Kingston-upon-Hull, 31st of July, Day before the Holy Grail War begins
"A Holy... Grail War? What's that meant to mean?"
Time was no longer on the side of Avzyrys Prokofiev Tsarfaraon, one of the Magi who could call the Atlas Institute home. The time of doom was fast approaching, predictive calculations all agreed on the immediate ritual as being the cause of a Collapse Phenomenon.
She had no time for pointless questions like this.
It began in the Institute, as all matters relating to Atlas do.
The Atlas Institute was an institution of magecraft which cast its gaze to the future in all matters.
The Wandering Sea viewed all things in the past; behind their temporal locks, they clung to the Mysteries of the Age of Gods, milking what little remains for as long as possible.
The Clock Tower viewed all things in the present; in their covetous towers, they hoard information and Mysteries while trying to seek an immediate solution to their problems in the form of the Root.
The Atlas Institute always looked forward, to the future; both in predicting possible causes of global devastation, and create weapons that are not necessarily bound to magecraft, which will survive the degradation of Mystery with exceptional efficacy.
Avzyrys calculated the future, and found her own "devastation event".
The probability of a collapse spawning from Kingston-upon-Hull was too high for inaction. Even held back by the rules of Atlas, which forbid weapons from being taken out of the Institute, she had to act.
And yet.
And yet!
When she finally found a local magus of sufficient capacities to serve as an aide and contributor, they had no idea of the ritual going on under their very noses...! A Grail War, no less!
While it was derided in the Clock Tower as a worthless, minor ritual from the East, its innovative concept had at least given the reports a place on Avzyrys' desk. It was at least noteworthy for the death of Lord El-Melloi, and for the concept of manifested Heroic Spirits. Someone in Britain had seemingly replicated it, and this local magus had no idea...!
Calm, calm now.
She sighed, gathering her nerves.
"I'll explain it once more, very clearly," she began, "A Holy Grail War is a magecraft ritual, in which seven Masters fight for a Holy Grail, using incarnated Heroic Spirits as familiars in order to fill the Grail. It's alleged to be an omnipotent wish-granting device when filled, though at the climax of the last Grail War in Japan, it malfunctioned and burned half a city down."
"Well that doesn't seem safe-"
"It damn well isn't, but once again! I am a magus of the Atlas Institution, and my calculations predict that this Grail War will cause a Collapse Phenomenon and destroy the world! So, will you help me in this war, as an aide or otherwise?!"
Jane Miller, a British magus born and bred in Hull, mulled it over for a second.
She had heard of Atlas during her studies in the East Riding Unitary Authority branch office of the Clock Tower, but it was not covered extensively.
Nor was her family extensively involved with the dealings of the Clock Tower; they were simple people with little aspiration for the Root, or improving their magecraft. She was the first in several generations to attend any lectures or studies at all.
In other words, if only considering her Magic Circuits, they could be called quite suitable, though her magecraft power itself was lacking.
"Alright. I'll help you, but I've got conditions."
"Such as?"
"I want to learn to Memory Partition. At least three Partitions."
"... I'm not sure you quite understand what that is."
"Exactly."
Avzyrys sighed once again. Jane Miller would be a troublesome aide, but there would be few people in Kingston-upon-Hull willing to help, unaffiliated with other Masters, and with the generations of positive Circuit growth present in Ms. Miller.
She had no choice but to agree to her terms.
Avzyrys Temporary Workshop, Kingston-upon-Hull, 31st of July, 8:08PM
"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Repeat this hence five times. But each time let it be destroyed."
"Let Silver and Steel be the essence. Let stone and the Contract of Atlas be the foundation."
"Give great praise to the One, give great praise to the Three, give great praise to the Seven, give great praise to the Nine."
"Let a wall rise against the falling wind. Let the four cardinal gates close."
"Descend from the Crown, and follow the road from Shadow to Light, until the Calamity be vanquished."
"I propose this now. My will shall be your body, and your blade will bring forth my fate."
"If the Holy Grail beckons you, submit to its call. If my will and reason beckon you, submit to my truth."
"I hereby swear to attain virtue. I hereby swear to dispel evil."
"Descend from the Seventh Heaven with the three words of power."
"Come forth from the Ring of Deterrence, Guardian of the Holy Balance!"
A ten-count aria. Sufficient to be a Greater Ritual on its own.
And yet, a simple ritual for what was a great feat; the manifestation of a hero of yore, a Heroic Spirit immortalized by humanity.
But something strange happened at the very end.
The white-blue light of the ritual circle shifted to a deep, blood-red shade. As if answering the circle's light, a liquid burst from the centre of the circle, coating the floor. It filled the room with a sickly, metallic scent.
Blood.
As quickly as it burst, it recoalesced in the centre, forming a human body. It was clad in purple robes, like a medieval count, with ruffled collars, a deep garnet cape on its shoulders, and a mop of golden hair on its head. As it continued to form, it became recognizably a man, and his facial features contorted in emphatic confusion as his body finished forming. He had yet to open his eyes, but swung his head around as if he could see anyway.
"Oh, it's Dracula! Count Dracula!" Jane spurted out, ignoring the smell as her amazement in the ritual actually working kicked in.
Avzyrys was silent, trying to piece together who this individual reminded her of.
When the Servant opened his mouth to speak, his vicious fangs only affirmed Jane's thoughts, at least for her.
"What is this? An incarnation... and yet, my... and in the skies... no, no, cut! Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut! This is at least a thousand years too early!" He was not pleased. "This is all wrong! Even disregarding casting issues, the entire production is a sham!"
He grimaced, clearly disgusted by the situation at hand.
"Ah, despite the... inconsistency, how about finishing the contract, Servant, Jane?" Avzyrys prodded, still confused herself, but relegating it to just a few rooms in her mind.
'Dracula' cast his gaze to her, displeasure turning to surprise for an instant, before being replaced in turn with an eerie smile.
"Of course. How could I forget, young mistress of Atlas."
She had not introduced herself.
"I am Lancer, the Servant with whom you will contract, and who will abide by your will and be your spear. In this era, I believe the most appropriate name for me would indeed be Dracula."
Finally, it clicked for Avzyrys.
"Wait a moment, aren't you-"
"Dracula, yes."
"But you look a lot like-"
"Dracula, yes."
He gave her an enormous, toothy grin as blood flowed from his still-closed eyes.
"I am indeed Dracula. I am the one who terrorized the Nights of Wallachia."
Kihihihihihihi!
Originally Posted by Baron Magnus
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
