Vladimir Moroz
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.
"Answer my calling. Answer my prayer. Answer the summoning and never beware!"
The air filled with pressure, as soon... A spirit was forming before him. Filling his heart with glee.
"Step one... Complete."Assassin
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."