"Master....
Master!"
Aaron sat up with a start, face-to-face with Rider, his Servant, whose armored fingers were clasped tightly around his shoulder.
"I- apologize Master. Shouldst I have awoken thee sooner? It did appear that thee were entangled in nightmares."
But whatever dream had previously possessed him was already gone, left behind in the sudden jolt to reality, and hardly a trace of memory remained in his mind, all except for an inexplicable sense of foreboding. With his mind as empty as it was, the first thing that he noticed was not Rider's words nor his face, but the sky behind him: a pitch-black sky painted with the thin imprints of stars.
They had returned.
...
11:10pm, The Skies Above Athens
Aaron groaned and brought himself to his feet, his body creaking all the way. Spurred by forces which he was too tired to recognize, he made his way to the bow, and overlooked the city below. Ordinarily, the landscape would be alight with gold and white, illuminating even the skies above, but with the vaguely purple fog that clung to the buildings, the lights were few and far between. Under the influence of the spell, most of the people below had already gone to bed, and what lights still peeked from the insides of windows were obscured by that same fog. A view which should have been awe-inspiring was now somber and pitiful, like the body of an animal so deep in hibernation that it was no longer clear if it was alive at all.
He stretched his stiff arms, popping the joints to his own satisfaction, "How long were we gone?"
Rider chuckled with pride. His expression, of course, couldn't be seen behind his face-plate, but Aaron could feel the impression of a smirk on the air, "Two days, mine Master, precisely as foretold. 'Tis the second night since your bout."
"Two days and one night...Damn."
"Something the matter?"
"Nah...I just can't help but think about all the shit that's gone down since we've left. A lot can happen, y'know?"
Rider rolled his head as if to taste his thoughts before he spoke them, "Aye, but naught so dire that we shall not be able to adapt."
He allowed himself to lean onto the rail, his body already starting to complain under the pressure of his own body weight, however little that weight may have been, "That's part of the problem."
"To mean?"
He sighed, "It should be fine tonight, but tomorrow we've gotta leave the Acropolis. We'll have to collect our things, rest up, and go in the morning."
He lowered his chin, "Thee suspect thyself to be under suspicion? Art I to assume thee speak of this realm's knights?"
Aaron nodded, "The first fight was written off as a meteor strike, but, you know what they say: lighting doesn't strike twice, smoke leads to fire and all the rest. I'd be surprised if we weren't the Number One suspects in all the destruction."
Rider raised a hand to his chin, "Wise. We hath likely overstayed our welcome regardless."
Even under the cover of night, the Acropolis was no less visible than during the day, perhaps more so because of the stage lights that illuminated the space in gold at all hours of darkness. His slogging mind focused on that point they slowly approached, trying desperately to devise an actual plan for the future, but his scattered molasses musings were suddenly shattered by a cold needle on his neck- then another, and another.
It was starting to rain.
Behind him, soft but hearty laughter could be heard, "Hah! How melodramatic! To be greeted by rain upon our return. Mayhap there is to be a funeral tonight."
Aaron leaned further into the rail, almost for support, rubbing at the back of his head where a phantom pain could be felt, "Ugh. Don't even joke about that."
"Hah. Enough with the gloom, mine Master. I only jest. Surely thee know that, so long as I live and breathe, harm shall never come to thee?"
"Harm has come to me several times, so I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about."
"Ah, enough. Shall we not be allowed to enjoy the falling rain?"
He rested his aching head in his hands, "You like the rain, Rider?"
Rider's boots clopped against the deck of the ship, until he stood directly next to his Master, and the rain stopped, replaced by a sound like tapping on plastic. When Aaron looked up, there, above him, was a shield made of light, translucent enough to reveal the pitter-pattering of raindrops on the top side.
"Only a fool should praise the rain, mine Master, but so too should a fool condemn it. To a man in the midst of a dry season, the rain cometh as a blessing from the gods, but to a man in the wet season, 'tis their wrath. Rain shalt level mountains and castles, but so too shall it make rivers, lakes and grain. It shall make the skies grey and obscure, but should also wash away the blood and dirt to make paths clear and pristine, even as new. For the purpose of ending a long soliloquy sooner, the rain is Change personified, mine Master, and, like all that we call 'Nature', deserves neither praise nor penance, only respect, and we ought to make the best of it no matter what the case may be."
Aaron rolled his eyes, "Well I'll be damned. If that's your short soliloquy, then go ahead and spare me your long ones."
A sense of dejectedness wafted off his otherwise regal form, "I doth not understand what makes thy mood so foul, so I shall endeavor to ignore thee for such time as this maintains."
He rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky. There were any number of reasons for his mood: the incredible pain that still penetrated every area of his body, the stiffness from his long sleep, the uncertainty of the days ahead, even either the rain or the fact that he had just woken up would've been enough, but all of them together was simply 'too much'.
Thunder rolled overhead and he instinctively grasped at his chest, "I hate the rain."
...
At the same time, a hotel in Athens
Heping dragged her sore body into her room, falling unceremoniously onto the couch. Behind her, Pigsy manifested in the kitchen and began scrounging around, sniffing through the cabinets and investigating each of his snacks one-by-one to determine the one he was most in the mood for munching on.
She should've been hungry, but at some point through their exercise her body had become so tight with effort that each muscle inside her felt solid as a brick, without enough of a cavity for even a light snack to fill. She felt so heavy that the sofa dragged her down like a rock in the ocean, and her mind, tired and vacant, was ready to slip away at any moment, her eyes drifting lazily across the skyline outside the glass balcony door, struggling to find something so worthy of her attention that she wouldn't pass out so quickly. After all, her body and clothes were drenched with sweat and, if nothing else, it was hardly lady-like to go to bed so filthy. Not only did it betray her womanly sensibilities, but also the inborn elegance of a mage, and the inflexible routine of a soldier; all those aspects of her nature which stood at constant odds with one another.
It was difficult to find motivation. Pigsy certainly wouldn't hold her accountable. In fact, he'd probably celebrate if she cast her restraint aside and gave into her more base, animalistic desires. But, even if he would excuse her, she would never excuse herself for such blatant slothfulness.
As she began to pull herself off her seat, and the slick sweat stain that stuck her there, she caught something through the window: a star brighter than all the rest, and of a more solid hue. Instead of moving to the bathroom, or even to the closet to gather her pajamas, she instinctively, as if in a trance, pushed open the sliding door, and examined the strange star from where she was. At first, it appeared to be still, but, in fact, it was drifting lazily across the skyline, and it was on the skyline, not in the sky, hovering just below where the black expanse of space cut into the horizon.
The crisp night air of Autumn cut into her nostrils in a way both satisfying and cruel, tickling the front of her brain to remind her of something she had almost forgotten, "...Pigsy?"
He waddled out of the kitchen-area with a box of animal crackers tucked in his arm, "Waht?"
She hesitated, almost afraid of the answer. If she were wrong, she'd look like a fool, and if she were right...
"By chance, can you smell the Master of Rider?"
Pigsy raised an eyebrow, but, consenting to his Master's request, began to audibly sniff at the air. At first, it was a casual tasting, but as the fog began to leak into the room, his face contorted with focus and he scrambled towards the balcony, jumping up onto the rail to cast his nose as far into the night as he could.
"Wait...yeah! Yeah I do!"
When he opened his eyes, they immediately fell on the drifting, golden star, and a cruel grin cut into his snout, "Yeah! I know what that is!" He turned to his Master with a maniac's smile, "Yer nose ain't bad, Boss! -oink- Rider and his Master are back in action!"
He hopped down and trotted back inside, "Great! We can meet with 'em in the mornin'-oink-! Nothin' to do now but rest up. Reheehee!"
She tilted her head, "In the morning?"
Lancer's head turned back slowly, a suspicious look between his beady eyes, "Boss...What are you thinking?"
"Well..." She pointed at the golden star, which Lancer knew to be Rider's longboat, having seen it the night of their fight with Archer and Berserker, "There they are."
"And?"
She looked around her, as if expecting to see a hidden camera or a studio audience hiding behind the balcony curtains. This was one of many moments where her Servant's thoughts, or, rather, his inability to understand her thoughts, left her at a complete loss.
"They are here. So, why not now?"
He brought his hands together, as if in prayer, "Boss, we're not the only ones that have business with those two -oink-. Better to wait until the mornin' when everybody's back on the down-low, understand? We don't want a repeat of what happened last time."
She raised one hand halfway to her face, as if trying to grab at the words on the air, attempting to arrange them into something she could understand before they reached her ears, "But... if they are in such danger, then would it not be better if we made contact before that danger had the chance to occur?"
He slouched, his previously contorted face falling into lax defeat, "I ain't gonna convince you of anything, am I?"
She tilted her head again, not knowing what he meant.
He waved his hand, "Right, right -oink-. How 'bout this? I'll head over there real quick, touch base, agree on a time and place to meet tomorrow, and then come back. Deal?"
She pursed her lips, her mind protesting against the sudden and uncalled-for debate, "...Sure, but why can I not go?"
"Well," He placed his hands on his hips, "Do ya want to do this quick or not?"
"I can-"
He manifested his rake and began to push against her knees with the shaft. It wasn't forceful, but neither was it unrelenting, and she had to shuffle to the side to prevent her knees from buckling. Whether she liked it or not, the point had been made too effectively to deny: her body was too weak to make it to the Acropolis in as much time as she would've liked, not to mention making it back.
Seeing the defeat on her face, Lancer jumped on the coffee table and cast the head of the rake, latching it onto the rail like a grappling hook and pulling back to increase the tension, "Dontchya worry, Boss. The moment somethin' goes wrong," he winked at her, "I'll run away as fast as I can -oink-."
Something didn't quite feel right to her, as if the bricks that filled her stomach were shaking under the weight of an ethereal earthquake, "..Right. Be careful, Pigsy. Please."
"Yeah, yeah."
He pulled the chain taught, and appeared to tense his body to fly-
"-Wait."
He turned to her with visible frustration, "What? What now!?"
"That's the second time."
"Huh? 'Second time' what?"
"You did not say it."
"Say what!?"
She pursed her lips, and spoke in a sorry excuse for an impersonation, " 'Don't call me Pigsy.' "
Lancer threw his rake on the floor in a huff, sending it bouncing and clattering across the hard carpet, "So you WERE listening!"
Heping pouted childishly, "I do have ears."
His hands grasped at the air, a vein pulsing in his forehead, "You have ears -oink-, but you refuse to use them! Why did you ignore me!?"
She huffed, "Because... it was cute."
"Is that all I am to you!? Just a-"
He paused, as if stopped in time, and then turned to the side, both the blood in his cheeks and his hand rising to his face, "Wait... I never really tried that angle -oink- did I? If girls think I'm cute then..."
He turned back to his Master, one hand picking up his rake and the other giving her a boisterous thumbs-up, a trickle of blood sliding from his snout, "Thank you, my Master. You've opened my eyes to a strength that I didn't know I had. I owe you a great debt."
She was unspeakably confused, but was so used to being behind the conversation that it no longer bothered her. Instead, she pushed down her fears and wished her Servant,
"Good luck. Be safe."
The chain became taught again, "Don't worry, Master, I'll do better than just safe: I'll be a complete and utter coward!"
The rake shot tight and catapulted Pigsy into the darkness, sending him flying across the cityscape with a fading, echoing "Reheeehee!" announcing his farewell. A farewell that his Master worried could be final.
...
Caster, Dionysus, leaned against the window-wall of the Alghul villa, a smile creeping, stretching unnaturally across his face, as if an artist were constantly altering the counters of his expression, never satisfied with the end result.
"Aisha!"
The upstairs door creaked open, and the woman called 'Aisha Alghul' stepped out in leopard-print pajamas, "What is it Caster? Is it time?"
His eyes gleamed with pure malice, while the white of his teeth painted with pure joy, "It is precisely that time. Are the preparations complete?"
She feigned offense, clutching at invisible pearls, "You insult me, Caster. Who do you think I am exactly?"
"I think that you're the Master who'll emerge victorious in this Grail War."
She whipped her hair, "Naturally. As if there were any other outcome."
The corners of his smile stretched further, almost beyond the bounds of his face,
"Yes. Naturally."
He turned back to the window, opening the balcony door and stepping out into the crisp air, raising his hands to address the black sky that assaulted him with rain,
"Can you feel it? The tyranny of the gods you serve will soon collapse, and a new order will rise from its ashes. The moon is at its height, but soon the dawn will rise on a new age. Just as Cronus killed Uranus, and Zeus did Cronus, men will rise and become their own gods, being led by the son of their former king, a rebel against his brothers and sisters. Can you feel it, you who call yourself Berserker? Or are you too mad to hear?"
He opened his eyes, raindrops sliding across his cheeks and touching his lips, "Then again, weren't you always?"
...
The pain in his chest wouldn't go away, and Aaron began to double over, being assaulted from the insides of his skin.
Rider lifted a cautious hand, "Master... Art thou-"
He yelled through gritted teeth, "No! No I'm not -fucking- okay!" As much as he wanted to hold them back, salty tears touched at his eyes, "Dammit, dammit! Why?! Why can't I get even one -fucking- break!"
"Master...?"
At first, the outburst seemed uncalled for, and Rider's mind moved to wonder whether leaving his Master asleep for so long had a disastrous effect on his sanity, before the reason became clear in the pressure above them, a pressure that his Master could sense before even he. Such was their connection, such was Aaron's debilitating fear: enough that every cell in his body was trained to detect the feeling-
The feeling that lightning was about to strike.
BOOM!
Lightning as thick as a tower and as bright as the sun struck the plaza atop the Acropolis, and, when the smoke cleared, there He was: Berserker. A being akin to a god, filled with the fearsome might of nature itself.
"Dammit!"
Aaron threw his fist against the bow, and found that it didn't hurt. His broken hand had been healed, but this only increased his frustrations, the overwhelming sense of helplessness cracking at the bones in his body.
He turned his back to the colossus, and marched back the other way, "Enough of this bullshit! I give up! Set sail, Rider!"
But Lugh's armored hand gripped him by the shoulder as he passed, steadying his Master's shaking body, "I hath said already, we cannot return from whence we came. 'Tis not possible to journey anywhere but forward."
"Bullshit! We can make it! And even if we don't... at least- at least-!"
There was the unique sound of metal on flesh- Rider struck Aaron across the face.
"Enough! Pay attention o' Master of mine. Take a second look at our foe."
With frustration, rage, and despair clashing in his stomach, Aaron trudged back to the bow, and took a closer look at the colossus. It was difficult; he could hardly stomach looking at the sight of a beast that could and would tear him limb-from-limb.
'What?' he thought, 'What could there possibly be worth seeing? What could make this anything other than a terrible idea?'
But now that he was forced to, he could feel the electric-blue focus of Berserker on him and see that there wasn't any hostility there. Berserker stood like a snake in his burrow, poised to strike, not out of malice, but out of a fierce protective instinct. He thought this, this lack of obvious malintent, was what Rider wanted him to see, but there was something else- a shadow at the giant's feet.
"They hath come to bargain, mine Master."
...