Chapter 2
"I shall guide you..."
It was a frequent misunderstandings among the lower, and higher, families that made up the Clock Tower that the title of Lord indicated that one was superior by default. While it was certainly true that those of the major families might as well be immune to disgrace, the minor families were often left to fend for themselves.
Never in public, of course. It was required that they give the appearance of cohesion and stability in order to maintain the establishment. But if the wrong move was made, the heir that had until now never missed for anything might suddenly find that it wasn't so easy to acquire the ingredients for their next experience. Minor inconveniences would pile up, and eventually it turned out that a magus' entire life could be spent overcoming the consequences of having offended the wrong person.
In order to avoid such problems every Lord had come to develop political links to lesser families, a veritable web of supporters and friends that would ensure that everything went smoothly.
It was by playing the role of supplier and contact thanks to their extensive network in Western Asia that the Wynne family maintained their relatively lofty position under one of the Lordly houses.
Johnathan Wynne, the current head, found this situation objectionable.
It wasn't that he had anything against politics, really. To be honest, the subjugated status of his house didn't bring any great discontent. The problem was that he had realized after inheriting his magic crest that his father had spent so much time sucking up to the higher ups that he had almost universally failed to advance their craft.
That, he had issues with.
How could he possibly make up for that loss of momentum? Progress was a magus family's lifeblood, and stagnation only led to inevitable decay.
Since he wasn't a prodigy that could single-handedly advance the cause and his predecessor had been lacking in judgment, it fell to him to find a way to garner an advantage that would make up for it.
Simply put, he needed knowledge and wisdom that would make up for the underwhelming past generations.
That ongoing quest was the reason why he now found himself standing before a crimson red circle engraved on the ground.
"The circle is ready. Are there any last minute pieces of advice that you would like to share, instructor?"
Barely reacting to the irritation in his voice, the man that he had adressed sent a disdainful look at the circle on the ground over the electronic device that he held.
"Yeah: If you manage to fuck up something this simple, Belfaban should fire your teacher. Dammit, the batteries are low."
Muttering in a tone too low to be heard, the man looked back down toward the screen.
Restraining himself from sighing, Johnathan reminded himself that he should be grateful to have the man's cooperation at all. The difference in status between himself and a Lord would normally make it unthinkable for them to act as equal.
Which had made for quite a surprise when, after making his intent to participate in the Fifth Holy Grail War known, he had received a personal visit from Lord El-Melloi II.
For reasons that he couldn't fathom, this rising star among the instructors of the Clock Tower had offered to accompany him as a consultant. Considering that Wynne himself considered his odds of victory to be next to non-existent, this made little sense.
Still, when given the chance to receive help from such a prestigious character - a veteran from the Fourth War, at that! - he had found himself unable to refuse.
Learning that El-Melloi II was one of the most deliberately insufferable persons he had ever met made him regret that decision slightly.
Retrieving the catalyst, a small ring, from a hidden pocket in his coat, he bent to carefully place it in the center.
"Dammit!" Suddenly agitated, El-Melloi threw the device on a nearby table. Recovering his morose expression a second later, he turned to the startled Johnathan. "Well, anyway. Just in case you end up messing it up, what containers have been called so far?"
A question like that normally couldn't be answered by anyone except the supervisor of the war. However if there was one thing that Johnathan could take pride in, it was in his talent to "receive information". Over the past month he had managed to elaborate a system that would analyze the information emitted by the Greater Grail, allowing him to detect the flow of prana associated with the summoning of an entity as powerful as a Servant.
An ability doubly useful since it also drew a bullseye right on his future rivals' workshops.
"Archer was summoned before we even arrived." He recited from memory while checking the scrying tablet for any changes. "Berserker was summoned two days ago, and Rider was summoned yesterday. At this pace, the war will begin in the next three days."
The urgency was one of the reasons why he had hurried in the preparation of the circle. As far as he could tell, the Heroic Spirit that he intended to summon could only fit the class of Caster. If someone else called such a Servant first, he would have to rely on chance to provide him with an adequate Servant.
"That's interesting." Brushing his hair with his hand, El-Melloi elaborated at Johnathan's confused look. "Normally, you'd expect Assassin to be summoned early. If you have the time to plan ahead, you can set things up to eliminate people quickly. The fact that no one took advantage of the ability to choose Assassin means that they either had something specific in mind, or just came in and summoned without a plan."
There seemed to be some bitterness at those last words, but Wynne decided to let it go; there was no way to tell how the man would react if he started prying into his affairs.
"Well, anyway." Waving his previous comment away, the instructor went to sit at the table that his unfortunate device had landed on. "Do what you have to."
Nodding, Wynne positioned himself in front of the circle.
It felt a little absurd to be carrying out such an life-changing ritual in a warehouse of all things, but it had been El-Melloi's opinion that a grandiose base was the most likely to be found.
Raising one hand to circle, he intoned the chant that would seal his participation.
"Let silver and steel be the essence.
The foundation shall of stone.
And the archduke of contracts.
Let gold be the color of the tribute..."
He could feel the answer from afar, as a torrent of wind began to rise from the circle with the answer of the Holy Grail. Even the unflappable instructor had fallen motionless in front of the raw power that now filled the room.
Raising his voice, he continued the incantation without flaw even as the violent flow of prana spread through his limbs like a thousand knives, bringing him to his knees.
At last, after what seemed like an hour of suffering, he reached the final words of the ritual.
"-If you will acknowledge this will and reason, appear, protector of the balance!"
A sun was born amidst the circle, blinding golden light filling the room and forcing him to shield his eyes.
"I have arrived, in answer to your summons." Even as the light receded, he could only smile in trumph and continue to kneel; the majestic voice that rang out the proof of his success. "In accordance with the contract, I shall guide you along the path to your desire."
Originally Posted by Meh
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