“What nonsense is this, Waver! This is level of incompetence is beyond disgraceful. Who was responsible for the maintenance of the Second Vault?”
Two figures paced through the elaborately decorated hallways at a rushed clip. While they were both members of the Association, their actual authority in these halls was as far from each other as the earth and the sky. One of them, an auburn-haired woman whose entire demeanor emitted an almost imperial authority, was the Vice-Director of the Clock Tower and the scion of the greatest magus lineage in the world - Bartholomei Lorelei. And he was… well, her secretary, an insignificant magus with only three generations to his name. A man whose most notable talent in this palace of supernatural mystery was his administrative skills.
The double doors in front of the two of them snapped open without anyone ever laying a hand on them, the century-old wards shattering in an instant by the intense amount of magical energy that they had suddenly been subjected to.
It had been quite some time since Waver had seen the “Queen” quite this irritated. Normally, not even the Vice-Director could casually walk into the deepest bowels that resided underneath the Clock Tower itself. There were certain checks and balances that needed to be followed. A precious few checks, but vital ones nevertheless. The “Bottom of the Bridge” was not a place one could tread on a casual whim, after all. Countless tragedies rested amongst these walls, any one of which could potentially turn their world upside down.
In fact, one such object was already doing just that.
“This specific vault is under the jurisdiction of the Third Chair, milady,”
A look of momentary disdain flashed on the face of the auburn-haired magi.
“Myencallion? That man hasn’t been in the Clock Tower for more than a decade, ever since the last meeting of the Observatory. No doubt that the lack of direction has allowed incompetence to flourish in the Third Tower, but to think that things have degraded to this point…”
“I want a comprehensive list of all the magi of the Third Tower, along with their family lineages on my desk by tomorrow morning, Waver.”
Those words did not bode well for the men and women of the Third Tower. The Three Towers were the keepers and prison guards of the Bottom of the Bride, with each tower having their jurisdiction over a category of Sealing Designation subjects. The Third Tower, for its part, was responsible for the research and safekeeping of objects that had been placed under a Sealing Designation, an authority that had naturally grown out of their famed leader's unique spiritual attribute. While actually admonishing Alexis Myencallion would be difficult, considering the current distribution of political influence in the Clock Tower, it was unlikely that the lower-ranking members of the Third Tower would be subject to such convenient political safeguarding.
After another set of large double doors, the pair entered a tunnel that led to their final destination.A domed room of truly incredible proportions, there was really only one accurate adjective to describe the Second Vault - massive. Largest out of the four vaults under the authority of the Third Tower, the Second Vault was supposedly originally built for the safekeeping of a specific magical artifact from the Age of Gods that had the capacity to expand ad infinitum, While the artifact was primarily sealed in what was called a “paradox box”, the room that was built around it was built to offset the small chance that primary sealing mechanism would fail. The secondary enchantments placed in the room were rather simple conceptually and mainly allowed the interior of the room to simply expand according to whatever had been placed inside it. Over time, this meant that the room also became the home for Sealing Designated items that were simply too big for other Vaults of the Clock Tower.
Waver’s eyes fell on the item that had brought the two of them here.
Item 234 - The Fuyuki Greater Grail
The Grail was a massive stone sphere positioned in the middle of the room, tilted and off center, but by far the largest object in the Vault. Cracks of gold seemed to run across its spherical surface, pulsing periodically with incredible intensity. Waver had once read that there were magi whose circuits possessed such incredible efficiency that merely activating them produced an audible sound. He had never seen it personally, but… blasts of unnaturally howling wind rushed throughout the room, accompanying the brief flashes of light. All of that was secondary, however. Secondary to what the artifact felt like, even to his second-rate magical senses.
Looking at the sphere was as if looking at a pulsing star.
The quantity of prana in the Grail was unlike anything he had ever laid his eyes on. Never mind a singular magus, the quantity of sheer magical energy in this artifact was beyond what the entire Clock Tower…. no, the entire Association could produce in a decade. Was this even something that could be replicated by every magecraft user on the planet working in unison? Nevermind London, if that amount of magical energy went out of control, the entire British Isles, if not a large part of continental Europe, could be erased from the face of the earth.
For a moment, the Vice-Director next to him grasped her head and let out a brief hiss of pain, before regaining her composure.
A female magus stumbled into their sight, dressed in the grey-white robes of the Third Tower. Her eyes were haggard and hollow, a clear sign of extreme prana exhaustion. It was at such an extreme point, even casting a minor cantrip would probably result in her death. Giving a brief bow to Lorelei, the exhausted girl started to give an overview of the situation they had found themselves in.
“It..it just activated from nowhere, milady. From our observations, it's trying to activate some type of ritual, a Spiritual Evocation, judging by the spiritual signature it’s emitting. We have been trying to restrain it, but it seems that prana stored within it has somehow reached critical mass.”
Another pulse of magical energy sent shockwaves throughout the Vault, making the magus sway uncertainly on her feet as she tried to buffet herself against the sudden billowing winds.
“Aren’t the Boundary Fields supposed to completely cut the Vaults off from mana and the local leylines just for this very reason?”
“They are. ...And the wards are still completely functional. There is no way that prana accumulation of this level could be carried out while the wards ar….”
“Dimwit. Are you trying to tell me that this…” Lorelei waved at the massive light-emitting sphere. “... thing is a mirage? An illusion perhaps?”
“Enough. Tell the others of the Third Tower to release your hold on the wards, I’ll reinforce them myself.”
The tired woman immediately tried to immediately raise a complaint to this idea. Not the greatest of choices, if Waver was completely honest. He had learned early in his new career that to overturn the will of the Queen was like trying to debate with an incoming lightning bolt. Ultimately futile. Once the Vice-Director had decided upon something, she carried always carried it out with absolute certainty. Whether that was due to her extreme confidence in her own capacity or sheer arrogance, he couldn’t say. Perhaps the difference between the two was simply how one chose to interpret it.
“But Vice-Director, if we release the wards, even for a moment, the actualization of the ritual will immediately begin! This is still an unknown artifact that we are talking about! Who knows what it can bring upon the world, even in that single second!”
The Barthomeloi heirs voice was as cold as arctic ice.
“Silence. I did not ask for your advice, girl. It is clear that if this is all left to you and your incompetent lot, all you will manage to do is die while trying to restrain it with your pitiful magical capability.
"And the end result will be the same.”
“Now go and tell this to your colleagues or I will take over the ownership of the wards by force and you will all have your circuits burned out by the backlash,”
“Am I understood?”
“Yes, milady.”
Waver did not bother to speak up as his eyes fell on the rapidly departing figure of the Third Tower magus. If his superior wished for his input, she would tell him. At this point, it was unlikely that the Vice-Director had any intention of this, considering the magnitude of the task that lay ahead of her. Even she, who was called the “Supreme Magus of the Modern Era” would have a hard time of restraining something like this on her own. It wasn’t impossible of course, He of all people had ample experience in Lorelei’s ability to carry out feats that were simply mind-boggling for normal magi, but…
For a moment, Waver could not distinguish anything besides overwhelming light and the sea of magical energy rushing past him. There was no adequate way to describe the feeling and he would probably never possess the eloquence to do so. And then it was gone. Vanished in a blink of an eye, disappearing into nowhere. As he helped the Vice-Director back on her feet, the massive sphere that had been the cause of all of this had returned back into an inert state, seemingly drained of all of the intense magical energy it had displayed seconds before.
Let's just say Waver would have felt a tad more confident if the Canticle Brigade was here as well.
A moment later, a brief sharp sound echoed throughout the domed room, almost reminiscent of a thread being snapped.
“I.. I didn’t even have time to….” The normally imperious Lorelei was clearly shaken by what had happened and took a second to gather herself. “We need to assess the effects of this artifact, whatever it was. At the very least, parts of whatever it was trying to do were actualized and I want to know what it was.”
It now looked exactly like his first impression when he entered. A giant rock.
With those words, the Senior Administrator of the Directorate left the Second Vault of the Kalion Observatory, leaving behind a furious Vice-Director who immediately started her interrogation of those hapless members of the Third Tower who had still been, unfortunately for them, not completely drained of their magical energy.
“Waver! I want you to dig up everything you can find on this artifact. Every record, no matter how obscure. The Kalion libraries, the family registers, everything you can get your hands on.
"I don’t care if you even have to squeeze blood out of that old codger in the Parchment Archives, I want to know what is going on!”
“Understood, milady. I will get right on it.”
It would take exactly three hours and forty-five minutes for Waver Velvet to finally notice the crimson markings that had been etched at the back of his forehand by the Grail.
It would take him twice as long before he fully understood the situation they were in.
Aila Einzbern
15th of December, 2004
Morning (Phase 1-1)
Lapis, Aila’s butler, fidgeted uncertainly as she stood in front of the changing room, dressed in a rather elaborate, white, summer dress. Despite what one might think, while the Einzberns placed great emphasis proper dress code for their produced homunculi, their selected garments to be rather strongly rooted in their familial history. Which, while functional back in their castle in Germany, weren’t really the types of clothes one would wear while interacting with modern society. Which is why you had come out here in the first place, To get some clothes that weren’t some sort of bizarre cross between a nun’s habit and maid outfit.
“Mi...Mistress Irisviel, surely this is enough, right?”
“Nonsense, Lapis!”
Irisviel’s eyes lit up with a joyful gleam.
“I just saw this nice suit with emblazoned lapels which I think would fit you just perfectly!”
Or well, that was the original intention. All in all, that aim had long been forgotten, as Irisviel’s had lasted approximately fifteen minutes before commandeering your unfortunate servant as an impromptu dress-up doll. Perhaps it would have been better to not take the older homunculi up on her offer. Though if you were completely honest, some of the clothes that Lapis had tried on were quite nice,
“No, please, mil…!”Completely ignoring the embarrassed girl's objections, the long-haired homunculus dragged the struggling butler back into the depths of the changing room, with the azure curtain snapping shut a short second later second later.
A dismissive snort echoed out behind Aila.
Giving a passing glance over your shoulder, you noticed your other servant, Ushabti, sitting on one of the seats near the entrance. A thick broadsheet, the Financial Times from the looks of it, lying open in his seated lap. The daily crossword, no doubt. It wasn’t really a surprise that the older homunculi had already finished with his selection of clothing. Considering his personality, he probably picked the first one that caught his eye and that was that. In all honesty, the suit the man had chosen was rather plain all things considered, but… Well, trying to offer any recommendations to the obstinate man would no doubt be casually dismissed.
You could hear the man muttering to himself.
“Hmm... an opera by Bellini.... five across.”
The curtains opened once more, this time revealing Lapis dressed in a dark vested butler’s suit. While her demeanor was still slightly fidgety, no doubt due to Iri’s natural grabbiness, it would seem that Lapis definitely had a preference for this type of less revealing clothing. If you are completely honest, it was due to her unique circumstances that she even cared for something like this.
Superfluous emotion was an error, not a feature, after all.
Irisviel’s head popped out from behind your fidgeting servants back, her face set in an exuberant smile.
“What do you think, Aine? I think it’s rather sharp-looking! I would prefer a dress, but… “
Akechi Tohsaka & Mori Shiori
15th of December, 2004
Morning (Phase 1-1)
"Well then. This calls for a celebration, I suppose.”
The middle-aged Tohsaka patriarch walked over to the mahogany drinks cabinet, retrieving three glasses and bottle of Dom Perignon. A vintage from 94, from the looks of it. A moment later, the dark-haired man popped off the cork of the champagne bottle, his every motion laden with the type of aristocratic air that was characteristic of Tokiomi. A certain sense of satisfaction was clearly visible on his face as he poured out the champagne into three glasses and passed two of them on to the two girls in the study.
This turn of events had clearly pleased the patriarch in burgundy.
“To think that all my daughters were considered worthy enough to be chosen by the Grail. As a father, I could ask for nothing more. This is truly a proud moment for the Tohsaka family.”
The man took a sip from his glass, a subtle, satisfied smile playing on his lips.
“Not only that but to have another so closely intertwined with us be granted the position of a Master…. It bodes well for us. Both for this war and for the war yet to come.” Tokiomi’s face clouded for a second. “Perhaps some of the preparations I had to carry out weren’t even truly necessary…”
Whatever those “preparations” were, you did not know, but one thing was certain. Despite his gregarious nature, the Tohsaka patriarch possessed a certain type of detached ruthlessness that was almost exemplary. The quintessential magi outlook that placed true importance on only two things. Reaching the root and the prosperity of the Tohsaka family as magi. Everything else, while important, was secondary to these two goals.
Gendo Matou
No doubt that any preparations that Tohsaka Tokiomi had carried out were done exactly from that perspective. From that of a true magus.
“But in any case, it would be negligent of me to chatter on over subjects that might not even be relevant for the two of you.”
Tokiomi gave both her daughter and his student a well-meaning smile.
“This is probably a needless question, considering that the two of you have already been chosen but…”
”Are the two of you ready for the obligation you are about to carry?”
15th of December, 2004
Morning (Phase 1-1)
Teeming masses of magi were walking through the dimly-lit alleyways of Sutton Lane. There were dingy stalls everywhere, trying to peddle some type of magical trinket or another. Buying magical items from such stalls was always somewhat of a gamble. They were all magical items of some sort or another, of course. The problem was that half the stalls were filled with con-men who tried to peddle you an initiates first attempt at an Azoth blade by claiming it belonged to Paracelsus himself. Because actually assessing the magical capabilities of items without activating them was difficult, to say the least, it was always tough to know whether or not you had been conned without actually trying the objects out in your workshop. But the real risk was not the con-men.
The buzz surrounded you was almost deafening.
Your eyes fell on a small stall filled with reagents obtained from various magical beasts. Most of it was relatively mundane if you were completely honest. Crap like bottled eyes of a kappa, werewolf teeth, or milk from a succubus. Probably from the lowest rung members of those phantasmal species as well. Or produced in one of those rumored reagent factories of the Fifth Faculty. Either way, most of it really wasn’t to your interests.
It was when what you bought was exactly the tall tales you were sold on.
Almost unbidden, the young Matou's mind returned to the meeting with his family head that had taken place only scant hours earlier. Seeing your Command Seals, Kariya’s instructions had been short and to the point.
Gendo’s eyes fell on a desiccated blood worm, floating in a jar of embalming fluid.
“I see. Then do as you feel is best. I shall contact you when the War truly begins.”Kariya Matou always felt off to you. A man who had been brought up by the old methods should never be capable of that kind of… passiveness, by the lack of a better word. You could never truly decide whether his behavior was really reflective of the individual within, or merely an elaborate facade of some sort. A mask to hide the true nature of the man within. Even now you weren’t truly sure if the man even had any plans to take part in the Holy Grail War or not. Or maybe Kariya would sit the War out and the old fart would actually take to the field himself?
Alexandra Chimeragenos, Michael Blackmore, Kanzaki Erika
That would be interesting to see, at the very least. Terrifying, but interesting.
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the voice of the stallkeeper.
“Interested in anything? Specific reagents? Grimoires? Information?”
15th of December, 2004
Morning (Phase 1-1)
Four people stood silently in the in the large lecture theatre.
While all of the departments possessed lecture halls in the large underground complex that lied beneath the British Museum, their usage depended strongly on the faculty in question. Some, like the lecture halls for the I and II Faculty, were almost in permanent use, while some, like the Tamerlane Hall of the X Faculty, hadn’t been used for over a decade. The Saggitarius Hall clearly fell into the latter category, being the property of the Celestial Body department, which was mostly centered around the Royal Observatory. Very few courses in the VIII Faculty managed to pull in enough students to actually justify the usage of such a large lecture hall, as the overall enrollment numbers for the sub-departments that existed under the Eighth were at historic lows. Even so, he probably would have never had the authority to book such a lecture hall if not for...
Wavers eyes fell scraggy-haired man seated casually on one of the engraved wooden benches.
Marisbury Animusphere.
The head of the Eight Faculty and the head of the 800-year Animusphere family. No doubt if he had asked the Vice-Director for her opinion of the man, it would have been something along the lines of a “lazy, talentless slob”. It was often said that if not for the head of the X Faculty, he could be considered to be the worst Department Head to ever hold the position in the last five decades. As the Jigmarie head was in the running, however, there was no competition whatsoever. Though the man was talented, no doubt, he seemed to be more interested in doting on his young daughter and making a general nuisance of himself to the administrators of the VIII department. Which made his current actions even more baffling, from Wavers point of view. Barely had he managed to piece together the purpose of the ritual surrounding the Holy Grail War when he was contacted by the faculty head with an invitation to “hold a private briefing in Saggitarius Hall ” for a “group of selected individuals”. Waver could, of course, read between the lines, but…
That didn’t make the entire thing less fishy, from his point of view.
If his hunch was correct, the total number of people would be seven, but considering that he didn’t actually know the identities of all the people that were attending… Either way, Waver’s attention fell to the two remaining women in the room. Both were… putting him on edge, although for completely different reasons. Luviagelita Edelfelt was dressed in her typical azure dress, ever the picture-perfect image of a magus noblewoman. Based on his own interactions with the head of the Edelfelt family during his brief tenure as an assistant lecturer, the woman boasted incredible talent in both practical magecraft and theory and an agreeable personality… most of the time. Perhaps it was something in the Edelfelt family line, who had once been called the “hyenas of the battlefield”, but the blonde girl possessed a temper that had a tendency to flare up in certain situations. And if the Tohsaka girls were also involved…
Waver had to suppress a shiver running down his back.
Noticing his scrutiny, the curly-haired blond gave Waver brief smile and slightly lowered her head in respect. A gesture that Waver immediately responded to, albeit with a certain sense of lack of comfort that clearly expressed his inexperience with these types of gestures.
And then there was Bazett Fraga McRemitz.
If the Edelfelt family head was the very image of aristocratic air, then the red-haired Enforcer was the very picture of utmost professionalism. Dressed in an impeccable suit, she was completely devoid of the typical pomp and fluff associated with longstanding magi lineages. While Waver had only met her briefly face-to-face once while walking around the Main campus, the fact that she was a Sealing Designation Enforcer already spoke leagues of her capabilities. Setting aside her actual capacity for large-scale magecraft or the number of her Magic Circuits, if his hunch on why they were here was correct then she might have been the individual most in her actual element. The Enforcers spent their entire lives not just hunting for individuals under Sealing Designation, but rogue magi in general.
Though if he was completely honest, the atmosphere that had surrounded the red-head during their first meeting was quite different from the calm and collected professionalism that was excluding from Bazett now.
And it was into this silent and contemplative lecture hall that three other individuals arrived, beckoned there by an elegant invitation from Marisbury Animusphere.Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
15th of December, 2004
Morning (Phase 1-1)
The body in front of him hit the ground with an almost sickening squelch.
Crimson dropped in large droplets from Arwyn’s hands.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The man in front of your eyes was, without any doubt, dead.
An unassuming man with cropped dark hair, with his throat sliced wide open. The butter knife that had been used to carry out the deed hung limply in your hand and rivulets of red ran down its edge. Peculiar. Now that you think about it, the man was almost painfully inoffensive in his appearance. A plain, forgettable face, matched with with unassuming clothing and build. You could already imagine him working in some kind of bank as teller or in middle management somewhere.Strange… if he was so unassuming then wha…
“...God?”
Mocking laughter echoed in Arwyn’s ears.
When Arwyn came back to his senses, the butterknife was buried blade-deep into the dead man’s chest.
Blood still continued to fall from the tip of his fingers.
For some reason Arwyn felt detached. None of the emotional shock one would associate with murdering another living being with their own hands. It was… it was almost as if someone had pulled the plug on all of his emotions. The logical part of his brain recognized it as some form of shock, but… In a gesture that was purely due to ingrained muscle memory, Arwyn dispassionately raised his hand to wipe off the blood on it.
Only to discover that the blood that falling from his hands was not that of his victims.
It was his.
Crimson markings had been etched deep into Arwyn’s skin, burning with an eldritch light. Common sense would have suggested that the markings were wounds gotten during a struggle, but… There was no way to use common sense to explain something like this. The pattern was too orderly, the light too supernatural in nature for that to be the case. A sword, surrounded by some kind of aura? No. It was too abstract to tell for certain.His emotions started to drain back into his body.
A mixture of dread and joy, building with every second.
Was this the justice you had been looking for all along? A judgement from God?
Arwyn’s hesitant eyes turned away from his hand and back towards the dead man in front of him. A part of him expected the man to leap right back into life. Or perhaps incarnate into a being surrounded by an aura of light and fire - a Messenger of God. However, no such thing happened and the corpse in front of his eyes remained just as it was, a corpse. Scanning the mans surroundings for clues, Arwyns eyes fell on a heavy code-locked suitcase laying a mere feet from the body.
There was no need to enter anything. The suitcase popped open with just the code that was already set on the golden wheels.
The first thing that caught Arwyn’s eyes was the white letter placed on top of everything else.
A single line of words was all that was visible.
“If you truly desire the answer to the question that burns within your soul, then obtain the Holy Grail.”
This was how Arwyn Cadfael Penrith, a man seeking judgement, first heard about the Fifth Holy Grail War.
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