PROLOGUE
Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.
The contract formed from Master to Servant.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
The link between two that should not be.
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).
Repeat every five times.
Simply, shatter once filled.
――――I announce.
The heroes fight for their wish upon the truth, the Master fights for a selfish desire. This is what binds Magi and man alike to this prevailing war of the ages. The increments in years are haphazard, almost random. It depends on how and when the Holy Grail calls upon them. It depends on who and how it is answered. Prayers that are answered. Prayers that are enacted upon. This is the essence of the grail.
Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.
Lightning pulses out from the center of a darkened room. The crimson heat traces itself around magical circle.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
A tall man in bandages watches with indifference. A young girl with white hair continues to shout the incantation that will call upon the power - the miracle of the Holy Grail.
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.
The light echoes her wish with delight. The circle reaches up into the heavens with red.
Yet, thou serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos! Thou, bound in a cage of madness. I am he who commands those chains!
The light darkens to match the atmosphere of the room. Black fog runs rampant from the center of the red circle.
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！
The skull in the center of the circle, the catalyst, begins to break. It cracks into dust as a large lumbering figure strolls out from the center of the circle.
Strands of white hair cloud his vision. A man with scars stands at the ready without the curse of madness placed on him.
“Are you… my Master?” his voice is hoarse.
“Yes! Yes, I am!” the ‘Master’, the young girl by the name of Morgenstern, turns toward the man in bandages. “Did I do well? Did I?”
“Hah…” he speaks in a grizzly voice much like the Servant Berserker, “Serviceable.” he coughs, “Though the real training starts now. The Grail will wait for no one.”
“Ah,” the realization makes Morgenstern frown, “I guess you’re right. It’s another few weeks away, right?” a hand falls to her chin, “Though what are we going to do with Berserker until then?”
The tall man simply stands there. He doesn’t acknowledge the mummy nor his tiny Master. There are only a few things running through his mind now. How to win this war, what to wish for - the selfishness of a man long dead can not be quelled so easily. “Let’s go.” he says while grabbing onto his Master’s back.
“H-huh? H-hey, put me down, Berserker!”
Despite the incantation to put him as a ‘mad man’, he was able to speak like any sane individual. It was either the incompetence of the Master or the decision of the man himself. Regardless he walks up the steps from the cellar to begin this ‘training’.
____________________________________________
2 weeks later, Day 0 of the Holy Grail War
The chaos of the Grail War spins itself only two weeks later. The two teams find themselves in a mortal coil in only the beginning of the battle.
...
“Serge! Back away!” the Saber of ‘Red’ on the other team and her Master Serge Maverick. She is a powerful fighter who lacks in finesse. Her Master is much like her. He summoned her without a catalyst, so maybe this is one of the many reasons he ended up with her?
“Right.” the man with a well-built figure and black hair stood behind a pillar just a few meters away from his Servant. “Don’t let her win, Saber!”
A woman with long, white hair stands there with a red weapon at the ready. “Think it’ll be that easy?” their opponent, Lancer of ‘Black’, smiles in delight. “Then I guess I have to step up my game then, don’t I?”
Saber narrows her eyes. She dashes forward to swing down her brilliant white blade at Lancer.
“Hup!” mocks Lancer. The white sword meets the red, barbed spear’s body. “Not a bad strike. More force would help, though!” the spear twirls in the air, knocking away the point of the sword from the spear to the cement ground.
Something happens in that instant.
Time seems to freeze for everyone, but Saber.
She draws back immediately before a killing blow is struck. The speed, the accuracy of the movement is enough to amaze even Lancer. “Good, that’s more like it!” Lancer uses her mighty agility to close in the distance between herself and her worthy opponent. “Dodge this one!”
She does just that.
Her body weaves back to avoid the spear’s shaft. In response, the glowing sword traces an arc from the ground to Lancer’s stomach.
“Lancer!” a blonde teenager appears on the battlefield. He has an anxious look on his face, his body riddled with worry.
“Don’t worry too much, kid.” the lance shifts positions. Saber’s attack is redirected for the second time in a row. “You’ll ruin your pretty face~”
Three consecutive stab motions through the air.
Saber manages to dodge all of them three times, but is unable to get an attack in.
“Is this just going to be tug-of-war?” Lancer speaks up before her opponent can get a word in. Saber shakes her head.
“No, there will be a victor tonight.” she mumbles a prayer to her sword, “Lord, please, guide my blade.”
“Already saying your prayers?” Lancer shrugs, “Haven’t even done anything yet.”
After that, Saber raises her blade up once again to finish the fight. Lancer herself responds in kind.
Whose fate will you lead tonight?
[_] Serge Maverick, the man bathed in blood and crimson.
[_] Arthur Creed, the boy with a steadfast heart and strong soul.
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Originally Posted by Mcjon01
