The first sunset of the newest Holy Grail War was about to come. Its light painted the concrete labyrinth of Tokyo's streets in a deep contrast of red and black.


At least that's what a certain man of the cloth though as he observed the upcoming night in an otherwise unremarkable church somewhere in Suginami, at the Western ends of the metropolitan prefecture, while partaking of a wine that was as red as his hair.

"Oh Lord, please forgive those who know not what they seek," he said to himself(?) in a condescending voice, typical of those of the Holy Church.

At nine o'clock in the evening the doors of Shibuya 109 were closed to the public. This famous department store which was nearly twenty years old was described as 'a shopping trip every woman must experience at least once in their lifetime'. Though its target has always been women in their thirties, slowly but surely the tendency was starting to shift in a different direction. The Sekimoto group, owners of one of the most famous clothes' brand in Japan as well as the top floors of Shibuya 109, had anticipated this change and were already working on the next generation of clothing and accessories. Economic prosperity was to be expected in the years to come, as the initiative would earn them quite a lot of profit.

Sekimoto Yuriko found herself staring absent-mindedly at the handwritten letter that laid on the desk of her workshop. She must have been really absorbed in it for, before she knew it, a lot of time had slipped past her fingertips. Its contents and intention were clear, for the most part, but it was lacking both proper closure and a receiver. Yuriko was strong and confident, a pragtmatic mage who felt ready for the ordeal ahead of her. Or, at the very least, that's how she was supposed to feel. Instead, it seemed like she had been trying to capture her thoughts in a simple sheet of paper in an attempt to strengthen her resolve. Having come to this conclusion, the blonde girl allowed herself to manifest a troubled expression across her face.



Yes, Sekimoto Yuriko was not just a very young and successful businesswoman, she was also a Mage and not exactly an ordinary one at that. Having studied her entire life to refine her family's craft and expand it through her own efforts, it wouldn't exactly be wrong to call her a prodigy given how much she had advanced in so little time. But, more importantly, she had made the decision to participate in an ancient ritual known as the Holy Grail War. Eight Masters would summon spirits of heroes from the past and face each other in a death-match where the winner would be granted a wish by the sacred cup. Initially, the premise didn't sound attractive to Yuriko, who had no real wish of her own and who saw the battle as a risk that those who weren't desperate should not pursue. However, being the kind of person who strives for perfection, she was eventually chosen and dragged into it. Her goal was the same as that of most traditional Magi, to find the Root. It did not contain malice and it wasn't born out of a real desire, instead, it was a wish to find the end of the journey that her ancestors had started.

The preparations for the summoning were complete. The room located somewhere on the top floor was lit wit just candles and decorated in a very traditional way. It was vast, for before being bought by the Sekimoto group, it was intended to be used as a movie theater. In the center of that room, Yuriko had drawn an enormous magic circle. She had done so in the morning, before attending to her usual duties. Normally, summoning a Heroic Spirit would be beyond the realm of possibility, but for the purposes of this ritual, that should be of no concern. Indeed, Yuriko's job here was not to summon the Heroic Spirit in question, but rather serve as an anchor for it to remain in the world of the living. That was the task of those called 'Masters', bearers of unique brands called Command Seals. Command Seals were markings engraved in one's skin, the proof of one's authority over the Heroic Spirit summoned, referred to as 'Servant'.

The Holy Grail will handle most of the summoning process, but even so, an offering is to be expected if one intends to summon a powerful hero. For someone like Yuriko, who aimed for excellence, it would be impossible to settle for anything less. That is why she was willing to give up the prototype of her life's work, a white's bridal dress that had been enchanted with powerful wards and imbued with Magical Energy for several years. One might argue that such an incomplete piece of work was not on par with the new and original version of the dress, however, it did not change the fact that it would be impossible to put a price tag on it. In all sincerity, Yuriko did her best to find a better catalyst that could link her with a specific hero, specifically, one whose homeland had been Japan, however, the whole arrangement had been sabotaged and it had ended up with her hands empty.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone."

With utmost concentration, she began the evocation chant. She covered the face of Sekimoto Yuriko with the mask of a mage. Immediately after, all fear and anxiety were discarded.

"Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Repeat every five times."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Five bullets were loaded into the imaginary chamber of her mind and then the trigger was pulled, turning her nerves into circuits where magical energy could circulate, an union between the real and the fantastic. A surge of pain shot through her entire body, sign that that she had broken the greatest of human taboos. As long as she kept using magecraft with a human body acting as its conductor, that outcome was unavoidable.

But being a Magus, a tool, for this many years, she's used to it.

"――――I announce.
Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."

The moment she channeled Magical Energy into the magic circle, it lit up. In reality, however, it felt almost as if the whole room had been set ablaze. It had only been about half a minute since the beginning of the incantation, but summoner was already sweating.

She instinctively raised her hand, in an attempt to contain the volatile energy rampaging within the room.

"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance―――!!!"

And then, when the right time came, she allowed it to break free.

The result was a flash of dazzling light that left her blind for a second or two.

She was sure she had been successful, even if it would take a moment for her vision to return.

She was certain that standing there was a hero of ages past.

Her Servant.

Clouds of particulate swirled about the bowl, steam rising from the tense surface hinting at the hidden prize that lurked beneath. A thick, savory aroma filled the air, mingling with the myriad of scents that existed beforehand.

Atop a bed of noodles, three slices of roasted pork rested. Crushed garlic made their way back to the surface, the copious amount of miso providing it a foothold back to the surface of the entire ensemble. Slowly, almost reverently, Brahelius brought his chopsticks to the broth, mixing together the beautifully orchestrated composition of flavor together.

After a few passes of this sacred ritual, he brought together his eating utensils, grasping inbetween them his golden prize, collecting them into a spoon before consuming it.

Extra-firm noodles.

Just as he had ordered.

His frame shuddered, palpable joy filling the air around him. An almost imperceptible tear rolled down his cheek. For but a brief moment, he was able to achieve the feeling of peace. Wondering what his life could have been to just embrace this single moment but for an eternity before it was broken by the accursed image of his sworn arch enemy.

Even on the other side of the world is he still haunted. But no longer will it be.

With gusto, Brahelius devoured his meal. Memories and fantasies of a time free of his burden filling his mind. For that was the reason he came to Japan, to free himself from that abominable cycle of fate.

A lazy glance to his right revealed his champion, his savior, his messiah. From the darkness, he shall come to know light. And the light his champion wields is bright indeed.

Even as the sunset, as the reagents for this great ritual fell into place, he knew no fear. For he will win his grand prize or die trying. Either result freeing him from the nightmare of his waking life.

"Brr... why is it that Japanese houses have so little insulation? At least these things are quite handy~" Alex said to herself as she huddled under a kotatsu in the living room of the house she rented to serve as her base of operations for this Holy Grail War. Located close to Yoyogi, it was the perfect place to hide in plain sight without having to worry with how she would go anywhere in this massive city.

"I hope that I don't end up with a bad pick like a Berserker. That would pretty much be a death sentence," she said as she drank some green tea and ate rice crackers provided to her by the grandmotherly old lady that was the house's actual owner while waiting for the sunset.

"I guess it's about time. Spirit Evocation isn't my cup of tea, but neither is matcha, still it's good to try new things every once in a while," she said, looking at the Command Spells engraved on her left hand. She was really going to do it. She didn't need, but she wanted to.

After placing the only catalyst she was able to secure in time—an old Japanese sword—in the center of a circle she traced on one of the mansion's backrooms, she intoned the words of the summoning ritual.

And... prayed this was enough to get her a shot at victory.

At another corner of the city, another prayer was being answered.

Whether or not Yuriko expected her offering to work didn't matter. The Grail had heard her pleas and selected the best Heroic Spirit to assuage her doubts. A pure white protector, as gracious as a swan, a pure warrior clad in silvery armor and a wedding gown, wielding a sword of gleaming glass.

A fairy tale incarnate, speaking with resolute voice, declaring the only words that made sense for such a warrior.

"I've heard your call and come to your aid. I'm Saber, the Knight of the Swan, please call me Odette if you so do wish, Master," she said, kneeling down before the one who called for her.

The store itself was unassuming and generic, stationed in a popular shopping street in the middle of the Suginami ward and bearing the name 'Kojima.' It was part of a chain, and while not as large as most of its competitors per floor, it had a total of four floors! They opened at 10 AM and closed at 8 PM every day, and at 7:55, one of the employees that worked there was helping a pair of late customers as quickly as he could. Normally, the employee would simply do his best to service these people with anything they needed, staying after work and closing up at a later time in order to guarantee he left a good impression. Tonight, however, was of the utmost importance to the employee and was going to alter his life tremendously.

The employee was going to achieve a wish he had since he was a child.

"Truly, I cannot recommend Eukanuba more - this specific brand is perfect for a larger dog, and it is especially effective given its price."

The woman in the couple appraised the label on the bag of dog food, while the man simply gave the younger employee a questioning stare. While he was wearing the normal uniform you would expect from a pet store, he was also wearing a red cape and a toy crown - it was an understatement to say that the man as questioning the sanity of anything that the employee was saying based on that alone. The woman took it in stride, however, and simply asked questions related to the products that she picked out for their pet.

"But will it taste alright? Our Izumi is a very picky eater..."

The employee laughed hard, head upturned and eyes closed.

"Madam, I have never met a creature who rejects manna such as this! I feed this to my Divine Advisor, Dracomar!"

Hearing its name being called, a huge Mastiff slowly meanders over, uninterested in the affair and lethargic.

"Behold his glory! Truly, a diet fit for royalty has supplied this being with such power and size!"

It was another 10 minutes before the couple had selected everything they wanted to buy from the store and left, allowing the employee to finally close up for the night. Everyone else had left early, for one reason or another, but the employee lacked that freedom - he lived on the top floor of the store, given the space by his manager in exchange for rent from his paycheck. Not that the employee was complaining - the space was fairly large and was extremely cheap due to the noise and constant light outside from nearby shops. The employee climbed the stair leading to his apartment, and quickly entered the threshold, followed by the dog Dracomar.

While normally covered in animal hair and food bowls, the entire space had been cleaned over the course of the last week in preparation for this night. The employee touched a book near the living room and the forehead of his dog - immediately, the large figure condensed into blue light, flying inside of the tome. The employee then made his way over to his room, filled with dog kennels and circles drawn on the hardwood floor in Chalk. He quickly changed out of his employee uniform and accessories, and quickly donned a formal vest and suit pants, as well as retrieving a significantly more regal-looking cape and crown from a hook in his closet, labeled 'Daisuke.'

Daisuke proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes combing his hair, plucking loose threads from his clothes, lint rolling, and cleaning his face and teeth in the mirror of his bathroom. He had to show the being that he was about to summon that he was a truly respectable master!

"... Too... Slo... w..."

Two guttural, horribly warped words hissed into Daisuke's mind, and the young man sighed as he looked in the mirror, setting down his comb.

"Survivor, this is serious - this is my chance to achieve greatness! You should be glad for me, this means you'll get to share me less with the other familiars."

Another sound leaked into Daisuke's mind, but these were too difficult to make out, so the man decided to finish up his preparation in the bathroom and move to the kitchen, where he had prepared the ritual.

The room was small, but considering the fact it was a kitchen in an apartment above a pet store, it was pretty alright. It had all the modern amenities you would expect in a normal kitchen - sink, fridge, intricate chalk summoning circle, and a countertop. Daisuke had put a large amount of time perfecting the circle as best as he could, and while he knew that the lack of Catalyst would hurt his chances of getting a particular Servant, he was confident that the ritual would go off without a hitch.

Daisuke nearly slapped himself when he remembered that he hadn't started playing the music! He quickly rushed to the living room and brought his old boombox into the Kitchen, sliding a cassette into it and pressing play. He nodded his head and adopted a serious face. Daisuke held out his hand and focused intently. The mana in his circuits, normally stagnant and unmoving, rushed to obey his command - he was summoning the ultimate familiar, after all.

"Thine body is gold and gemstone, thine will an extension of your Lord.
I gift thou everything for thine foundation - thou gift me your blade in exchange."

The room began to shudder slightly, and the mana flowing from Daisuke's body was almost visible.

"I forge a contract with thousands, and for thou, I forge it for one. Thou shall serve me, and in exchange, I serve Thou.
Let this be known - thy body is mine. Thy will is mine. Thy very being is mine to command. The Holy Grail will be mine - no one shall stand in thy path to claim it as mine!
Thou will strike down all in my path to the Grail, and in exchange, I grant thou life.
I demand this of thou, and thou shall obey thine Lord - if thou will obey me, if thou will obey the will of the Grail, then come forth!"

Sometime during the chant, a small bird had appeared on Daisuke's shoulder, flapping its wings in order to stay perched in the trembling room. With a final push of his circuits, Daisuke shouted the final verse to the summoning ritual.

"Come to me from my circle of chaos and obey! I demand it, Champion of Parity!"

The shockwave that followed was potent enough to be comparable to all of Daisuke's prior attempts at wind magic - and by that, it wasn't very powerful at all. Still, it was sudden enough to cause the bird on Daisuke's shoulder to fly off of him, and it almost immediately slammed into the boombox in its haste. The noise it makes on the hardwood floor, along with the shouting Daisuke was doing, is enough to spark the dogs a few floors down into a few half-hearted, curious barks. Daisuke leaped forwards, running to the fallen device and groveling next to it.

"NOOOOOOO!!! Survivor, my Champion of Evolution, how could you betray me like this! That boombox was a gift from Kojima-sama!"

He quickly tapped the boombox, and pressed the play button, causing the music to begin again. Daisuke sighed, relieved that he hadn't broken a present from his manager. It took a solid 5 seconds before Daisuke jumped to his feet and fixed his hair, remembering that he just performed a ritual to summon his strongest ally yet. He turned on his heel and was met with the figure of a man...

The ritual had worked!!! Huzzah! Daisuke clenched his fists and pumped his arms into the air in exuberance.

"I did it! I am a master! All hail! Ahem, tell me, to whom do I owe the pleasure, my Servant?"

Servant of the Sword, Saber. Amongst the Knight Classes, the one regarded the strongest. Yuriko couldn't help but draw a smile in amazement, being left speechless when fazed with the reality presented in front of her. Part of her could not believe the sheer luck she had had, as this development would certainly make her chances of winning skyrocket. However, what left her truly stunned was her Servant's appearance. To put it bluntly, Yuriko found her beauty to be out of this world. Combined with her mannerisms and stellar wardrobe, Saber was the carbon copy of a chivalrous knight from a fantasy tale. She introduced herself as the Swan Knight Odette. Sekimoto Yuriko was the kind of person who both knew how to use words as a weapon and was adept at reading between lines. It was safe to say that Saber was hiding her true name under some kind of alias, but she had no reason to pry any further. Knowing the legends, it was probably in her best interest not to do so.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Odette. You may stand."

Saber was being so polite that the blonde Magus had to quickly improvise to put them or equal ground, or else she might just faint from sheer giddiness. To be honest, a large chunk of magical energy had just left her body, and she was beginning to feel the toll behind the summoning. Though the exhaustion she felt was nowhere near extreme, at times she felt as if her legs were ready to give in the moment she dared to lower her guard.

"My name is Sekimoto Yuriko. Please address me in a manner that feels comfortable to you. As your Master, I sincerely hope we can get along."

At this point, it was merely a formality, since she had already been recognized as such, but Yuriko still went ahead and showed Saber the proof that she was indeed her Master. Engraved on the back of her left hand were three markings, which came together to form the image of what appeared to be a festive mask, the kind you would see in a masquerade ball.

"So, tell me, Odette, Do you fancy something to eat? I was thinking that perhaps we could discuss matters over a meal. It's about dinner-time, after all."

Masters and Servants were in this as a pair. In other words, teamwork played a big factor in determining victory. Yuriko was confident in her abilities, but there was no way for her to win this war on her own. If that's the case, then it was mandatory for them to get to know each other on a more intimate level. Careful not to step on any pitfalls along the way, Yuriko would aim towards this objective, moving forward one step at a time.

A brisk wind swept low through a lonesome street in the center of Tokyo. The few people on the side walk shivered and wrapped their coats tighter around themselves, walking by without a second glance at a particular red haired woman. She sat at a small outdoor table, alone, enjoying the bite of winter wind. She brought a small cup to her lips, slowly sipping hot tea with a pleased expression on her face.

Yes, Mercedes certainly had a lot to be pleased about.

Least of all how delicious this cafe's tea was. She savored it as she thought over the events of the last few days. Her latest mission had gone very well. The target was a man who'd grown disillusioned with the Clocktower and the Mage's Association in general. Apparently he had fled after promising the destruction of several dozen colleagues - and some feared he had the power to enact said destruction. After being sent to the Eastern nation in pursuit of the disgraced magus, she'd cornered him in a rather nice hotel. Mercedes had been prepared for anything, and expected to have to deal with the guy ruthlessly, as the vengeful types were usually the worst to deal with in her experience. It came as a pleasant surprise that the would-be 'destroyer of mage society' had eaten himself full of junk food as his ego deflated as a result of his lack of a plan. He was a superior magus, that much was certain, but it seemed that he lacked in future sight department. A second son, with a wealth of magic power and the circuits to use them, but not the willpower! Well, it worked out for Mercedes. The scene almost became comical when the man cried on her shoulder.

Mercedes consoled the man and sent him back to Clocktower - with a little something she'd slipped on his person to make sure he followed through. She expected he would, though. Now finding herself with much more free time than anticipated, she'd decided to make a mini-holiday of the rest of her time in the lovely cities of Japan. That's when it happened: a gut feeling, a surge of distant magic... a brand new mark on her body.

Mercedes stood, finishing the last of her tea and placing the cup back down on the table before making her way down the chilly street. The bright lights of the city seemed to illuminate every street, even the quiet, out of the way one she currently walked. The soon-to-be master felt light headed with... emotion. Surprise, elation, anticipation, fear, hope, curiosity. They all rushed in and out of her heart. What she was most though was excited. For whatever reason, the Holy Grail had chosen her to become a master in the latest war. What were the chances of that? She had never expected, nor intended, to ever participate in a Grail War - yet her she was.

The red head stopped in front of an unassuming building, much taller than it was wide. She stepped over the property's threshold, feeling the bristle of her bounded field as she passed it. After a quick glance to make sure the runes making up the field were holding up, she ventured quickly inside. Once the door was shut behind her, she left her hand up to her face. She admired the bold red command spells etched into her skin, not for the first time today. A grin made it's way onto her face, and she moved upstairs with a purpose. It was about time to summon her servant.

'I never was good at summoning magicks, but let's give it a shot,' she thought to herself as she drew out a magic circle, taking her time as not to commit some grave error. She had no catalyst, but that's just the way she preferred it. She got her command spells by chance, why not leave the summoning up to fate as well? After the circle was complete, she lit a few candles and sat down on the floor. She withdrew a deck of cards from the pouch on her waist and idly shuffled them, considering an incantation.

'I suppose the words don't matter much,' she concludes. Maybe out of habit, maybe out of nerves, she stops her shuffle and pulls several cards from the top of the deck and places them face down on the ground in front of her. Flipping them over one by one, she can only laugh and shake her head at the result. Six of clubs: go with your gut. Ace of hearts: a new relationship will begin. Eight of spades: an important decision will have to made.

"Okay," she chuckles, and moves to her feet. Placing her hand out in front of her with her palm facing the magic circle, she closes her eyes. Heart beating, she begins the ritual.

"Thy essence is silver, and iron.
Thy foundation is stone, and of noble rank.
Construct a gate against wind.
Travel now the branching road.
Come out from under under the Throne.
Fill it up. Fill it up. Fill it up. Fill it up. Fill it up..."

As she chanted, Mercedes could feel the pull of her mana. It seemed to be working. She didn't let the revelation distract her, continuing the incantation until the end. She opened her eyes and called out.

"Come forth, my servant!"

“Ahhaa.. This is really nice.” the tall cheerful foreigner piped up as the chopsticks in his hand poked at the slice of pork belly, barely more solid than the fatty soup it bathed in as it practically dissolved and fell apart. “It’s hard to get enough of this isn’t it master? Mhmm, mhm. It was worth coming around for sure.” Noodles disappeared with obscene, loud slurping. Manners forgotten, or rather placed to the side as instead he pursuited a more base and yet sincere etiquette. Well, that as never his strength, even if he did learn overtime. In a time like this, in a place like this he simply planned to enjoy himself as a normal person.”

The plump, springy and dripping with stock chashu became its own stock, the fat basically a liquid upon touching his tongue. The meat soon followed as each chew was less a ripping through flesh and more a softly whispered request for it to simply fall apart.

“Ah, it’s good. It’s really good. Aha, don’t you think so? Oh but I wonder what it’d be with the curry. Isn’t it weird? It’s like mixing stew and soup together. Or maybe it’s like when you got a muddy puddle of water and the mud collects at the bottom? Or maybe they blend it really well?”

The fried rice that made for a more solid staple on the side started as a mound that swiftly disappeared. Spoon after spoon digging away casually. There was no sense of rushing, or rabid gourging. Rather his natural speed and state simply devoured what was in front of him quickly. None could doubt that he fully enjoyed what he had. If anything then it could be said that he did not pause at all, that there was no delay. Even as he spoke he smoothly filled the gaps between words with a gulp of beer from an overflowing pitcher with a crown of pure white bubbly foam. Enjoying the journey, chasing after the end. That was what he, the knight of the spear embodied.

“Oho, it’s here, it’s here!” Leaning forward, rear lifting ever-so slightly in anticipation and cheer. The chopsticks in his hands twirled as a sizzling iron-pan of pan-fried dumplings was placed in front of them. “The sesame oil, the sesame oil. We can’t forget that can we?” No regards to calories, measuring the consumption of food not in energy, whether it was biological or magical. He simply ate to enjoy the moment of feasting.

The crunch of the burnt flat surface, the mixture of chives, meat, garlic oil, soy sauce and vinegar dancing on his tongue. “Mhm. Even Gawain’d enjoy this. But what about you? Aha, you must be more used to this kind of stuff right? Even if this isn’t exactly food for you back home… Home, hm? What even is home like for you anyway, master?”

The sounds of his busy eating were ever present, noticeable above the chatter and background of the stall and streets. Alleyway after alleyway, small nook and cranny spreading through the city like tiny veins bringing people together in refuge after work, in sustenance and company showing the bustle of life. Even more than the leylines, even more than something like the health of a king or emperor such streets showed better both the health and sickness of the city and country alike. This was the thing that they as servants and magi threatened with their selfishness. This was then what they had to protect as heroes.

“Ah, before you ask what home means for me… to be honest it’s a place to rest your head where you know people you like. I’ve been told that’s dumb before, but it’s true. The real mark of a home I guess is if it’s something precious to those people you like, if it’s precious enough to fight for. Something like that was the little forest I left for my mom I guess. Something like that was the kingdom for my king. Ah. It was a lot of fun, but it was sad too. But it wouldn’t be sad if it wasn’t important.”

Without a trace of a frown he spoke of his past, of what could be regrets that ate at others. In the same breath that he talked about the mother he left in grief, and the king who gave his all for the kingdom only to find nothing but a hill of bloodied swords he brought the bowl of soup to his lips and guzzled it down.

“Ah. That was good. Yo, master. You say we go looking for a fight? Or for dessert? I’m fine with either.”

Charndoisella Ariellitya

---

"Aaaah, Caster, are you enjoying the show? I hope it is living up to your expectations! My butler said it was the best anymay he had seen on the topic!"

In truth, Charlie had no actual idea what anime was. How could she? She lived the life of your typical magus, so such modern concepts were foreign to her. She at least knew what a TV was, DVD player, and so forth, even if she had personally never really used one prior. The entire reason she wanted to see one of these mythical "anime" was because she wanted her Servant to get a good feel of modern culture. Since they were in Japan, her Servant would get to experience modern Japanese culture.

Obviously, it was more savage than her own cultured ways, but alas, a backwater ritual such as this could have only been thought up by a backwater people.

Because of her desire to get a better idea of the culture of these people, she attempted to eat her good with a pair of chopsticks. She also made sure that the Chinese food she ordered came in those takeout containers. Unfortunately, she had never tried eating with chopsticks before, so the task was much more difficult than it really should have been. Charlie wasn't the type to quit, however. Instead of the proper way of using them, she merely stabbed the boneless ribs before her with them, and ate in that fashion. It wasn't very lady like, but sometimes your pride overtakes such things. Losing to a pair of chopsticks would have been far too much for her to handle.

"I hope the food is to your liking! I ordered from the most expensive Chinese delivery place I could find!"

It was 100% a ripoff, but she wasn't going to know that. In truth, she actually wasn't the one to find the Chinese delivery place. Before even ordering it, she had never even tried using a phone before. The only reason she was able to survive in modern Japan was because her butler wrote her a guide on how to survive the modern world.

This guide had illustrations showing her how to go about performing certain tasks, such as putting in the DVD into the DVD Player and pressing the play. It also came prepared with a map of Tokyo, but it seemed that the Akihabara section was more detailed than any other. Suspiciously enough, it seemed that this butler was big into the whole anime thing, to the point where his room in her family's estate was covered in anime memorabilia.

Clearly, it was but a mere coincidence.

The anime that was suggested was an old King Arthur one from the late 70's. Charlie found it fitting to show her Servant how modern Japanese public viewed her. Not the “being a man part,” literally everyone, including Charlie until a few hours ago, believed that King Arthur was a man. The more deeper parts of Arthur's character is what Charlie wanted her Servant to see. How was King Arthur characterized? These were the hard hitting questions she wanted to see addressed.

The place they were watching the anime in was a little store in Akihabara, though, Charlie read in her guide that it was better to call it "Akiba." She would sound weirder to the locals otherwise. It was standard for stores to allow customers to rent out a DVD and watch them in a little booth. You typically aren't allowed to bring food in, but using the feminine power of "hiding things in purse," it wasn't a problem for Charlie!

The downside of these types of places was that they seemed really seedy and the deeper you went into the store the more and more depraved some of the posters and DVDs became. She merely averted her Servant's eyes to such a sight, and hurried on into the little booth they had. Her Servant was too pure for such a sight.

And his Snow Doll
- Bunkyō Ward
_____________________________________________________________________***

"I realize that I've never been subtle, or simple in my desire to give you a heart that can love... But do you think I'm going to far this time?"

It wasn't often he questioned himself like this. But here Vladimir Moroz was, standing in front of a summoning circle. He had gone through quite the trouble making his workshop here in japan, but even in a simple form it was quite the looker. Numerous alchemical tubes sat on shelves, and books lay open on tables. If one was to describe it in detail it would be like trying to explain magic to somebody who didn't understand it. Pointless, and with little value. The only thing of note besides the Russian mage was the pale woman standing by one of the numerous tables. Her skin like snow, and her eyes an icy blue. Her silver hair rolling down to her her shoulders, and her lips just as pale a blue. If not for the heavy fur coat she wore, one might have mistaken her for being cold.

She said nothing, but the mage had to laugh, and shook his head. His laughter echoed through the room, and bouncing off the well lit candlelight. "Of course I'm doing this for a good reason, so of course it's fine." He said, as if that was the simplest answer. His fingers flipped through the pages of a nearby book, and he was pleased to see that his circle was as flawless as possible. "My dear, once we win, I shall have the knowledge to make you and your sisters finally whole." He said, and looked to his snowbound dear. She didn't respond, expect for a slight nod to let him know she heard.

Whole... As in able to feel the most human of emotions. Love. Something the original snow doll had, but none of the copies did. Sure, they didn't have it for a reason, but once he knew how to do it, he could find a way to avoid the messy after-affect.

This is why he left his homeland to go to Tokyo. To participate in a Grail War, and to take part in a ritual of this caliber. A wish that would push him just a bit further in his work. And to that end, he had acquired a relic from the past, and brought it here to be his catalyst. The tip of a broken sword, which to the untrained eye would have no value. But with his wisdom, he knew exactly what he had in his possession. A shard of a broken blade, once wielded by a hero.

A hero he would summon.

"Fill... Fill up your cup." He began, as magic coursed through him. "Fill up your cup, and then let it spill. Fill and then spill. Fill, and never be satisfied." What kind of hero was he hoping to summon with such an ominous incantation.

"Let your cup fill and fill, and with each drop that strikes the earth know that you are giving your life.
Fill your cup and let life blood flow into the earth, as you protect it with each breath.
Let the earth return that blood, and fill your cup again.
Fill up. Fill up. Fill up. Fill up. Fill up.
Let the cycle continue with each breath.
FILL! FILL! FILL!"

The circle crackled with energy, as if it was pulling a hero from the world itself. And perhaps that was the desire. A hero who would continue fighting no matter what. Who would fill his cup, and never be fulfilled. A man of desire, of passion. Who drew strength from the very nature of the world.



The air filled with pressure, as soon... A spirit was forming before him. Filling his heart with glee.

"Step one... Complete."


Servant of Alexa Cellesis Jupteria
_____________________________________________________________________***

You don't have many friends, do you Saizo?
What do you mean by that?

The grail ritual had a preference for heroes of Europe. So why was it calling for him? Why was it allowing him to step forth into the light, to be summoned. Perhaps it was the relic. Perhaps it was... No, it wasn't time to think of that. There was a reason, but it wasn't one he needed to tell now.

So... He answered the call.

As the light from the ritual faded, there stood a man in the center of the circle. First order of business, he looked around the room. It was traditional, and he almost felt bad for anything that might have been knocked over during the summoning. And then, there was his master. She certainly stood out, with that red hair, and those rosey cheeks. Was she the sort to summon a man like him, who cut down warlords? The summoning system was strange.

He fell to a knee, head bowing in submission. "Greetings, Master. I am of the Assassin Class." He said, as if that was all he needed to say. "Name your targets, and as the second in command of the Sanada Ten Braves, I shall slay them for you."

"Assassin, huh? Oh man, it really seems like I drew one of those shady types after all," Alex said before sighing deeply and resting her hands on her hips. The command spells emblazoned on her left still glowing with power in the aftermath of the summoning ritual.

"I mean, I'm not trying to berate you or anything like that. I'm sure you must be a super cool hero from the past if you've found your way to the Throne, but... I was expecting something more like Saber, or Lancer when I used that sword—What the hell!? How did this happen?" the redheaded girl took a second look at the summoning circle in the floor. The sword was still there but it seemed that there was something gleaming with residual magical energy under the tatami mats.

"Oh, I see. This is probably what pulled you here, isn't it, Assassin?" she said as she picked a box containing six old coins that must have been hidden there before she began the ritual.

Alex sighed once again before setting the coins aside and straightening her back. "Well, it's no use sweating over the small stuff. We will still do our best to win either way won't we, Emon?" she said before laying a hand on Assassin's shoulder.

"Err... I can... call you Emon, right?" She asked in a bashful voice while scratching her cheek nervously.

Where the hell did that name even come from?


"If the knowledge the Grail granted me is correct, Princess「王女様」would be acceptable right, My Princess?" Saber replied to her Princess' request, going with the most fitting title, in her opinion, for a knight to address her Lady.

The offering of dinner was hardly necessary on her part, but Saber could see very well that her Princess was the one in need of rest. She would not dare tarnish her dignity, however. No matter what time and culture, refusing a meal was and always will be one the greatest offenses against another.

"It'll be my pleasure to dine with you, My Princess," Saber said as she got up and extended her hand to her Princess at the same time as her armor dissolved back into the ether from which it was composed, revealing a much less conspicuous, casual dress underneath it.


The restaurant that they chose was no doubt a high class establishment. The mere fact that her Princess could get a table without reserving it ahead of time was proof of the influence she held and more proof for Saber that she couldn't have chosen a better Lady to serve.

Despite being a Heroic Spirit of days gone, Saber's etiquette was impeccable by any modern standards. None of her movements were wasteful, carrying an amount of grace that made even some of the other patrons gawk at the direct of her Princess and Saber herself.

Hopefully, the reprieve of a proper dinner helped her Princess regain her composure. After all, the prelude of this fairy tale was about to come to an end soon enough.

"Princess, I feel the presence of a Servant. They don't seem to be emanating any form of hostility, or be headed in our direction. It's possible that we can ignore them if you wish for it," she said, setting the silverware aside and finishing her wine before continuing, "However, if your wish is to fight, I shall show them the beauty of a swan dancing under the moonlight. It would be foolish to think we can defeat our enemy right away, nevertheless, they'll walk away from this night with the certainty that they victory is forever beyond their grasp."

"An ever-distant utopia, like the King of Knight's Avalon..."

For a moment, the Servant simply stood, staring intensely at Daisuke. At an impressive 187cm, the man cut an intimidating figure, the scars on his face only enhancing the frightening effect. His well-polished armour glinted in the light of the room. It was a dark suit of armour, heavy and thick. Not the shining armour of a true knight, but an efficient form of protection, fit for a king. It served to enhance his size further, casting an even larger shadow over Daisuke.

In the presence of this man, there was no doubt he was a Servant, an existence beyond humans. Under his stare, it was hard not to wither.

Not letting his gaze fall from his Master, he opened his mouth. “A king should control his subjects.” His voice was deep and resonant, and he spoke slowly and deliberately. It, too, contributed to pressure his presence exerted.

“Servant Berserker,” He said, an expression of distaste on his face. “Edward the first, of England. If you’d summoned me faster, I might have been placed in a Knight class…” Perhaps it was simply that he suited Berserker better, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to voice.

Looking at the crown and cape that his Master was clad in, Berserker grinned slightly, for the first time. “This land, Japan? You are some lord here, it appears. I will require your guidance, but not your direction.” The demeaning name of ‘Servant’ chafed; serving a master was not something Berserker could abide. Whether those titles were literal hardly mattered, considering the prison that the command seals could form in the wrong hands.

Still, his ‘Master’ seemed worthy enough, at first glance. Not a significant enough lord to have been detailed in the information received from the grail, though few were. Certainly, bringing him victory in this war would allow him to ascend to greater power - if he proved worthy.

“Consider this an alliance of kings, then.” He held out a steady, gauntleted hand for Daisuke to shake.

@Duoya

Cleo Forsberg

Summoning her Servant; Preparing for war

Few people would consider a view overlooking a graveyard to be an amenity, even one with such a storied history as Yanaka cemetery, but for a mage with Cleo’s particular set of skills having a workshop in close proximity to such a large source of spirits was a great boon. Grey eyes swept over the grounds as they peered out of the window of an apartment across the street from the cemetery’s outer wall, taking note of the pedestrians still milling about between the graves this close to sun down. It was a sombre sight, though it was said to be quite beautiful in spring when the cherry blossoms covered the many paths and main shrine road in delicate pink petals; with winter in full swing however the trees were bare and the cold seeped in to make the grief feel heavier.

Cleo turned away from the window, letting the curtains fall back into place as she surveyed her work. The cheap, rented apartment was small but sufficient for her purposes; the lack of furnishings only making it easier for her to clear space for her rituals. The summoning circle was somewhat crude, rituals of this nature being unfamiliar to her, and hastily drawn; time had been lacking once she had finished establishing her bounded field, setting her defensive wards and her guardians, and with nightfall fast approaching there had been the need for haste. Hopefully it would not impact the summoning too much.

In the centre she had placed her catalyst, an overly large femur taken from a burial site near the rumoured site of ancient Troy. Accounts varied on whether Ajax the Greater was buried in disgrace or allowed the usual honour of being burned on a pyre after his death, but a bone of this size, a human bone, found at that place in particular? It could only belong to one man. Procuring it had cost more than she had imagined, but magecraft could make wondrous things happen and money could cover the rest.

A catalyst for a hero from her own part of the world would have been easier to find perhaps, it might even have been a better fit for her, but she had her mind set on this one.

“Let the spirits be the essence; Let bone and flesh and the contract of blood be the foundation
Let raise a shield to protect against the wind that shall fall; Let the four cardinal gates close”

The bulwark of the Achaeans. Not as skilled as Achilles, nor as cunning as Odysseus, nor as fierce as Diomedes; a hero who persevered, who defended his companions to the last, who stood strong in the face of his enemies and never faltered. Surely if anyone could win this war and keep her alive at the same time it would be him.

“See now the branching road; Let fate guide your path, from the Throne to now
Let it be filled, filled, filled, filled and filled again; Five times at each passing
Come forth, Servant. Hear my call and answer; If you will submit to this will and this reason…… then answer!”

@Crusader Lord

----

Archer Actaeon

First meetings are sometimes awkward

Archer appeared in front of Mercedes, his eyes meeting hers briefly before the hunter began to look the executioner up and down as if appraising her. He looked at her eyes once more, a curious expression on his face, before turning away to examine the room they stood in instead.

The lack of a catalyst meant that the summoning should have provided her with the most suitable and compatible Servant it could, yes? Then why did her look at her with eyes full of such wariness? Why did he not speak, to ask her name or to confirm that she was his master?

@Yankee

Daisuke Nakahara

The man was definitely one of the tallest people that Daisuke had ever seen, standing at least 15 cm taller than him. Even more intimidating was the man's girth - not fat, but a heavy frame that suggested muscle, and thick armor that made him look even wider than he otherwise would. This was his servant, and without a doubt, Daisuke was pleased. This man was by far his strongest familiar yet, both in intellect and raw power, and Daisuke was proud to be one of only 7 mages in the modern day to have such a creature.

“A king should control his subjects. Servant Berserker, Edward the first, of England. If you’d summoned me faster, I might have been placed in a Knight class…"

Damn - was Daisuke too late, and made his Servant upset due to his tardiness in the war? Daisuke did his best to perform the ritual as quickly as possible, but cleaning and buying new clothes took up a week or two of time, and drawing the circle was another days worth of work. Daisuke chose to dismiss this - he had to have been among the first masters to summon their servant, since the other masters had to have taken similar steps of preparation, right?

"Apologies, Sir Edward - this was the earliest opportunity I could perform the ritual."

The servant looked around the room and observed Daisuke, before cracking a small smile. Daisuke was worried since he didn't know if this was a good thing or not at the moment.

“This land, Japan? You are some lord here, it appears. I will require your guidance, but not your direction.”

Daisuke paused at this. His Servant... WAS GENIUS!!! Somehow, unlike everyone else Daisuke had ever met before, knew that he was a man of extreme importance and should be treated as such. Man, he was really starting to make Survivor look bad in comparison.

"I appreciate the acknowledgment, and you are correct in your observation - I am a lord of great importance. I am Daisuke Nakahara."

The mention of not taking directions was another thing entirely - after all, wasn't that what familiars, and by extension Servants, were meant to do? Obey their master? Still, Daisuke was too pleased having finally accomplished his greatest wish to care much at the moment. His Servant extended one of his massive arms for a handshake, and Daisuke took it with his own (much smaller and feminine looking by comparison) hand, shaking vigorously.

"Consider this an alliance of kings, then."

"Of course - it truly is a pleasure to begin working with you, Sir Edward! Please, have a seat in the living room."

Daisuke pulled the Servant towards the living room and gestured towards the immaculately cleaned sofa, before making his way back into the kitchen. He had been heating up a meal for the arrival of his Servant, wanting to celebrate the occasion as elegantly as he could - and a meal fit for kings, it was! Daisuke picked up the hot pot with neon pink oven mitts and made his way back to the living room, setting the device down on the table.

"The first thing a king should know is the culture of any land he visits - this here is Sukiyaki, a Japanese dish that is typically served on special occasions in the winter, such as the end of the year. This is a grave warning, so heed it well - It is fairly hot since I just cooked it, so be very cautious to avoid burning your mouth."

Daisuke nearly slapped himself in his idiocy after standing there for another 5 seconds of silence - he had forgotten to bring in the bowls and silverware! He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed both the dishes as well as two sets of utensils - Sukiyaki was normally eaten with Chopsticks, and any other way was impudent to the highest order, but for his mighty servant, Daisuke was willing to sacrifice tradition. He grabbed a fork and spoon for Edward, and then made his way back to the living room, setting everything down on the table.

"I feel like you will enjoy this dish greatly - my Divine Advisor, Dracomar, consumed an entire pot full last Christmas, and ruined the event!"

Survivor hissed in Daisuke's ear, annoyed at the pleasantries and gifts that he was bestowing on a newcomer. The young master took it the wrong way and nearly cursed himself for his rudeness.

"Oh my word, I have been uncouth - I apologize, Sir Edward, you should be the one talking. Do you have any questions for me? After we get you comfortable, we can start work on the war. Personally, I think the highest priority is your code name."

@SSW

A torrent of force blasted from the summoning circle as soon as Vladimir finished his incantation, knocking everything in the general vicinity to disarray with pages flying and glasses shattering. Within the circle was a shining light as luminescent as the sun, taller than anything in the room. While it was too bright to see within the circle, all those in the room would feel as if they were standing within the shadow of a great mountain. Surely a presence this mighty meant that the Count has indeed summoned a great hero, but who could've known doing so would have brought such destruction to much of his workshop? Perhaps it was the particular summoning chant used? Maybe such a ritual would have been best performed outside?

"You should be mindful of overfilling your cup, Milord!" A mighty voice bellowed from within the light as the winds of power slowed their course "You don't want to make a mess over yourself!"

The light within the circle dimmed, though the mighty presence Vladimir felt did not once fade. If anything, the figure felt much greater the less its presence was obscured, a shadow casting itself over the magus. A statuesque man stood before the Count, standing proudly with his arms to his hips. Calling him tall was an understatement, as he stood a bit under 225cm tall, muscles bulging under his armor threatening to explode outward. The man's armor was rather simple, bearing the colors of Vladimir's homeland, and complete with a sky blue cape, flowing with the waning breeze brought forth by the ritual. He had a smile on his face, his pearly whites shining almost as brightly as those lights moments before. It was clear that Vladimir had successfully called the attention of a mighty hero from his homeland. A Heroic Spirit from the Throne of Heroes, brought forth as a Servant of the Holy Grail War.

"Sworn to protect the Motherland and its citizens, Rider Ilya Muromets answers your call!"

---

Rider knelt down soon after introducing himself, bowing his head to Vladimir, of whom he assumed was his Master.

"You have made the right choice in summoning me, Milord. Whatever your wish may be, you have my limitless strength to attain it."

Rider then raised his head, looking back to Vladimir with another grin. It was then that he finally noticed the mess he had made... Needless to say, Rider's smile turned into an awkward one.

"Ah, Milord, it seems my entrance was too grand. Would you like me to clean this mess up?"

It would be a lie to say that to say that being treated as a princess was an unpleasant experience. On the contrary, it was refreshing and immediately provided the boost of morale she had been in such a need for. Yet, it also felt awkward... As if Saber possessed a personality that did no longer exist within this world. It made it difficult for Yuriko to act like she was used to. Because Saber was so sure of herself and spoke with such strength and sincerity, finding an opening to tease her in any sort of way was impossible at this point. Hell, it was hard for her to remain composed after being relentlessly addressed as a princess by her Servant. In hindsight, she had no right to complain about anything: She had summoned a Servant of the Saber Class, and due to her code of chivalry, it was very unlikely that Odette, as she liked to be called, would turn on her. Truly, fortune seemed to be on Sekimoto's side that night.

"An enemy Servant, huh? I understand."

In a sense, the change in atmosphere helped Yuriko recover. She calmly listened as Saber addressed their current situation and later reinforced the fact that she would act under Sekimoto's orders. Whether it was fight or flight, the knight would surely obey. In spite of her unrivaled confidence, she was able to keep a level head. Saber understood that the odds of simply beating another Servant this early was unlikely, even though it was possible. That was good.

"Let them come to us."

Came Yoriko's conclusion, right before taking another sip of the cup of tea that had been served after the meal. Her honest feelings was that it was perhaps too early for her to be picking up opponents. Out of the Eight Masters in this war, she assumed at least half of them had performed the summoning ritual before her. In other words, the reason why going on the offensive was a reckless idea was twofold. First and foremost, neither did she excel at that sort of approach nor did she had access to her full magical reserves after the recent ritual. Then, if the Master and Servant in question had had more time to get to know each other, it would become a daunting task to overcome it with theirs. Although individually, these two reasons might not make much of a case, in an emergency, the could mean the difference between life and death. And, as there was seemingly no benefit from claiming the lives of another pair unless you emerge from this war at the victor, knowing to pick your battles was a must.

---However.

If Yuriko and Odette were the ones being attacked instead, the blonde Magus was convinced that it would be a whole different story. In battles of attrition, she was one to reign over her opponents and, with Saber's personal information concealed, a trade in that regard would surely be favorable if they manage to squeeze some information out of their foes.



The activation of your Noble Phantasm is forbidden; those final words never left Yuriko's mouth but a single glance at the determination portrayed in her eyes would be enough to convey the message.

Just in case, the Magus was already prepared. The hat she was wearing was an accessory that actually belonged to her main attire, diverting the attention from onlookers through an enchantment and disguising her personality to all others but the one sitting in front of her. Indeed, in this pair, both Master and Servant would be incognito.

---

"Old friend, please, will you not help me?

That man had the gall to beg him for help back then, to plead desperately for his aid, when he himself had gotten lost and tossed far from home by the whims of the gods. Especially after he and the others had disgraced him, a goddess making it so with her tricks, and had tossed aside all the help he had provided them like it was nothing.

He had guarded them all! Protected them! He had slain many lords and soldiers, guarded their ships and their dead, and yet...the only rewards he received were shame and death and madness. His end never came on the field of battle, but by his own hands, as the only one to ever able to lay a scratch on him was himself in the end. It wasn't what that one hero who had prayed for his parents might have wanted, but he could only feel a kinship of sorts for that man in the end.

"...Why do you turn away from me now, Ajax? Is your skull that thick, your head that stubborn over an old grudge wrought of pride?

We were allies, once, brothers in arms who lifted up our arms for our brethren. And i am here, seeking the wisdom of the dead that i may return home."

Bah. What did this man know of pride? His cunning had been helpful during the war, but the man hadn't done anything on the front lines until Achilles had fallen. Then the man's wily patron of a goddess had warped the minds of the others, made them think Odysseus deserved the famed Achaean's armor...when the opposite had been true.

He had been their bulwark, their shield, and their guard when all seemed lost. He had blocked the unblockable Duridanna, slain men from a great ways away by tossing spears and rocks, and more than "that" man had ever done for them out there! What had been tossed aside that day was not a mere prize...it was the very pride and might that had sustained their warriors out there.

Let the fool pay for his foolishness, and how fitting it was for the rival of that wily goddess to enact revenge upon him! Such hubris and attitude as his had been could not be left unpunished by the gods, after all...

...but no, for now there was a voice calling out for him. He could feel the call to battle surging into his mighty limbs and frame once more, and almost smell again that ocean breeze that has once wafted in during the war against Troy.

It was time. This time, there would be no regrets.

---

A great plume of smoke and light erupted from Cleo's summoning circle, though as the light began to fade she would not find her servant...well, standing at all comfortably at least. The giant of man's head touched the top of the ceiling with great and frightening ease, one of only many generic servant spear weapons he could conjure up in his hands for use being held in the right hand, and...a giant of a hoplite shield with the infamous seven layers of ox hide covering it that was being held in his left hand. His body was covered in dark armor to boot, and a light rage almost seemed to subtly glint in those blue eyes of his...framed and standing out vividly as they did among the strands of his messy blonde hair. This massive wall of armored muscle, also known as the servant Cleo has summoned, then looked down at her without tilting his head. Not that he could have if he wanted to, without pushing against the ceiling.

"...Well, you chose a hell of a spot to summon me, a Shielder, of all people in," the giant Greek said, letting out a notable sigh before moving too sit down on the floor with crossed legs. His weight hit the floor and cause the apartment room itself to very noticeably shake a bit, with the servant himself not seeming to care one bit about it before speaking once more as he set his weapons to his sides, "So, you are the little mage who has designed to summon me to win the Holy Grail? Not any of those other tricky or cheating bastards?"

Ajax let out a booming laugh into the room, which itself could virtually be felt by any living thing with Cleo's apartment proper. But before the master might get out a word finally Shielder cut in once more with his gruff and booming voice. Not that proper speaking conventions were anything he cared about right now either.

"I like that, so i'll cut you a deal:

As long as you don't screw me over and piss me off, by doing something like denying me my wish on the Grail itself or trying to make me kill myself or something, then i'll protect you with my life and claim the Grail for the two of us. But if you cross me, well, there will be no gods in this world or any other who can keep you away from me. I am not going to be tricky, or cut corners here.

Are we clear on things then....Master?"

Aias' two blue eyes looked back into the eyes of his master, like piercing arrows from a brute of a soldier who had decided to get to business and cut out the red tape. He was a warrior, not some politician or scheming cheater like Odysseus. Was one reason he'd liked Diomedes so much, save in part that he also liked that the man for not having been in on the decision for who got Achilles' armor. How would this squishy mage respond, however, to what he had just told them?

That would decide what came next.

@King Cosmos

As the swell of magic dissipated and the visage of a man appeared before, Mercedes quickly appraised the - servant, right? She'd actually managed to summon a servant despite her poor skill with summon and familiar crafts. The pull of her mana wasn't as much as she expected to be either. She supposed that the Holy Grail had helped on both fronts. Back to the being in front of her, she watched as he silently looked around. He was clad in leather and had a bow with him. That fact, coupled with the relatively little mana he seemed to draw from her, seemed to imply that he was of the Archer class. When she focused on him, information slowly began to drift into her mind. Information about the person before her. Archer, indeed. She found that a name did not come to her, but she didn't let it bother her. His lack of greeting did not upset her either. Maybe he was just the shy type.

Mercedes said nothing for the moment, instead turning to follow Archer's eyes around the room. She had rented the small space a few days ago in preparation for the ritual, and it was little more than a barren attic room with a single window letting the moonlight in.

"Depressing, huh?" she tried, looking back over at the servant. She grinned at him before continuing. "It's temporary though. I've got a place closer to the edge of the city. We'll be heading there soon... if... that's alright with you. Archer, was it?"

Mercedes held out her hand, emblazoned with the command spells, toward the spirit with a warm smile.

Servant of Alexa Cellesis Jupteria
_____________________________________________________________________***@KoL
Assassin was silent as his master questioned just how she'd summoned an assassin. Odds were he might have been the last to be summoned, or maybe she just didn't have the personality for a knight of the sword. In truth, one of his side classes was that of Saber, and Archer. Though there was a preference for a class tied more to his actions as a ninja. Something he was more famous for, and could rely on more frequently. Or perhaps he did qualify for a lancer too? There was a time he tried to impale somebody through the floorboards with a spear. That could qualify, even if he preferred to forget such an incident.

"Perhaps it is best those coins were there." He said, as if that made everything better. "The sword is not nearly as old as it looks. The handle and cloth is period appropriate, but..." He took the sword, and pulled it easily from the sheathe. "This is clearly forged using modern tools, rather than the traditional methods. A forgery for the naked eye, but something that was never used by a real warrior. As a catalyst, it's nearly useless in summoning any specific servant."

"But, forgive me for speaking out of turn." He said, lowering his head a little. "I promise, that despite my shady reputation, I am more than a mere ninja with a talent for murder. I am more than worthy of fighting any foe you seek to battle. Even if my methods are... Rather scandalous to a degree. My results are nothing to scoff at."

With that said, he eventually stood, towering over his master. Only then could she finally see his face. He was... Shockingly beautiful. In a stoic kind of way. As if his moody angst was the inspiration for every anime character ever. And he probably was.

Then, she gave him a name. It wasn't he one he was known by... But he didn't see a reason it shouldn't be. "Emon... That is a good name. I don't see why it shouldn't be my name." He brushed a finger against his chin, as if pondering it just a bit more. "Very well, I Emon shall leave soon to start scouting. with luck, I shall have all the other masters found by morning."


And his Snow Doll
- Bunkyō Ward
_____________________________________________________________________***@Cu Chulainn

Impressive. No, that was too simple a word. So many things could be impressive. This was EXTRAVAGANT! A true spectacle of power merely in presence alone! And not subtle at all. That was probably the only complaint Vladimir could decide upon, as he tended to work in subtle, rather than flamboyant abandonment. But, he could work with this in some way, he was sure of it. Might be a bit of an upward struggle with conflicting methods, but...

"Ah, I am truly blessed!" Vladimir said, as if the destruction of a small portion of his workshop was acceptable if it meant he could take on a servant like this. One of only eight, and that alone added to the tension. Had he summoned the greatest hero in all the lands, or had he summoned the weakest of the bunch. Considering this was Ilya Muromets, it seemed it might be the former. "With you leading my charge, I have the strength of my homeland right her in Tokyo! I'd brag about my summon, but that just seems like a bad idea."

He took a step back, and bowed back to his servant. "Well, Ilya, I am Vladimir Moroz. Latest in the line of the Moroz family, descended from the great Ded Moroz. I hope I can manage to live up to the reputation my family must have had, even in your time." Rising though, he looked at the damage, and nodded. "There is no need for you to do such, you have a war to prepare for. My assistant is more than equipped for such labors."

As if that was a cue, the pale woman nodded, and began to pick up the papers. Slowly... Realizing that might look bad, there was a slight spark of Vladimir's magical circuits, and the girl reacted positively. So positively... That she seemed to speed through the room. Her limbs stretching out, and her legs becoming a blur of motion. As if she was a liquid, merely slipping through the air and catching on the breeze. Within a second, all the broken beakers can been disposed off, and the papers returned in proper order. That should impress, maybe.

"Oh yes, I haven't introduced her yet. Ilya, meet Snegurochka. Snegurochka, meet Ilya. I hope you two get along well together."

Home.

A simple word that conveyed much meaning. For Lancer it was a place of rest and camaraderie. Precious memories of shared times together, each moment binding together a lifetime of experiences.

Such a definition was only slightly out of line with Brahelius' own. With an almost bitter smile, he began sedately picking at his noodles, eating them in an almost somber manner.

"Home, to me, is a place of peril. Of the continuous struggle for improvement, not for myself, but for the legacy left for me, and my descendants. The unending cycle of fate bringing ruin upon my household. Complacency has no place there, for it must be guarded continuously, even if it is ultimately pointless in the end.

Because such a thing is precious. Because to lose yourself in defeat is the same as losing your life and sanity.

Forgive me for seeming so sentimental. But home is where the heart is. Not because of anything like it being where you hold precious memories or anything like that. But because it's the purest expression of self, the essence of a being distilled and collected into one place, separated from the collective identity of mankind."

Picking up his bowl, Brahelius immersed himself within the last vestiges of his meal before cleaning the bowl of its broth, not a single drop remaining.

"That is not to say physical locations do not have their own value. The Strombe family workshop is situated where it is, even with all it's dangers and perils, because of the great advantage it grants us. And I would loathe to pass up a good room in exchange for a much poorer one.

Even in this backwater, I find myself enjoying myself far more then I would at my ancestral home. You asked me if I enjoy such meals at my home did you not? Truthfully, Lancer, often times our pantry would be low on supplies. One of the disadvantaged of living so far away from modern civilization I suppose. We would often have to carefully ration out our supplies before the next shipment reached us.

As a result, I did not have what could be called the most lavish lifestyle."

Peering into the now polished bowl, Brahelius looked sadly into his reflection, eyes far too old to belong to such a young man sitting within his sockets, before a vigor sprang into his pupils.

"But I will not dwell on such things, even if they haunt me still. I had come to this land so I can be rid of that curse, of that unbroken cycle. The moon's bane will conquer no longer once I have won this grand ritual. Finally, only then will I be home.

Only then, will I find peace."

Conviction shined through his eyes, a minuscule crack forming from the strength of his grip upon the bowl.

"Come, Lancer, the night is still young, and there are many more delicacies to try out before the war begins in earnest. We shall return to our homes over the course of this ritual. For you, new comrades and memories. And for me, I will know peace. Or else at least, she never shall.

This I swear on the name of Strombe, Thrice Cursed Moon Excluder!"