Prologue IX
The Star Performers' Feast (Part 2)
In the dark.
Time rewinds to just after Saber was arrested and made his speech to in front of the television cameras.
"Man, that was hilarious!"
The memory of a Heroic Spirit being lead off by the police made Francesca burst into fit after fit of laughter until she collapsed in the center of her bed, wiping tears from her eyes. Eventually she raised herself to a kneeling position, then crossed her legs and raised one hand.
"Well, it's about time for me to do my part as a mastermind!"
She snapped her fingers, and the candles around her lit. Faint, flickering light illuminated the center of the room.
It revealed a magic circle, identical to those the other Master's had used to summon their Heroic Spirits, on the floor before the luxurious bed. Only one detail separated it from the proper ritual: the fact that the canopied bed sat where the altar should have been.
Then, toying with a cookie she had produced from who knew where, Francesca began a rhythmical, singsong chant.
"♪A pinch of silver and a pinch of iron♪
"♪Boil up the head clerk♪
"♪That's Até's lovely recipe♪"
It was far removed from the incantation for summoning a Heroic Spirit. I sounded as if Francesca was mocking the Grail War itself. If anyone had heard her, they would have either burst into a rage, or scoffed that she could never summon anything that way.
"♪Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill it up♪
"♪Fill, fill, fill it till it spills♪
"♪Bring together five closed wounds♪"
The ridiculous chant tumbling rhythmically from her lips ironically resembled the one a certain homicidal maniac had once used, in a "real" Holy Grail War, to summon her "best friend."
There were still openings in the roster of Heroic Spirits; she was not trying to forced the Grail to manifest an extra. It was true that such an incantation should have had no chance of succeeding... but Francesca had not even finished it before the magic circle began to glow.
"♪I offer you my body, I offer you my—♪
"Ha ha! Ahaha! ♪Time's up, so I'll skip the rest...♪"
She had not put a powerful desire into her call like the silver wolf, nor had she bridged the gap with genius mystical interference like Flat Escardos. And yet, her summoning had succeeded.
There was only one reason: the affinity of the Heroic Spirit to the "catalyst" she had used to call it was extremely high. And that catalyst, enshrined atop its altar — the bed — was Francesca herself.
The light of the summoning circle faded, and there stood a boy. He looked about the same age as Francesca. His lustrous hair was neatly cut. His face would have been beautiful, except for something indefinably sickly about his eyes.
An instant later, the dim space where the summoning circle had been became a field of flowers as far as the eye could see. In its center, the boy Heroic Spirit made a reverent, weirdly exaggerated bow without looking at Francesca's face. Then he flung his arms wide and shouted:
"Ha ha! My new Master must be quite the eccentric to summon me! Very well! I don't know what you expect of me, but I won't make you regret it! I'll lift—"
"'Lift you up to heaven with a dream of bliss, then drop you all the way down to hell with bewitching, scorching nightmare!' Am I right?" The grinning Francesca called out from her seat at the center of the bed.
"Hm? Oh? What's this?" The Heroic Spirit muttered inquisitively, looking confused. Francesca's words to him were exactly what he had been about to say to her.
"And once you've said that, you turn all these flowers into human children's arms!"
"Hm? Hmm... Have you, maybe, summoned me before? If so, I'm shocked you're still alive. To summon me twice, your brains must be—" The boy started to say. Then he realized who the girl mage in front of him really was.
"What? No way. Really?"
"Really. When do your memories from 'when you were alive' stop?"
"They go up to the first time I was executed... But more importantly, what are you up to?"
"A Holy Grail War. Of course, I've already messed with its guts so much even I can't tell if it's real or fake!"
As he listened to Francesca's explanation, a look of delight gradually stole across the face of the Heroic Spirit in the form of a boy. At last, he burst into wild peals of laughter. As he cackled, the whole field of flowers turned into children's arms growing from the ground. Pairs of adjacent hands clapped their palms together as if to celebrate the boy and girl by surrounding them with a round of twisted applause.
"A-a-are you crazy!?" The boy Heroic Spirit shouted, still laughing and clutching his belly. "You must be! Hehe... Hahahaha! Wh-wh-why would you ever do something like that!? You must be out of your mind! Hahahaha!"
The boy cavorted, cackling as if he had gone mad. He spun, leapt onto Francesca's bed, sat down beside her, and opened one of the bags of snacks that lay strewn about. Then he familiarly rubbed his shoulder against Francesca's and began to munch on the bag's contents.
"Ahaha! Me summoning me! What an awful joke! Mmm... Hey, these are delicious. Is this what modern snacks are like? What an incredible age!"
"Isn't it? Anyway, I was the catalyst. I was ninety percent sure I'd get 'me,' although I did hope that maybe, just maybe, Gilles would turn up!"
"Oh, come on; Gilles would never show up for a Grail War!"
"As a matter of fact, he did! Gilles! I could only watch from a distance thanks to the descendents of that bug-tamer from Kiev, but he really was there! He was in the throne, you know? Gilles!"
"That's amazing! What was his class? Saber? Rider?"
"Nope. Caster."
"How!? I mean Gilles, a Caster? Oh, because of me! Hahaha!"
When the pair had finished entertaining each other with a conversation only they could understand, Francesca's face grew suddenly serious.
"So you see," she addressed the Heroic Spirit sitting beside her, "I'm pretty serious... I decided to rush the schedule and hold a Holy Grail War I can have my way with in this city! And I got all sorts of people and countries mixed up in it!"
"Why didn't you summon Gilles, then? Although I guess it'd be hard to survive a Grail War with him."
Francesca answered the obvious question with a little shake of her head.
"Well, we can take our time talking about that later. Before that, we've got to seal our initial contract!"
"Oh, you're right! It completely slipped my mind! Speaking of which, if you do get the Grail, what will you use it for? Of course, I can pretty much guess."
"I'm pretty sure you guessed right."
"I see. It's true that you'd need something on the level of a Grail to capture
that labyrinth."
The boy sprang up from the bed, moved to the center of the summoning circle, then turned to face Francesca and made a respectful bow.
"I ask you: are you the arrogant, foolish princess who wants to enslave me in your quest for the Holy Grail — or for endless pleasures and nightmares?"
"Yup! Absolutely!"
A chorus of agonized cries sounded from beneath the ground, and the children's arms growing around them burst into flames. In the blink of an eye, they were bleached skeletons. Then they crumbled to ash. The ash swirled in the gloom, and the Heroic Spirit loudly declared the contract formed.
"Behold! The pledge is made!"
The boy spread his arms amid the dust and sang out his name at the top of his voice:
"My name is Francois Prelati!"
Then, with an innocent smile, he continued the formula of the contract.
"As the loyal servant of my Master, Francois — whoops, you're in a girl's body now —
Francesca Prelati, I swear to risk my life to guide you to the Holy Grail!"
"I also swear — to risk my soul to win through the Holy Grail War fair and square, so that you may obtain the Holy Grail in righteous glory!"
Then, the boy and girl's smiles turned sly. Francois and Francesca continued to in perfect unison.
"'Just kidding!'"
X X
The same time. Snowfield. Underneath a thermal power station.
Around the same time that Francesca was summoning herself somewhere in the city, Haruri, a mage specializing in witchcraft who had been trying to summon the true Berserker, was dying underneath one of its several thermal power stations.
How did things end up like this, again...?
Seeing the color of blood in the corners of her glazed eyes, she concluded that she was going to die soon. Healing magecraft was one of her specialties, but her magical energy was almost exhausted.
She was certain her preparations to summon Berserker had been perfect. She was also certain that her summoning had actually succeeded. The problem was that the Berserker she had summoned had gone on a rampage before she had a chance make her contract. She had taken the full force of one of its blows.
Still, I guess I'm... satisfied. It seems stronger... than I expected...
She could dimly see the Heroic Spirit she had summoned. It looked bizarre.
It appeared to be pacing around the room on all fours. Each step it took produced harsh, mechanical sounds. Incandescent light blazed in its eyes. The groans that occasionally emanated from it sounded distorted, like record played with a rusty needle.
I poured plenty of my magical energy into you... and you should be able to get an alternative power source from this station... So, you'll be able to rampage to your heart's content...
Haruri could not suppress a wry smile as she watched the rust-covered "thing" approach her.
Although I bet you hate using energy your rival, Nicola Tesla, made. Oh... maybe that's why... you went out of control...
"It" was now right in front of her. The ghastly Heroic Spirit looked like nothing so much as a robot with the motif of a four-legged spider or a grotesque lion.
But it's strange... Even as Berserker... I expected him to look more... human. Could Mazda's influence have something to do with it...?
I knew I should have summoned him as Caster and not let Francesca have it...
It was too late for regrets. Haruri, however, did not fear death. She specialized in witchcraft, but she always used her own blood for her sacrificial medium.
She had even drawn her summoning circle in her own blood. She had needed to shed a very nearly dangerous amount of it, but she had taken her time, occasionally giving herself a transfusion from the blood packs she had prepared in advance for the purpose and using healing magecraft to stimulation blood formation.
If the thing she had summoned as a result was going to kill her, then this must be as far as she could go. Haruri smiled derisively at herself and slowly stretched out a hand toward the Heroic Spirit.
"Alright... I'll sacrifice myself... to you..."
She had only one wish for the Grail: revenge against the "magical society" that had taken everything from her people. She did not care if it was the Clock Tower, the Atlas Institute, or even the various unauthorized mage circles that dotted the globe. She simply felt that nothing could be more ironic than bringing them to ruin through machinery, industry, or any other overpowering "energy" distant from magecraft.
Maybe it serves me right... for trying to use the Grail for something so petty...
"Come on, kill me. In exchange... go on living however you want as long as you exist. Show the whole world what you are. Make their secrecy pointless..."
Haruri put the last of her willpower into the declaration. Once she had made it, it did not matter to her when she was killed. She resolved to wait for the Heroic Spirit to strike. What actually descended on her, however, was an unfamiliar woman's voice.
"You've got a weird way of struggling."
Haruri instinctively opened her eyes, which had been shut tight. Before her stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman with unnaturally white skin.
An... an Einzbern homunculus!?
She had heard that one was in the city and assumed it was after a Master's position. Still, had never expected it to appear here. She had been sure the site of her summoning was completely secret.
I really must be paying for my sins... I've always been careful to only use myself as a sacrifice, but once I got here, I didn't care what happened to the townspeople... and it made my magecraft impure.
She decided that if she was going to be killed either way, it did not make much difference if it was by the Einzbern homunculus or the Heroic Spirit. Then she noticed something strange.
"...What?"
Her wounds were closing. Her vision was clearing.
"Wh-what? But I..."
She did not remember casting a healing spell. In the first place, her magical energy was running dry, so she could not have even if she wanted to. Haruri was baffled, and what the "white woman" said next only baffled her more.
She turned to the Berserker beside her and addressed it as if it was her pet dog.
"Come on. That girl's your Master. Now hurry up and make a contract."
What in the world...?
Pain receded and confusion took it's placed in Haruri's brain. She had not yet formed a contract, but the rights of a Master were still hers. She barely had time to think that no Berserker would listen to a mage who did not even have Command Seals, however, before another of her accepted notions crumbled.
"Pro... PRRRRRRR-ro-ro-ro... Protec... ect-ect-ectTTTT."
Berserker did as the "white woman" said and bowed its head in a show of obedience to the fallen Haruri.
"Good boy. That's it. I'll tie your meridians to her for you."
An instant later, the pass of magical energy linked them, and the Heroic Spirit's sensations reached Haruri through her Command Seals. That was when she realized — the Berserker she had summoned was afraid of the "white woman."
"Wh-who... are you...?"
"Still," the "white woman" continued, ignoring Haruri's question, "you're lucky a 'vessel' this easy to enter just happened to be here."
She stared at her own hands and feet, then nodded, apparently impressed. Next, she turned to look at the confused-looking Haruri and slowly reached out a hand to touch Haruri's cheek.
That was when Haruri realized. Realized that the "power" flowing into her through the woman's hand did not belong in this world.
Im-impossible... This is... But she's not even a Heroic Spirit...! No; even for a Heroic Spirit, such concentrated "power" is...!
The "white woman" — or, more accurately, the thing inside the "white woman" — must have sensed Haruri's fear.
"Don't worry," she smiled confidently. "I may not look like it, but I'm fond of humans."
There was warmth in the words, but they seemed to come from such a height that none of it reached Haruri.
"Now that I'm here, I'll be sure to rule you properly!"
At that point the mechanical doll that was supposed to be Haruri's Servant let out a roar, as if to show his approval. As if in praise of the "white woman."
"███████████████████████████████RRRRrrrRRR—!"
What?
Haruri had been released from the fear of death, but another fear had taken its place.
She did not yet know how terrible the thing that had taken up residence in the Einzbern homunculus due to the influence of the catalyst she had prepared truly was.
Thus, the players were all assembled. On the stage of Snowfield, every one of them was a spectator, every one of them was a critic, and each and every one of them was a performer.
With the exception of one boy who had yet to make the jump from the interlude to the stage. One boy the Grail had yet to assign a part.
Originally Posted by -Neve-
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