculus was selected to be the grail's physical form and be a perfect combat model, who would be able to crush all opposition but be unable to obtain the grail itself. The courier was an intelligence operative, a support designed to hide behind the warrior until those two were the only masters left.

Once that occurred, the 'warrior' would be sacrificed to become the grail and the 'courier' would be the nominal victor by virtue of being the only master remaining. All that homunculus would need to do would be to step forth and claim the grail for delivery, then his task would be complete.

Zakyr finished his tea after explaining this.

"And I... was to be the courier."

He said it with a voice full of bitterness. Tohsaka said nothing, but her eyes were once again glazed over with thought.

Looking back over his own words, he had kept his description as general as possible. In particular, it was odd referring to his predecessors as "the outsider" instead of "Kiritsugu" and "the homunculus" rather than "Ilya". He'd decided he should keep his speech generic for the time being. After setting down his saucer, he continued.

A month ago, Zakyr abandoned his pledge. Taking nothing and planning nothing, he fled the castle into the desolate wasteland surrounding it. By nature, it was going to be a difficult trek. The lands surrounding the Einzbern home were completely desolate, empty. Local legend said the wilderness was haunted: it was right. All manner of monstrosities, familiars, and failed experiments had been abandoned on the hallowed ground. Even before the Einzberns realized he was gone he'd had to fight for his life several times. This was the easy part.

It didn't take his former guardians long at all to realize he'd deserted. Prior to his discovery by Tohsaka, not an hour of the last three weeks had passed without some kind of attempt on his life. As a 'courier' rather than a 'warrior', he'd done his best to avoid battle. But some things were inevitable. He ended the curt tale unceremoniously where he had passed out in the alley. Silence.

_No questions about me. Good, this was a better outcome than I hoped for._

The Magus in red, Tohsaka, seemed completely disinterested in his own story after hearing of the reason for his creation, so he simply stopped talking. Yes, that likely was the more interesting part for an outsider. And it was a bit to take in at once, he supposed. Allowing Tohsaka time to think, he stopped his explanation and thought back upon the memories that had resurfaced...

_"If I'm gone for a really long time, don't get impatient. I want you to stay exactly as you are. Can you do that?"_

_"How... How long do you think you'll be gone for?"_

_"It doesn't matter, just promise me."_

_"..."_

"HEY!" A clap of hands right next to his ear brought him back to reality.

Zakyr finally refocused his eyes and glanced around, reminding himself where he was. Tohsaka had apparently finished her contemplation of the Einzbern plan. Far from the pensive look she'd born last time he looked at her face, she now looked angry that he'd been ignoring her.

"Sorry, something on my mind."

An unamused look.

"Well, try to keep your head out of the clouds for right now. Tell me, how is the grail war even still going? Six years ago... we should have stopped it!"

Zakyr blinked. It was his turn to be confused.

"_We_?" He quoted.

"Answer my question first."

It looked like a give-and-take was the only way either of them were gonna get anywhere. He sighed, trying to recall what he had been told.

"At the end of the last Grail War, the ley lines of Fuyuki were shattered during the dismantling of the war. It was a noble effort, but that didn't mean the grail itself was irreparably damaged. There've been seven-hundred-twenty-six different manifestations, after all. That's way too many for the Grail itself to be dependent on a single place or a set of ley lines. All it meant was that we couldn't use Fuyuki again."

Tohsaka bit her lip.

_That... Was that really all we did? Deflect the misery onto someone else?_

"Where and when is the next grail manifestation taking place?" She asked in a severe tone.

Zakyr said nothing, unsure if he should divulge that precious bit of information. Sensing and understanding his hesitation, Tohsaka seemed to grow angry again.

"Hey! I just saved your life! You're under obligation to answer!"

_She's certainly not shy. Reciprocity is a bitch._

"Five years from now. As for where... An American ghost town. I can show you if you've got a map."

"I'll find one later."

_Later? So I guess we're gonna be spending some time together_. Zakyr was unsure how he should feel about that.

"So, your turn. What did you mean 'We'?"

She was silent for a minute, once again lost in thought.

"M'lady?"

She sighed. "Are your wounds alright? It's kind of a long story."

He nodded. "I'm fine."

Tohsaka began her recollection of the events in the fifth Fuyuki Holy Grail War.


	4. Chapter 4

[Prologue: Part 4]

Several hours later, Tohsaka had finished her story. Now it was Zakyr who had fallen silent. Much of it was things he already knew - what the grail was and what it contained, for example. Most, however, was completely new to him. The true natures of Servants, their names, details of the battles he only knew from general descriptions, and above all else, the participants... Their stories...

_Ilya had survived after the war. But.. Why didn't she... No. Could she... No. Did she mean to... No._

He was running his mind in circles from the influx of new information. There was an answer there. One he should have resigned himself to ages ago.

_I've never been the one that was important. It's your nature... 'Courier'._

Dimly, he tried to force his mind away from the subject. This would eat him if he let it.

The quixotic scenario that he was currently drinking tea with a previous bloodline nemesis who had just saved his life dawned on him with an almost disappointing blandness. The boy was trying to think of what to say and finding no appropriate words.

With silence once again permeating the room, Tohsaka became aware of his plight.

"Well, I think we've talked long enough. You should be getting back to sleep so you can recover." She finally broke the silence.

He shook his head in response.

"No... I should go altogether... now."

As he tried to rise, suddenly he felt a sharp tug on his wrist and promptly got smacked in the head.

"The hell?"

Tohsaka yanked him back down into a sitting position next to her and gave him a serious look.

"I've said it already; wait until your wounds heal at least, idiot. Besides, we still have a lot to talk about."

Tilting his head in disbelief, Zakyr stared at her. He had information she wanted, this was true, but that wouldn't justify the concern about his well-being. Was she just a kind person or was there some ulterior motive? Nonetheless, as a former groom, he knew an order to be obeyed when he heard it.

In deference to Tohsaka's will, he nodded. She kept her eyes locked on his for a second before releasing his wrist.

"Good. Then go rest now... I have a lot to think about."

Wordlessly, Zakyr started back up towards the room he had awakened in. He knew he wouldn't sleep, but that was irrelevant now. For the time being, he wanted to be alone.

"Zakyr?" She called after him. He paused and turned his gaze to her.

"You can call me Rin."

After watching Zakyr disappear up the stairwell, Rin rolled her head back and sighed deeply. Everything in her life had just exponentially increased in complexity. The Magus Association had assigned her to uncover the truth behind a series of particularly destructive duels in the last week; an assignment she received practically by virtue of being the only competent magus in the country. All she expected was a pair of magi factions with some petty grudge.

_Instead... I got this._

A renegade homunculus on the verge of death escaping a plot she'd deemed impossible, a painstaking reminder of fallen friends, and a prophetic warning about the resurfacing of a catastrophe she'd been certain was long-since buried.

Her slim hand tightened around her teacup's handle. She hadn't touched it and just pensively stared at the light reflecting off the surface for a minute before rising up from the couch and dumping it into the sink.

_The Holy Grail War is coming back... It wasn't something that could be stopped. If it was, everything would have ended six years ago. So if you can't stop it... how to handle it?_

With that thought, she realized she hadn't questioned Zakyr as much as she should have. Still, she'd have time to do that later. It wasn't as if the Grail War was starting tomorrow.

Rin sat back down into an armchair and found herself remembering Ilya, that eccentric young girl from the fifth Fuyuki grail war. In appearance, the two were just barely separated by the gender and his marks of maturity Ilya had lacked; otherwise they had the same fair skin, delicate build, and their eyes... that exact same shade of maroon. His, however, seemed more flat, more lifeless than hers. Perhaps it was due to Zakyr and Rin having just met, but his personality as a whole seemed more like that. He gave the impression that he had never formed what could be called an "identity" beyond surface interactions.

_Wait. There's a logical inconsistency there. _She noticed as she analyzed his mannerisms in comparison to the context of his speech.

For starters, running away from home is a difficult enough feat for humans, regardless of how richly it's deserved. It's obviously even more difficult when your former jailers have both the means and the desire to hunt you. From what she'd heard, the Einzbern castle was a guarded, bounded, and desolate place from which escape should have been impossible. And compounding that, homunculi have failsafe mechanisms... They shouldn't be able to contemplate running away at all. Fleeing in spite of all that should have taken a tremendous amount of charisma.

_So what was his reason?_

This motivational query was something she couldn't let sit.

_Unpredictability is what happens when you don't understand someone's motives... And I'd hate to have just saved someone who wants to destroy the world or something._

Rising once again, she walked towards the stairwell. If he had gone back to sleep she could just leave him be, if not, for the sake of rectifying a discrepancy Zakyr shouldn't have issues answering a simple question. The townhouse Rin had been using as a temporary base wasn't large. She reached the room she'd left the homunculus in quickly. As she motioned to knock...

"Come in."

She wasn't startled. She'd made no attempts to mask her footsteps and had sort of suspected he might not be sleeping anyways. As per usual, she was right. As she entered, she found Zakyr slumped into the chair at the empty desk, staring out of the window at the last dying rays of sunlight. His wounds didn't seem to be bothering him.

"Something you need... 'Rin'?" He asked without looking at her.

"Zakyr... Why did you run?"

"..."

He didn't meet her gaze and said nothing for several tense seconds. Finally...

"I can't let the Einzberns have the holy grail."

_Odd choice of words._ Rin thought. There was another logical query following this.

"Do you want it for yourself?"

This time, Zakyr did turn to her and met her eyes with his own. This time, far from his prior glazed expression, they were full of fire.

"..."


	5. Chapter 5

[Five Years Later: 2/10]

_**BANG.**_

The shock of a sudden sound and vibration in unison woke Rin up with a start. She looked around in the state of utter confusion that follows a sudden waking.

Her head had been resting against a cool glass window. Outside was... a blur where the ground should be and a milieu of stars above it, untainted by urban lighting.

"Sorry, did that wake you, milady?"

Turning her head to the left, she saw an older Zakyr from the one she'd just been conversing with in her dream. Slightly taller and more elegant-looking, with better-kempt hair and a pair of rounded sunglasses over his eyes. His gaze was perpendicular to her and his arms were outstretched, resting on... a steering wheel. He was driving.

_Oh... Right... I must have fallen asleep._

She yawned and stretched as best as the interior of the car would allow. It was hardly surprising. The two had just endured a horribly long flight earlier that day and Rin couldn't sleep on planes. Both she and her apprentice had jetlag. Once they'd secured a car, Zakyr had taken over driving and she had just curled up in the passenger's seat.

_I dreamt of that day. The day we met... Why 'that' day?_

"You can still probably sleep for another hour or two if you'd like."

Rin shook her head. She had already mostly come back to reality.

"I'm good, Zakyr."

A sleek, new sportscar tore through the empty night juxtaposed against a mostly-forgotten street that was already starting to wear away at the edges. Its driver was easily doing twice the speed limit, but that hardly mattered in this desolation. The purpose of the occupants was both clear and macabre: to fight, kill, and possibly die in the seven-hundred-twenty-seventh official Holy Grail War. Their destination was an American Ghost Town called Grimshiel.

It's a mistake to think of magic as a static concept. 'Sacred ground' this, 'consecration' that, most magi were truly limited by this archaic line of thought: that for power to exist in a place, it had to have been there to start with. Most magi would think that Boundary Fields were the upper limit of area enchantment. The concept of creating new sacrosanct ground, while well-known to the Church, was almost alien to the Magus Association. This was, in part, why the Einzbern's choice of a new host city was so brilliant.

The town of Grimshiel was originally an industrial mining town, located in northwest America. Until the 1980s, the population was about ten thousand. One day, though, some accident had occurred in the mining tunnels, what it was exactly wasn't clear, but the end result was the uncontrollable eruption of a mine fire. The tunnels collapsed or became an inferno in a matter of seconds. Several hundred workers were burned to death almost instantaneously and the city itself was bathed in a cloud of toxic gas. The collapse of the mines and the upwelling of poisonous gas rendered the city seismically unstable. Summarily, in the blink of an eye, the town became a portrait of hell. Relief efforts barely saved a third of the populace.

What mattered was that these old tunnels, filled with fire, toxins, and most importantly sacrificed souls inadvertently formed the perfect underground series of ley lines. Grimshiel was the location the Einzberns had chosen for their revival of the holy grail war.

The Church had almost immediately given their covert blessing primarily due to the desolation of the site. In the previous Holy Grail Wars, civilian casualties had always been a problem; even with near-instantaneous reaction and the highest-level warding spells, some people were inevitably killed in the crossfire. This was inconvenient as far as the whole 'preserving secrecy' thing was concerned. This was to say nothing of Masters who specifically hunted civilians for prana.

Here though, there were no civilians. Grimshiel was a genuine ghost-town. The ground was prone to caving in, the air was filled with carcinogens, and the streets leading into it were walled off. The only life that city would likely support for the rest of its existence was that of Masters and Servants, and that was even if one counted Servants as 'alive'.

It was a hostile environment, but nothing a Magus could not overcome. Both Rin and Zakyr had implanted purification gems into their trachea before leaving Japan. Other magi would have found other ways to deal with the toxic environment as well. Perhaps this choice of a dead town was fitting; having nearly lost their chance at the grail forever, every Magus family keen enough to know about it would be treating it as a last chance. This war would be more brutal than any that had come before.

Inside the car, Tohsaka Rin was sitting in the passenger seat, staring off into the empty night as her thoughts returned to her. Zakyr was driving in a seemingly pleasant mood. Perhaps it was his history in the borderline-luddite Einzbern family, but he constantly found modern technology as fascinating as a child might when playing with a new toy. Rin hated driving anyways, so she might as well let him play chauffeur.

She checked her watch. It was only about ten at night locally but they were still on Japanese time and neither had slept on the plane flight anyways. They were exhausted but neither showed it in any way apart from the dark circles around their eyes, and Zakyr usually looked like that anyways.

The pair had flown from London to Berlin to Istanbul to Oslo to Moscow, each visit accompanied by a hectic search, before finally landing in Fuyuki. They had stayed there for about a month making their final preparations for the Holy Grail War.

Looking over at her apprentice, Rin was pleased to see the edginess that Zakyr had been wearing previously had pretty much worn off. Staying in Fuyuki typically had that kind of adverse reaction in him. Despite Rin's guardianship of that realm, Zakyr made no attempt to disguise his disdain for it. She supposed it made sense, but at the same time it was something she needed him to swallow. As per usual, despite his complaints, he was willing to follow her lead.

Thinking about all this helped distract her from the fact that she was hurdling through a foreign countryside at a ludicrously fast speed in a steel box being driven by someone with no license who was wearing sunglasses at night.

"Hey, Rin?" Came Zakyr's voice. She turned to him.

"Yeah?"

"How long do you think it'll take to set up a base of operations once we get there?"

She sighed. Zakyr had brought up a valid point she'd been trying to ignore. As much as she'd have liked to have a proper night's sleep once they arrived, there was no place for it as of yet.

"A few hours, at least. If we get lucky and find some building's shell we can use, less, but I still don't think either of us are gonna sleep much tonight."

He gave a hollow smile in response.

"Not an issue for me."

Zakyr hated sleeping. Rin smiled to herself thinking about what a good watchdog he made by virtue of that fact alone.

"Anyways, we'll be arriving about four days before the summoning. That gives us more than enough time to prepare the ritual and scope out the land."

Behind his glasses, Zakyr's left eye twitched slightly.

"Prepare? I thought finishing our preparation was the whole reason we visited Japan?"

Her response was explanatory, but had a slightly mocking feel to it.

"Part of it was, but there's a bit to do once we arrive there as well - setting up boundary fields, summoning of familiars, and whatnot. Besides, what? I can't visit old friends?"

"You could have left me back in London."

"Then who would have kept me company on the flight?"

Her apprentice scoffed and Rin looked away again. Her eyelids still felt a bit heavy.

"... Actually... Maybe sleeping a bit more is a good idea while I can. Try not to hit anymore potholes this time."

"As you wish, milady."

She turned her back to him and smiled slightly. As opposed to how he'd been when the pair first met, her apprentice was now aware of how antiquated that title was, but he still freely used it, even switching it for "Rin-dono" when they spoke Japanese. Unlike the first time though, he usually called her that to indicate she was behaving a bit spoiled. Maybe she was, since he had to drive and she could sleep, but such were the privileges of being able to delegate.

_Besides, I think you'd prefer I acted spoiled than cranky._

She slouched sideways in the leather chair and drew her arms inward as she closed her eyes. She settled back down remarkably easily. Her expression slackened and her breathing rate slowed. Out of the corner of his eye, Zakyr watched her delicate form relax gradually until she was asleep again.

Once Rin was asleep, Zakyr kept silently watching her for a few moments as he drove on the empty road, gradually slowing down. He carefully took his left hand off the wheel and rotated his shoulder to slide his arm out of his coat sleeve. He then repeated the process with the other arm. Once he'd slithered out of his coat, taking infinite care, he laid it on top of his sleeping master.

With both hands back on the wheel, his gaze turned back to the empty road before him. He pressed harder on the gas pedal, re-accelerating until the ground was once again blurred with speed. He stared into the blur as one might when examining the strokes of a painting. This eye-of-the-storm spectatorship was like meditation to him. Zakyr's movements became automated and he let his mind drift...


End file.
