Hospital food sucks.
I’ve been in and out of the hospitals in London for over the last year. My studies have suffered, but my magic has been spotty at best for nine months, so I don’t really care. I’m just glad they never found the bodies or the letters. Emiya doesn’t need anyone kicking down his door.
I stare out the window at the night sky, not really seeing it. Truth be told, my life has been something of a waste. I followed in my father’s footsteps, but that’s only made me the perfect idiot. If I could do it all again, I’d tell him to cram magic so far up his ass you'd see the kaleidoscope shining out his ears. Fuck him, and fuck Zelretch. Magic is pointless, and I hate the inhumanity of it all.
There’s a wet heat on my face. The old me would've blamed the ceiling being leaky or some other crap, but I don’t care enough to deny my tears, and there's no one here to see me anyway. Magic only ever gave me one good thing and, selfish as it is, I would trade all the world and my soul to have it back. To have him back.
Archer. That snarky, rude, overconfident, overprotective, cynical bastard. But, he was my bastard, and before I realised it, he was gone. Then it was over, and I was quickly thrust from my happiness into this lonely hell. I’m not sure when Ilyasviel died, exactly, but the letter had the funeral as a Tuesday. I couldn’t go. Sakura died, a year later. The letter telling me of Sakura's death came about three years after she was gone and buried. That was a month ago.
I snapped.
Luviagelita Edelfelt, a person who I honestly admire.
Make that "admired". I admired her. She’s gone now, thanks to my mistake. If she were here, she'd probably tell me there’s another way- hell she’d make another way. She'd disguise me as one of her servants or something. God I miss her, she really was my best friend. But she was a friend who would have tried within the system; I couldn’t have taken that risk even if I had been sane.
It’s taken the last two weeks of sleepless nights and backfires, but I’ve finally figured out the only other good thing magic will give me. I honestly thought I would hesitate- well, admittedly, it’s not like I have much to lose if I fail now. This must've been the same feeling Emiya had, this strange confidence that you find when you have nothing left.
No, not even Emiya was ever this stupid.
I open the large window. The cool air breezes in, and the city of London becomes clear to me. It’s a nice last memory, as these things go. It’s a beautiful place, but I’m not sure I ever liked the city. Backing away from the view, I go back to my training. I modulate my breathing, find my center. The spell requires the utmost concentration. Luckily, those idiots gave me a private room.
The spell takes thirty minutes, and thirty four of the thirty five jewels I had left, but it’ll be worth it to stop those bastards. They force the door open. I heard them coming long ago. My reflexes save the day, and the ruby I threw explodes in the doorway, fire rushing down both ends of the hallway, giving me precious seconds to leap out the window.
I wasn’t in a hospital gown then, but he still would have caught me if I had been.
There’s no one to catch me now- not even the softest memories could break my fall. The spell triggers. As usual, with anything I find important it’s too late. Two and a half seconds late, to be exact, but still late. The sound is that of an explosion; a big one, using my body as a silencer.
The pain is gone instantly. I don’t even feel my body hit the ground. The crest dies out, just as I planned, but I don’t die right then. As the life fades from me, he appears. He isn’t himself; his question is blunt, emotionless.
I will give you what you desire. In return, you will serve.
The world stands before me in his form. If I could move, I’d slug it. Still, what do I have to lose? Given what I learned upon coming to the clock tower, the idea of becoming a Counter Guardian seems like a good thing. I’m already willing to kill to change things, to see him.
“Yes.” The word sounds more like a gurgle. I taste blood. “Summoned as a Servant. Want to save them."
I don't bother to explain. Couldn't, even if I wanted to. The thing standing there is a part of me anyway; a part of us all. It knows.
He nods, and I lose my sight. I’ll wait for my chance for a do-over. I suppose I won't be allowed to yell at Archer when I see him again, though.
My curiosity gets the better of me. I wonder which Servant I'll be. The answer makes me laugh.
I hope I'll get Saber.
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