Unknown Location
Day 03
(BGM)
Servant Assassin can only be perceived when she wishes to. On the other hand, Servant Caster’s workshop has the means to notice intrusion by spirits, so approaching in intangible form would not elude detection.
Of course, none of this comes to matter when the Servant storms into the cavernous chamber spouting curses in Spanish.
“
Maldita esa perra y la perra que la parió!”
“Language, sweetheart,” murmurs the owner of the workshop, not looking up from the book in her hands. Assassin drops unceremoniously on the chamber’s sole unkempt bed, her face buried in the plain white pillow. Then, she releases a long, soulful moan, and Caster perceives more than exhaustion in the sound, which draws her to take a proper look at the rude visitor.
“Oh,” she utters with her low-pitched voice. “Oh, sweet girl, what have you done to yourself.”
Caster is kneeling by the bed a moment later, big hands reaching for Assassin, carefully taking the hooded girl’s right hand between them. There was no concern for the arm’s inhuman appearance, only for the fact it is badly burnt.
Assassin’s mumbles something Caster somehow figures out.
“Of course it matters! You are so beautiful, why would you harm yourself like—oh.”
Caster pauses as she comes to understand.
“That young man in your heart; he tried to break an ice block.”
A second moan somehow turns into a snort. Assassin turns her head, showing Caster her round, lovely face.
“You make it sound like I’m some maiden in love.”
“Oh.” A hand is brought to cover a smile already veiled. “My apologies.”
Assassin does not return the smile, which makes Caster’s own disappear.
“I take it the reckless of your old acquaintance is not the cause of your distress.”
Assassin’s tired eyes look up and down Caster’s anatomy.
“This bed…”
“Hmm?”
“…it’s got a real manly scent.”
“Oh, now you’re just being rude,” replied the older-looking blonde with a huff.
The sputtering sound of torch flame illuminates this chamber the size of a basketball court. It looks like a risky choice, for most of the irregular, natural stone walls are hidden behind bookcases and shelves, all of them stuffed to burst with tomes and scrolls. A single bed and a featureless desk, also covered in paper and parchment, complete the room’s furnishings. It is called a Servant’s workshop, but it looks like nothing else but the refuge of a book-loving hermit.
Assassin’s rudeness aside, a moment later we find Caster seated on the bed, her thighs replacing the manly-scented pillow. Big thumbs gently rub Assassin’s closed eyelids, as the latter voices her distress.
“That bitch approached Javier.”
“Hmm. So, what happened?”
“The hell I know! You think I’d try to sneak on that woman!?”
“But she did not hurt him, I take it.”
“That’s not the problem here!” Assassin explodes, and Caster has to pull her hands away before she pokes the other’s eyes.
“You know who she is! By now she must have Javier wrapped around her little perfect finger! Fuck!”
Anger is quickly swept away, her eyes now carrying the luster of despair.
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she says, her voice nigh a whisper. “I have nothing left.”
“Now, that is decidedly not true.” Caster’s hands moved to the other Servant’s shoulders. “if anything, out of all of us in this underground hovel, you are the only one with a future to look forward to.”
“Don’t joke with me, Caster. If that Maria doesn’t kill me, it will be one of the Nazis. Hell, maybe even—”
The rest of the sentence is halted in her throat, which brings an ugly grimace to her features. Caster looks down at her with a warning gesture.
“—even, the
Maid.”
“I seriously doubt the latter. Do not pretend to understand—um, the Lady Maid’s intentions.”
“Do you?”
Caster shook her head, visibly looking a little despondent.
“I am not bold enough to try to understand the fathomless. However, you do know you can trust me, right?”
Assassin pouted at being placed on the spot like that, but eventually nodded.
“Then believe my words. You need not fear me, or the Maid. The only threat to you in this Singularity is the Fourth Reich.”
Caster paused for a moment, and it did not escape Assassin’s awareness.
“What is it.”
“Ah, no, no; you have good wits, so you should not have to worry about it…”
Assassin’s persistent stare brought a wince to Caster’s veiled face.
“Something’s gonna happen tomorrow, huh.”
“It would already be today.”
“Fuck. Like I don’t have enough to worry about. Even if I believe you, and the Maid won’t kill me, she still got her claws on Javier.”
Her hands suddenly and violently smack the bed.
“Fuck! What is she up to!? I can only think she’s trying to get to Maria—”
“You are probably overthinking…”
Assassin suddenly gasps and jumps off Caster’s lap, turning until she is properly facing her.
“Shit, I forgot! Caster, be a cool guy and do me a favor.”
Caster’s eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“How many times do I have to say it? While I am wearing these clothes—”
“You’re a woman, right, whatever. Be a cool gal, then. I need a
geas.”
Caster’s annoyance turned into exasperation.
“What could you possibly want
another geas for—oh.”
A snort. At last, a small smile takes shape on Assassin’s face.
“You do say that a lot, Caster.”
The larger Servant leans conspiratorially towards Assassin.
“You figured out Saver’s identity.”
Assassin shakes her head.
“Not really, but I noticed something ‘bout her. Something promising.”
There is, indeed, a new, hopeful gleam in Assassin’s eyes.
“Caster, you’re the expert, so I thought you could figure it out for me. And then we need a
geas so that nobody can get that knowledge out of our minds.”
Caster stares at the suddenly spirited girl for a few seconds, clearly pondering her own response. Her own smile is small, unseen behind the veil covering the bottom half of her face. Her eyes are warm, but she is just trying to be compassionate. She cannot blame and would never look down on Assassin for the limited scope of her thoughts.
“My sweet girl, do you not realize it?”
Caster shrugs.
“Whatever it is you figured out,
she already knows.”
Promptly, a soft yet powerful voice echoed within the cavern.
“Listen to her words, cursed child. There is wisdom in them.”
(BGM)
Their reactions could not be more different. While Caster straightened herself, an impish smile behind her veil, Assassin shuddered on her spot atop the bed, hunching her shoulders and making herself as small as possible.
Points of gold like countless fireflies gather in the center of the chamber, coalescing into a lithe female shape. Wisps of golden light are flicked off along with the daring sway of her long hair.
Her eyes easily find Caster, who has already planted her forehead on the bed in prostration, and Assassin, who avoids her deep red eyes while intensely wondering how long has the Maid been listening in on them in spirit form. Wasn’t the workshop supposed to have defenses against—
Ah, right. Of course, nothing Caster can pull off would stop
this woman.
The Maid blinks. Then she stares at Assassin for an eternal three seconds, her expression unchanging while the Servant of Assassination trembled in fear for her life or worse. Then, the Maid blinks again.
“I shall prepare tea,” she finally says, taking off towards the kitchenette at the back of the cavern. Assassin has no idea how it works, how it is supplied, or how Caster even convinced the Sovereign to “waste resources on unnecessary luxuries” and get it installed. She suspects the Sovereign does not even know of its existence.
“Lady—” Caster almost chokes on the word held in her throat. “My Lady! Please allow me—!”
“I shall now use your words, Caster: ‘as long as I wear these clothes, I am a Maid’.”
The words allow no further argument, and the other two Servants quietly watch the maid’s exposed back while she is at work. It is the Maid herself who unusually speaks first.
“Yes, it is as you believe. I know all about your actions yesterday.”
Assassin expects more, but it does not come. The Maid speaks only what she deems necessary, regardless of the opinions of those listening.
“Aren’t…you gonna do anything about it? I mean, I’m…”
She stops, feeling like something will change the moment she gives voice to her thoughts.
“You are aware you are acting against the interests of the Fourth Reich, and fear for your life.”
Assassin is too nervous to roll her eyes at the Maid stating the obvious.
“I have no intention to inform them of your actions unrelated to your role as a Servant of the Black Sun. Your life is in your own hands, Assassin.”
The words are not relieving in the slightest.
“Why?” Assassin just has to ask. “Aren’t you—!?”
She cannot speak any more.
The geas already binding her prevents her from doing so. She has to rephrase her words if she wants them to come out.
“Aren’t you working with the Fourth Reich?”
“Yes.”
“Then what the fuck’s your deal!?” Assassin shouts at the Maid’s back as she jumps off the bed, the sudden motion flicking her hood over her head, revealing pale blonde hair tied in long twintails disappearing into the filthy cloak. Caster fidgets in unease while still on the bed.
“Guiding humanity to a brighter future. That is my ‘deal’, as you call it.”
The next words to come from the Maid are “tea is ready”, announcing the beginning of a rather awkward tea party.
(BGM)
Caster offers the Maid the only seat in the workshop, but the latter refuses and thus shares the bed with Assassin. While the Maid is the perfect picture of elegance, seated with a straight back on the edge of the bed, Assassin pushes herself back until her back rests on the rock wall.
“You seem to be in a good mood tonight, Lady Maid,” says Caster in an attempt to break the tension in the room.
“Huh? She is? She has the same smug bitch smile as usual—wait, I just noticed; we’re speaking Spanish?”
“You do not speak Akkadian,” explains the Maid after a blink. “And yes, I would be lying if I said I am not pleased.”
It is only after she takes a delicate sip that the others realize she will not expand on her answer on her own. She blinks again, exactly five seconds after the previous one.
“Um, would it trouble you to share with us the reason?”
“No, it would not.”
Assassin groans quietly.
“Everything is progressing in a satisfactory manner, and I was blessed with a student.” She glances briefly in Assassin’s direction. “You caught a glimpse of our encounter.”
Assassin’s inhumanly red eyes glower ominously.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare…!”
The Maid blinks.
“He has come to me on his own volition, and willingly chose to accept my guidance,” she retorts as she brings the cup closer to her lips. “I do admit, however, that I consider myself fortunate: I expected it to be more difficult to find someone in this era who could follow my footsteps.”
She speaks only after a blink and the next brief sip of the tea, when the cup is back on its plate.
“I do not believe he has what it takes to reach nearly as far as I did in life, but it will be a pleasure to nurture him for as long as I can.”
“Oh…” The glum look on Caster’s face, in spite of the veil covering half of it, does not escape the other’s awareness.
“You do not seem to share my joy, priestess.”
The priestess in question goes rigid at the words, hands tensely holding to the teacup and plate.
“Ah! No, no, by any means, Lady mine! It is, merely, um, well…your achievements are sublime and without parallel in this world…”
The Maid contests the words after another blink of her eyes.
“That is not exactly true, but I understand and appreciate the intent behind the words. Do continue.”
“Ah, yes, thank you. I mean, setting a man of this modern era on the same path you walked; is not that an unreasonable demand on him?”
“How can we expect, then, humanity to thrive if we set lower standards on individuals?” retorts the Maid, blinking during the second pause in her words.
“My Lady, modern humanity progresses through development on a broad scale,” counters Caster with hunched shoulders. “It has grown to a point that individual effort cannot push the whole species forward.”
“Even then,”
Blink.
“That development will inevitably grind to a halt if the quality of the individual human degrades below the axiological threshold.”
“My Lady, I strongly believe that is unlikely to happen.” Caster sounds a little exasperated at this point.
“I have seen enough of this so-called ‘modern era’ to fear the possibility. But I will not allow it to happen, of that you can be certain.”
The Maid’s voice has not changed throughout the whole exchange, but Caster is cowed and Assassin inches away, looking wary. Feeling the need to assert herself, the cloaked Servant gulps down the remainder of her tea before taking the word.
“I don’t give a shit about your lofty bullcrap. I’m going to save Javier. From you, from the Nazis, even from himself if I have to.”
The Maid turns to look at her properly, but Assassin does not relent in the face of the woman’s neutral, yet indescribably intense gaze, interrupted only by the regular blinking, as precise as any atomic clock.
She refuses to relent this time.
“I’ll save him even if he doesn’t want to be saved.”
The Maid looks at her for several more seconds and then, almost imperceptibly, she nods.
“Good. You do that.”
Assassin blinks; it is pure confusion. The Maid turns to Caster.
“Your thoughts?”
“Yes, Miss Liria is a wonderful young lady, and I am grateful for the opportunity to support her loving efforts.”
Assassin sputters (and is secretly grateful there is no tea in her mouth).
“Stop trying to make me into some sort of romantic heroine, for fuck’s sake!”
Caster giggles; it sounds awkward in her deep baritone. The Maid sips tea, the very picture of aristocracy, attire notwithstanding.
Minutes pass in somewhat less tense silence. Teacups are refilled.
“So, why’re you still here?” Assassin asks the Maid in an unabashedly hostile voice. Uncaring, the woman in the black and white uniform enjoys the tea of her own making before answering.
“I will succumb to exhaustion if I do not rest my mind from time to time. I am merely human.”
Assassin scoffed even more loudly.
“I hoped to enjoy a brief, pleasant time here. Later I will take a brief nap, before resuming my efforts at the construction site.”
“It is always the greatest honor and joy to welcome you in my humble workshop, My Lady.”
“Yeah, I call bullshit,” Assassin retorted to Caster’s eager and joyful words. “Seriously, why are you really here?”
“I do not lie, Assassin.”
“Sure thing, then go pester the men and leave us ladies to our beauty sleep.”
“If I am allowed the choice, I would rather stay here. I have no reason to spend time with those who are not receptive to my guidance.”
Assassin wants to hate the Maid. She wants to loathe her with every fiber of her being. Two things stop her: a debt of gratitude to a certain someone, and the occasional moments when the Maid does or says something so mind-blowingly amazing, she can only laugh.
So, she laughs. Loudly and heartily. Caster is considerably more refrained, covering her already-veiled mouth with the back of her hand as she chuckles.
“God, you’re such a—you’re really the top bitch!” Assassin manages to blurt out between bouts of heavy laughter. She falls on the bed on her left side, the teacup and plate flung off her hands freezing in midair and held there by an invisible force.
“Wow. Amazing. I’m amazed. You’re amazing.”
The Maid herself does not react to the other two’s reaction, but Caster would claim she looks a little pleased. She waits for Assassin to calm down to return the teacup and plate to her hands, but with a dismissing gesture Assassin declares she’s had enough, so the Projected objects are made to disappear.
“My Lady, if I may ask: where are you resting quarters? I am not aware…”
“I have none,” admits the Maid. “The temple lacks residential quarters. I am accustomed to sleeping anywhere and everywhere, so it is not an issue.”
“Oh!” Caster claps her hands in what, Assassin assumes, Caster believes to be a “womanly” gesture. “Then, would it not please you to use the bed here for your rest tonight?”
“Wait.” The voice of someone who finds her own rest threatened.
“That would be convenient. My thanks, Caster.”
“Oh, your words do me too much honor, My Lady.”
“Wait!”
“Then, I have some announcement to make before I rest.”
“None of you bitches give a damn about my feelings, do you!?”
Aware that the alternative is sleeping in some gelid room somewhere in the frozen Valparaíso—staying at Fiore Forvedge’s apartment being too much of a risk—, Assassin accepts her fate of sharing a bed with the Maid for the night.
“Caster: there is a significant probability Lancer will come to you. He seeks power to defeat Servant Saver.”
“Right…” mumbles Assassin. “I guess you’ve already figured out Saver’s identity.”
“Of course. Measures will be taken to ensure you do not reveal it to her.”
“Figures.”
“That will happen first thing tomorrow, yes.”
“Um, Fair Lady, about Lancer…?”
“Your competence and judgment are trusted, Caster.”
“Oh…!” Caster glows as if she had been offered all the Holy Grails. “I’m not worthy…!”
Assassin gags at the sight of the other Servant all but groveling at the Maid’s feet, but stops when the Maid’s piercing eyes fall on her.
“Assassin. It is likely Rider will wait until the evening to make a decisive attack with his Noble Phantasm, but he might attempt a preemptive strike with the
Hexensoldaten. For that, he would order you to provide him with Saver’s position at all times. Be mindful of that.”
Assassin can only frown at this. The Maid is not outright telling her to sabotage Rider’s efforts, but there is no reason for this early warning if she is to just do as told by the Fourth Reich.
Shaking her head at her inability to comprehend the Maid’s intentions, Assassin can only accept the words for what they mean to her.
“Right. Mindful. Got it.”
The Maid nods at that.
“Now, as the construction effort reaches its final stage, the demand upon the Grail and the local leylines will rise, meaning your magical energy supply from those sources will decrease accordingly.”
The unexpected announcement does its work of catching the other two Servants’ attention.
“To compensate for that, I will take it upon myself to supply you directly, starting now.”
“Eh?” Assassin.
“Oh…ohh!?”
“Caster, I should not need to clarify that I am celibate, ergo there will be no sexual exchange.”
“…oh.”
“Oh, thank the Lord,” mutters Assassin, feeling a little dazed.
(BGM STOP)