Bazett Fraga McRemitz
Date - January 16, 2007 AD
Time - 16:47 AM
Location - Ireland, Near Courtown, Forest
The door to the cottage closed with a click, as Bazett let out a sigh of relief.
In all honesty, if she could have avoided coming here, she would have done so. Not because her relations with her family were bad, quite the opposite, in fact, but rather to avoid the inevitable misconception that she was leaving the Association and returning home. Her family had not approved her running away and joining the Clock Tower. The town had not changed one bit, ever since she first left. It was still as lonesome and… “quaint” for the lack of a better word, as she remembered. All the reasons that prompted her to flee from this place in the first place. At the time it had felt as if she would follow the path of all the dead gods that her family had worshiped over the ages. Lost to the wayside, not even remembered by the ones who were supposed to be their most devoted followers.
“Haa... The air in the British Isles is as just as crisp as I remember. Far better then the constant humidity and blazing heat of South East Asia.”
“I wouldn’t say that aloud if I were you. That term has a lot of bad history around these parts, you know?”
“Oh right, my apologies. I’ll try to keep that in mind in the future. Putting that aside for a second though… this is quite the setup you guys have over here.”
The cottage they had stepped into was occupied by all sorts of supernatural items. Thick tomes, written in what appeared to be in Old Gaelic, lined the walls along with a variety of other catalysts. Various focal crystals, a number of oak branches, mistletoe, runes inscribed in stones and countless more items lay on the shelves around them. Judging from the near pristine condition of everything in the room, it was most likely covered with a Boundary Field of some sort that prevented decay. And that was not even the most impressive part. In the middle of the cottage, a large stood a massive trunk of an ash tree, the tree itself seemingly growing into the cottage itself, fusing into the roof and causing the walls to be lined with countless branches. An emerald pattern of runes circled the ash tree, forming a perfect Magic Circle. With a calm swipe of her fingers, Bazett caused the torches inside the relatively shadowed room to immediately burst into flame.
The red haired enforcer gave a pleased smile at my words, as she moved through the room, checking the various reagents, while giving a mental explanation.
“The Fraga’s are an old family. We might not have influence, but if nothing else, we at least have history. This is one of the cottages we have set aside for magical work and rituals. The building itself was moulded from the tree using runes and praying circles handed down from the Age of Gods. The ash tree itself is quite ancient and has started to accumulate mystery of its own. In addition, it has a strong connection to Druidism, meaning that it will provide an environment where druidic and runic rituals are enhanced.”
“This specific tree is over 1300 years old. If this long distance summoning attempt of ours is to succeed, we need to greatly amplify the strength of our ritual, otherwise we will not be able to connect to the Grail.”
“I see. You are probably correct. The only ones who have summoned abroad so far are the Einzbern’s. And they have a direct link to the Lesser Grail. Heck, the Lesser Grail is the one who will summon in this war. Most likely they have an already inbuilt connection to the Grail.”
“Right. Which is why we need to use pure magical strength to overcome that limitation.”
That was one aspect at the very least. If they did manage to summon Cu, then the spearman in blue should, at least in theory, be vastly stronger then what he could recall from his hazy memories. If the war was anything like the one that he remembered, then additional strength would be needed. Against Gilgamesh and Berserker at the very least. That was if it was anything like the 5th he remembered. What little knowledge he had managed to gleam from Bazett about the 4th left him… concerned at the very least.
No, a stronger Servant would definitely not be amiss here.
“We have the circle and the catalyst. Now the incantation, I guess? Technically, I don’t think it is truly necessary. As long as we have the catalyst, a circle and the intent, we should be able to summon. Though, considering the distance and… troubles we could wind up in, its better to probably use the chant.”
“I know a few, but the Toshaka one is probably most applicable here. I am not sure if the others would even apply…but first things first. We need to make sure that there are no potential catalysts nearby. Could you place everything near the circle a bit of a ways off? The other side of the room is fine. We don’t want to pull a random heroic spirit, just because we forgot something that might be a catalyst near the circle.”
Like a certain dark haired tsundere magus. The worst thing that could happen would be if they would summon a completely unknown Heroic Spirit at random. It might have worked out for Rin with EMIYA, but for some reason, he doubted that there were many Heroic Spirits in Ireland that could match up to the Child of Light. Most of the reagents in the workshop were also fairly old, making it very likely that at least one or two were catalysts of some sort. His mind wondered to the earring nested in the Enforcers pocket. The earring was a strong catalyst, a runic earring that was worn and inscribed by the spearman himself, but if things came down to it, he would rather not risk things if possible.
“Done.”
“Right, then just follow my instructions.”
A drop of blood fell from the extended fist of the Irish Enforcer, activating the dormant magical circle almost instantly. The room was immediately filled with a glow of bluish-green energy, as the circle pulsed with magical energy. Bazett’s circuits were wide open, channeling magical energy into the magic circle, which in turn caused the ancient pattern to amplify and mold it. Her mouth opened, and almost as if in a trance, the words of an unfamiliar ritual spilled from her lips.
Ye first, O silver, O iron.
O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract.
Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg.
Let the descending winds be as a wall.
Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve.
The torrent of magical energy rushing through her circuits caused intense pulses of pain to flash through her body, before being squashed by an iron will. Her flesh was starting to forget its normal functionality and was starting to become merely a tool to connect the supernatural with the material. A circuit to bring about miracles, nothing more.
Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut.
Five perfections for each repetition.
And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead!
Set.
Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade.
If thou submitteth to the call of the Holy Grail, and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond.
The magical ritual solidified, morphing from something that was simply a chaotic and untameable mass of prana, into something which had an almost incomprehensible structure. The massive tree in the middle of the circle pulsed with magical energy of its own as the prana of the ritual rushed through it, letting out a soft, almost ephemeral glow of its own as the chant continued to echo throughout the small cottage.
I make my oath here.
I am that person who is become the virtue of all Heaven.
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.
Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words,
come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance-!
And with a final, intense crescendo, the magical energy reached its peak as the ritual was completed.