//------------------------------// // Act 1 - Preparations // Story: Fate - Clara Sole // by cullexoh //------------------------------// Act 1 – Preparations. Most people, upon meeting Chas Chandler, would assume he was just a likeable fifty-something London Cabbie who knew the streets of his hometown like the back of his hand, better even, but other than that would otherwise assume there was nothing else to him. They, like countless others not in the know, would be entirely wrong, as there was more to Chas Chandler than one would first assume. For starters, his name wasn’t actually ‘Chas’, and good luck to anyone who tried getting him to reveal his real name who wasn’t his wife, his priest, or in possession of a warrant, badge or no badge. For another, for a simple London Cabbie, Chas had experienced more than his fair-share of run-ins with the Supernatural 'Moonlit World', but then that was often the case when your best mate was a Bloody Demon Hunter. And yes, that was what he preferred to be known as. With all that being said, it should go without saying that Chas was more than used to carrying those of a, for lack of a better word, ‘Magical’ Persuasion in the back seat of his Cab, enough so that he knew better than to try hike up the cab fare by taking the more scenic routes to their destination unless they purposefully instructed him to deviate from the direct path out of paranoia, or, as was the current case, when they instructed him to take them straight to their current destination. “'ere you go luv’, the British Museum.” he called out, snapping the sleeping beauty in the back seat out of her doze, having slept through the entire trip from Heathrow airport “That’ll be Thirty Quid.” “Keep the change.” the redhead grumbled, suppressing a jaw-cracking yawn with one hand even as she handed Chas a crisp fifty-pound note over, glaring pointedly at the rain that was pummeling the windows. “You wanna stick about for a bit till it eases off a bit luv?” Chas offered, feeling a bit charitable in the face of her generosity, as in all honesty he wouldn’t put a dog out in that weather and the woman looked like she’d had a rough flight as it was, if the bags under her eyes were any indication. “I’ll be fine, thanks for your concern.” she assured him, offering him a grateful smile that suited her far better than the scowl ever had even as she pulled the collar of her trench coat up and stepped out into the downpour, Chas looking on as she made her way up the stairs, noting with detached interest how the rain seemed to stop a few inches from actually touching her, leaving her perfectly dry as she vanished through the doors to the Museum. ‘Huh, wonder if John knows a spell like that?’ he wondered, recalling the many times the chain-smoking Liverpudlian had complained about being caught in a downpour that left the backseat of the cab damp for days, before shrugging offhandedly and taking off. “Be it ever so humble…” Sunset recited with a sigh of relief as she dropped the spell keeping out the rain the moment the massive doors slammed shut behind her, only to scoff halfway through, as if there was any world less appropriate to describe the grandeur that was the Clock Tower, it was ‘humble’. To the outside world there wasn’t anything particularly notable about this particular wing of the British Museum, indeed, to the uninitiated this Wing officially didn’t exist, which made it the perfect location for the current headquarters of the Mages’ Association, the self-proclaimed ‘breeding ground for aspiring tyrants who sought to make their mark on the world’, or simply The Clock Tower for short. While the various Thaumaturgical Societies typically did their own thing, there was no denying that the Clock Tower ran the show, at least so far as the Western World was concerned. While there were certainly older organizations that refused to join for various reasons, given the general disdain Western Magi had for their Eastern cousins it was generally accepted that nothing of value could possible exist outside the Association’s walls. Indeed, as far as Western Magi were concerned, the Clock Tower held as much importance as the Vatican did for Christianity, having produced countless First-Class Magi from as early back as the birth of ‘England’. In short, at least as far as Sunset was concerned, it was simply a more lethal version of what Sunset had been forced to endure at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, both prior to and long after she’d been accepted as the Princess’ Personal Student and had to deal with the Canterlot Upper-Crust. Seriously, the only difference between Magi from ‘Established Families’ and the average Canterlotian was that the former didn’t walk around with their noses in the air all day, if only out of an innate sense of self-preservation, and that shows of one-upmanship at the Clock Tower could prove fatal for both parties if the loser was from a superior clan with strong ties. ‘The old me wouldn’t have lasted five minutes.’ She mused as she passed by a group of female students, unable to help smirking with a hint of her old pride as she caught them marveling at her hair, only to curse as someone bumped into her as she rounded a corner “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” “Ow~! Sorry about that!” a familiar voice groaned, Sunset internally rolling her eyes as the speaker, a blonde twenty-something year-old, blinked up at her in surprise “Ah! How’s it going, Hikaru-Bancho?” “Just Hikaru will do, Flat.” Sunset sighed, reaching down to help the younger Magus to his feet, marveling once again how spry he was. “Last I checked Waver was your master, if anything you should be calling him boss, not me.” “Well, Professor El-Melloi is pretty cool.” The teen, Flat, agreed with a smile as he set about picking up his books “But I don’t think it’d be right to treat the Great Big Ben London Star like a Gang Leader.” ‘I don’t recall becoming a Gang Leader either.’ Sunset noted to herself even as she scoffed at the blonde's title for his Master, knowing from experience that nothing could send the normally unflappable man into a rage. Born the heir of the Escardos Family of magi, Flat had been deemed a prodigy, at least in terms of Magecraft from a young age even prior to arriving at the Clock Tower. Even Sunset would freely admit that, when it came to picking up spells on the fly, Flat was easily her superior. Back in the old days, she probably would have resented the innocent-faced blonde, seeing his innate talent as a threat to her own standing, as was sadly the case with many of his peers and lecturers at the Clock Tower. However, even if she hadn't mellowed out over the past decade, she'd have quickly gotten over her enmity due to one simple fact: While a Genius at Magecraft, when it came to Common Sense, Flat Escardos was absolutely hopeless. It was almost jarring to see how such a talented person could be so ignorant of the myriad social ques that even the most introverted Magi managed to retain. As it were the only reason he hadn’t violated the First Law, namely revealing the existence of Magic to the public, was out of a desire to avoid upsetting his Master, the only person to have accepted him. And as it just so happened, Flat's Master just so happened to be the person Sunset was here to see, the redhead shaking her head with a sigh as she knelt down to help the blonde clean up “You need some help carrying these? I’m heading to Waver’s anyway so I don’t mind helping out.” “Ah! As expected of Hikaru-Bancho!” Flat exclaimed, beaming up at her with a smile so innocent you’d be hard pressed to believe this was the same kid who turned an entire school of Thaumaturgy on it’s head simply by ‘looking at it from a different point of view’ “Always looking out for your subordinates, but never willing to admit you’re doing so, right?” “Whatever.” Sunset sighed, knowing better than to argue with the boy, as once Flat got an idea into his head the only way to remove it would be to erase his memory and prevent him from encountering what put it there in the first place. While she highly doubted Waver would care one way or the other if she erased his apprentice’s mind, Faust only knew the man had been forced to do so himself more than once, it would only prove a waste in the long run, as there would be no preventing her running into Flat down the line, given how closely she worked with his Master. “I’m back, Professor Velvet!” Flat cried out, the twenty-something year-old bursting into the man's office with the exuberance of a toddler, complete with innocent, eager to please smile “And I brought Hikaru-Bancho with me!” “So it would appear.” Said Master noted dryly, his expression hovering somewhere between annoyance and resignation, clearly having grown used to his apprentice's antics, as he turned away from the window he’d been peering out of “Thank you Flat, I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you get us some tea from the kitchens?” “Sure thing, Professor Velvet!” Flat chirped, dropping his stack of books on a chair like they were dime-store novels instead of priceless arcane texts before racing out the hall, eager to please the only person in the world who believed in him “Later, Hikaru-Bancho! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” “A very short list to be certain.” Waver sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation as the boy disappeared down the hall before turning to regard Sunset “I was unaware that you’d started your own faction, Hikaru-san, though if you’re willing enough to consider Flat among their number, I wouldn’t be averse to giving my support.” “Nice try Waver.” Sunset scoffed, sinking down into an armchair and pulling out a cigarette, turning down his offer of a match in favor of lighting it with a snap of her fingers “The kid mistook the pronunciation of my surname as ‘Bancho’ instead of ‘Bansho’ and somehow got it into his head that I had an army of bikers at my beck and call.” She shot him an amused look “Though I suppose I got off easy compared to you, Mr. Great Big Ben London Star.” “Indeed.” Waver grimaced, the Magus known as Lord El-Melloi II opting to instead take a long drag on his cigar before moving around his desk to take a seat in front of her, placing it aside in an ashtray “Can I see the marks?” “Knock yourself out.” Sunset offered, reaching down to remove her gloves, revealing the crimson markings on the back of her right hand for him to see, quirking a brow as she noticed Waver’s eyes widen imperceptibly despite his best efforts at maintaining a calm façade “Okay, now you’re scaring me.” “My apologies.” Waver offered, though truth be told he didn’t sound very apologetic whatsoever “It’s just been so long since I’ve last seen them that they brought back memories…both good and bad.” He sighed as he sat back in his chair “Tell me, Hikaru, how familiar are you with the Fuyuki Grail War?” Sunset stiffened, her eyes narrowing as a flash of pain erupted from her side, her free hand reaching down to rest over the scar from when she’d been impaled on by rebar ten years prior “Intimately.” The Fuyuki Holy Grail War was, in no uncertain terms, the biggest Cluster Fuck in the history of the Mages Association, a prime example of both the inherent stupidity of mankind and the paranoid nature of Magi, at least so far as Sunset, Waver, and the late Emiya Kiritsugu’s were concerned. To summarize, it all started because the Einzberns, a clan of prodigious Alchemists that specialized in Homunculi, lost the secrets of the Third True Magic because the Family Head at the time was either too stupid or too paranoid to leave instructions behind for his descendants in the event of his death. Refusing to accept the loss of their birthright, in the 1800's the Einzberns teamed up with the Tohsaka Clan in Fuyuki and Makiri Zolgen to reverse engineer the Grand Servant Ritual used by the Counter Force to summon Seven Heroic Spirits with the intention of Sacrificing them to literally force open a passage to Akasha to reclaim the lost Third Magic. Needless to say, the fact there had been Four Grail Wars to date, each ending more catastrophically than the last, should be all the explanation you needed to comprehend just how badly the Einzberns screwed up. Hell, according to Kiritsugu by the Third War they had long since forgotten their original purpose and were simply obsessed with ‘Winning’. Now Sunset would freely admit that she'd made mistakes. Hell, the only reason she was even here was arguably thanks to one of her greatest mistakes, but even the mare she once was could have held her head high as she derided the Einzberns for how catastrophically they'd screwed up. Seriously, how bad do you have to screw up that you not only forget your original goals entirely, but you manage to turn what should have been a cut-and-dry ritual sacrifice into a bloody free for all that, to date, had almost wiped an entire city off the map no less than four times? And that wasn't even factoring in the fact the Einzbern had, in their lust for victory, unwittingly corrupted their own ritual by summoning the literal embodiment of All The World's Evil, turning the once Nigh-Omnipotent Wish Granting Machine into a Malicious, Nigh-Omnipotent Monkey's Paw that could still grant wishes, but only in a way that screwed humanity the most. Needless to say, Sunset wasn't too chuffed to find out she'd been signed up for the sequel. “Judging by your reaction to them, I’m guessing these are Command Seals?” she mused, her eyes glancing to the red markings in the shape of her Cutie Mark that currently adorned the back of her hand with mixed feelings. On the one hand it was kind of nostalgic to see the symbol of her special talent after so long. On the other hand, a part of her couldn't help but feel sickened that it would be marred by what the Seals represented. “Indeed, and their appearance on your body marks you as a designated Master for the Fifth War.” Waver confirmed as he took a calming drag on his cigar “What troubles me is the timing. It’s barely been a decade since the last War, the Grail shouldn’t have amassed the Mana necessary for it to start selecting Masters just yet.” “Maybe it’s because nobody actually made a wish last time.” Sunset proposed, earning a quirked brow from Waver as he gestured for her to elaborate “Remember my report? Kiritsugu technically won the Fourth War but had Saber destroy the Grail because it had been ‘corrupted’. Maybe the Grail simply held onto the stored energy and used it to manifest early?” “Possible, but not likely.” Waver countered with a frown “If Emiya Kiritsugu was the Master of Saber as he claimed, then I doubt anything could have survived a direct hit from her Noble Phantasm, especially if the Grail had been corrupted as claimed in your report. I think it’s far more likely that his subsequent attempt to destroy the leylines inadvertently accelerated the process.” “You’d know best I suppose.” Sunset conceded, recalling how Waver had been a participant during the previous Grail War. Indeed, it was precisely because he’d survived that hell that Sunset had initially sought the man out during her initial visit to the Clock Tower, partially to get answers and partially to take out her frustrations on another survivor. However, when it became clear that Lord El-Melloi II had played no part in creating the hell-on-earth Kiritsugu had found her in, she’d quickly changed tracks and used his connections to have Kiritsugu’s report on the ritual published in an attempt to have it dismantled. Needless to say, their attempts had failed dismally, for while Waver had earned a reputation among the Clock Tower as one of the premier Magical Instructors, even earning the prestigious title of Lord El-Melloi II, it was a hollow title with next to no influence, as most of his predecessor’s assets had been lost with his death, a fact Waver was constantly reminded off by his ‘beloved younger sister’ and current heir of the defunct Archibald Clan, Reines Archisorte. It certainly didn’t help that the Founding Families, particularly the Einzberns, stoutly opposed any and all attempts to have outside parties interfere with the ritual, the Einzbern even going so far as to threaten to use their political clout with the association to crush the Archibald faction that Waver had spent so long trying to restore. Faced with such opposition, Waver had been forced to capitulate to their demands, though that didn’t mean he’d given up entirely. No, instead he’d opted for a more indirect approach, employing Sunset and various other 'Freelancers' to track down possible relics that could potentially be used to summon ‘High Class’ Servants before they could fall into the hands of less scrupulous Magi, many of whom Sunset was more than happy to take out of the picture permanently. And now here she was, ten years later and considerably wiser, with three Command Seals on the back of her hand in a mocking reminder of everything she had lost that day so long ago. It was almost as if the Grail were mocking her, which was highly likely considering what little Kiritsugu managed to tell her of his interaction with the spirit of the corrupted chalice. “So, what do we do?” She asked, snapping Waver out of his thoughts “Don’t look at me like that, we knew there’d be another Grail War eventually, the schedule’s just been moved up is all.” “True, though I’d hoped we’d have had a bit more time to build up our resources for the next one.” Waver admitted with a sigh, recalling the hell he’d endured during the Fourth Grail War due to his Servant’s exuberant personality “For one thing, aside from the Founding Families and yourself, we have no idea who the other three Masters could be.” He then promptly sighed before glaring at the door “How long do you intend to loiter outside, Flat Escardos?” “Ah! Sorry Professor!” Flat exclaimed, looking decidedly unapologetic as he stepped into the office with a tray of doubtlessly cold Earl Grey held in both hands “I know you don’t like it when I eavesdrop but I just couldn’t help myself!” “It’s precisely because of that you’ll never graduate beyond apprentice, you imbecile.” Waver remonstrated, shifting into ‘Lecture Mode’ as he turned to glare at his apprentice with a decidedly sour expression “Haven’t I told you countless times that eavesdropping on a Magus is paramount to slitting your own throat?” “But it’s the Holy Grail War Professor!” Flat exclaimed, his eyes shining with youthful exuberance as he waved his arms “A once in a lifetime event that only the chosen can participate in! I’d give anything to be chosen as a Master-!” “Would you shut up!” Waver snapped, silencing his apprentice with a well-placed flick to the forehead that sent the twenty-something year old sprawling “For fuck’s sake! How many times to I have to bloody tell you not to go around yelling at the top of your lungs, you cretin!” he took a breath to calm himself “For starters, where did you even hear about the Grail War?” It was a valid question, for neither Sunset or Waver had referred to the Grail War by it’s full title during their conversation, at least not at any point Flat could have heard them, and while the existence of the Grail Wars was hardly Top-Secret, it wasn’t something a mere apprentice like Flat could find out about it. Indeed, given his reputation and lack of common sense, Sunset wouldn't be at all surprised that the various departments, in a rare showing of uniformity brought on by self-preservation, had placed a Gag-Order on discussing the Grail War anywhere Flat might overhear it, under penalty of a Sealing Designation. “Oh, the other day some of the Professors were holding a council meeting in one of the basement lecture halls, right?” Flat explained with a grin, completely missing Wavers look of shock, as this was clearly the first time he’d heard anything of the sort “You know that famous puppet master, Mr. Rohngall? That was the first time I actually saw him in the flesh-!” “Why-The-Fuck-Were-You-At-That Meeting-?!” Waver demanded between clenched teeth as he gripped Flat’s face as if he hoped to crush it with his bare hands, his normally composed features stretched into a mask of fury, though whether this was due to his exclusion in said meeting or Flat's presence was anyone's guess. “I think the better question here is, why weren’t you invited to the meeting, Waver.” Sunset pointed out, earning a sharp look from the man as he released his flailing apprentice with a grunt “What were they talking about, Flat?” “Well apparently they managed to find two other Magi that had been selected as Masters.” Flat revealed, completely unphased by Waver’s attempt on his life, having more than likely grown used to it given his Mentor’s low tolerance for his shenanigans “One of them is Miss Bazette from the Enforcers, the other is Mr. Galliasta from the Alchemy department.” “Okay, Bazette I could understand, but how the hell did that asshole qualify as a Master?” Sunset demanded, recalling the vain Alchemist from one of the times she accompanied Waver on a job for Reines. Put bluntly, while the man was talented, he was far too arrogant for a Magus from a recently established lineage, especially when you stopped to consider the fact he was literally outshone in almost every single field he prided himself in. “A talented idiot is the most dangerous kind of idiot.” Waver opined whilst glaring pointedly at the naively grinning Flat “A more pressing concern is the Fraga. Setting aside her own considerable skills as an Enforcer, her lineage is one of the few who retain the ability to employ a Noble Phantasm in this Day and Age.” “So they’re like Grey.” Sunset mused, referring to Waver’s other apprentice, though considering how that term had become stigmatized due in no small part to Flat, it would perhaps be kinder to refer to her as his assistant “Where is she by the way?” “Reines took her out shopping for the day.” Waver confessed “Said something about it being a crime that she only has the one outfit, never mind the fact she has several outfits of the exact same make.” He sat back in his chair with a long-suffering sigh “Still, at least we’ve confirmed the identity of two of the remaining Masters. That leaves just one unaccounted for.” “Ooh! Me! Pick me!” Flat exclaimed, sitting up on the floor and raising his hand in the air like an over-eager foal volunteering to answer a question in class “I wanna participate-!” “Like hell.” Waver deadpanned, once again silencing his apprentice with a well-placed flick to the forehead that sent him sprawling on his back, smoke actually rising from the point of impact “I’d never permit that no matter how much you crawled and begged, so quit harassing me about this.” “I won’t be a bother, professor!” Flat insisted, his eyes shining with exuberance as he continued to try and plead his case “I mean, this is why you and Hikaru-Bancho have been gathering relics all this time right? So you could be ready to summon a Hero for the War?” “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah.” Sunset confessed, as it was hardly a national secret that she and Waver had been going around collecting relics with ties to Heroic Spirits. Hell, the only reason their detractors hadn’t cracked down on them before now was because there were countless of other relics coming in and out of the Association every day, one of the many advantages of having their headquarters situated inside the British Museum. “So you're saying if I had a portrait of Napoleon, I could summon Napoleon?!” Flat exclaimed, and Sunset was unnerved to see the blonde had actual stars in his eyes “An emperor would be the coolest thing ever!” “If I were the Heroic Spirit Napoleon, I’d rather have you face the firing squad than make a contract with you!” Waver snapped, only to reign in his temper with a sigh, taking a long drag on his cigar to steel his nerves before regarding his apprentice with a solemn look. “Tell me, Flat. Why do you even want the Holy Grail anyway?" he asked of his student "You’ve never struck me as the kind to seek out Akasha, and I know for a fact you aren’t so stupid as to believe that wishing on the Grail will finally allow you to Graduate. So why do you wish to participate?” “It’s because I wan’t to see it!” Flat gushed, earning a snort of amusement from Sunset even as Waver gaped at him in disbelief “I mean, it’s the Holy Grail! Hitler and Gobbles wanted it for the Third Reich! And Shi Huangdi and Nobunaga and Godzilla all looked for it too! If it really exists, I’ve just gotta see what it looks like!” “…His name was Goebbels, not Gobbles.” Waver corrected the teen calmly even as Sunset fought to keep from bursting out laughing at the look of irritation on the man's face “I don’t know about Nobunaga or Shi Huangdi, but historically and culturally speaking it’s unlikely they ever sought the Grail.” “You forgot about Godzilla.” Sunset quipped, waving off the murderous glare Waver sent her way in favor of regarding the blonde with a kind smile “He’s got a point though, Flat. Take it from someone who was caught up in the aftermath, the Grail Wars aren’t something anyone should have to take part in. Would you even have it in you to kill another person?” “Well, no…” Flat admitted, the troubled expression on his face highlighting precisely why Waver refused to let him graduate: The young man simply lacked the intrinsic nature of Magi to accept death as a constant in his life. To be a Magus was to Walk with Death. It was the first thing that Kiritsugu ever taught Sunset, and it was the tenet that every Magus lived by. It didn’t matter if it came naturally, at the hands of a rival or due to their own experiments backfiring, at the end of the day very few Magi lived to a ripe old age, and even less had the liberty of choosing where they died. “In that case, the matter is moot.” Waver insisted, waving a hand dismissively “Because even if you refuse to kill for the Grail, your Servant will have no such compunctions. Indeed, as the very nature of the ritual requires that the Servants kill one another, they are likely to kill you for trying to prevent them from achieving their wish.” “...This is a tricky problem, huh?” Flat sighed, gazing down at the floor solemnly “I really, really want to see the other Heroes...I mean, how cool would it be to befriend a living legend?” “Kind of bittersweet if you really think about it.” Sunset mused “I mean, at the end of the day they’ll disappear once the ritual is over, right? Kind of hard to befriend them knowing they’re just going to die anyway.” “Not as hard as you might think…” Waver countered, only to wave a hand dismissively at Sunset’s quirked brow “It’s nothing.” He assured her “More importantly, we need to move fast if we hope to ensure we secure a Servant strong enough to make it to the finals. I don’t suppose your Mentor managed to hold onto the catalyst he used to summon Saber?” “If he did, he never mentioned it.” Sunset admitted with a shrug, recalling how Kiritsugu would clam up whenever it came to discussing the events of the Fourth Grail War. The only things she’d managed to pry out of him were that he’d been the Master of Saber, and that he’d been acting as the Einzbern’s representative, though he refused to go into details as to why. “Unfortunate, but not unsurprising.” Waver confessed with a grimace as he rose from his seat and strode over to his desk to pick up a small ebony case from his drawer “More than likely the Einzbern held onto the relic, so there’s a high-probability that they’ll try to summon the same Saber-class Servant. In which case, as far as catalysts are concerned, this would be our best hope of cutting them off at the head.” Sunset quirked a brow, looking on with interest as Waver set the chest on the table. While it was possible to summon a Heroic Spirit without a catalyst, indeed, according to Kiritsugu doing so often ensured the Master was partnered with their most compatible Servant, using one not only increased the odds of drawing a specific Heroic Spirit, it also improved the chances of summoning them in the strongest possible class. “I don’t remember retrieving this piece.” She noted, gazing down at the contents of the ebony case, namely a chunk of wood that bore signs of being worked on and gave off an odd sense of heat, as if it had been recently plucked from a fireplace despite lacking any outwards signs of being burnt “What is it?” "A shard of The Round Table. The very table that served as the rallying point for the Greatest of knights to protect Britain.” Waver revealed with a hint of reverence, sending an annoyed glare at Flat’s impressed whistle only to smirk confidently at Sunset “I don’t know what relic the Einzbern used to summon Saber for the Fourth War, but with this as the catalyst the odds of us summoning a Saber Class should be almost certain even if we fail to summon the same Heroic Spirit, especially if we perform the summoning here, in Britain.” “That’s Professor Velvet for you!” Flat cheered, gazing at his mentor with star-struck adoration “Just the kind of thing you’d expect from the Great Big Ben London Star!” “Don’t call me that to my face!” Waver snapped, his confident expression replaced with irritation as he rounded on his disciple “And honestly, why did you have to pick such a ludicrous nickname!? Are you trying to piss me off you cretin?! “But Miss Reines always seems so happy whenever she says it.” Flat protested, prompting Waver to start strangling the air in an impotent rage, much to Sunset’s amusement “Well, don’t worry you worry Professor! I’ll think up the perfect new nickname for you! How does ‘Magical Miniskirt Professor’ sound?” “Fuck off and die!”