...
Artorias MacMannan greeted Aaron with a malicious grin, "There ya are. I've been lookin' for ye."
It was hard to narrow his eyes without falling asleep, but he managed, "What do you want, MacMannan? I can't imagine you came all this way for nothing."
"Oh-hoh!" A vein began to bulge in his forehead even as he smiled, "Ah, but I'm not the only one who's been busy, am I? Rats always like to scurry 'round, don't they? Can't just stay still even for a moment."
His own vein bulged above his baggy eyes, his old street habits showing themselves for the first time in a while.
"Rat? You talkin' about me?"
"Damn right, ya bastard! Did ya really think I wouldn't find you out!?" He spat on the pavement, "-Did you think killin' your pilot would be enough to cover your tracks? Easy enough to figure out there was only one guy on the plane."
"What-"
-
"...Look, Jason had to accelerate the timetables a little bit; you're coming with me now, so hurry up, kid, and try not to jump in front of another car while you're at it, alright?"
-
He had almost forgotten- no, he had forgotten about Jason, about that man, about the whole ordeal before that. He had hardly paid a passing thought to Jason, to MacMannan, or to anyone or anything beyond Athens since the war began.
And now, someone else had been hurt by his own thoughtlessness, his own uselessness.
His tough exterior melted away.
"How'd he die?"
"Don't gimme that shit! You had him killed!"
"I didn't! Look, Jason had a lot of enemies-"
"He sure did, and you sicced 'em on 'im when he least expected it! Y'know how many bullet holes were in his plane when they dug it outta the ground?"
"You could at least let me speak!" Aaron brought his phone from his pocket and held it up, "You're the one who wanted to talk, right!? You're the one who dragged me out here, aren't you!? So at least hear what I have to say!"
MacMannan scoffed, "Yer right. I guess I just wanted to hear ya boast and brag, to let ch'ya do yer monologue or some shite like that before I burst your little bubble, but you're really committed to the bit ain't ch'ya? Jason hasn't got shit to do with this anyway-"
-
A thought itched at the back of Aaron's mind. Early on in the war he and Rider had analyzed the fog and determined its properties. It was meant to close off the war from those who had nothing to do with it, to set a curfew for those who weren't involved to keep both themselves and the secrets of magic safe. That meant that the only ones who could stay awake without being targeted by hostile mystics were those with a Command Seal...
-
"-I'm here 'cause ya bailed on us! I'm here 'cause you got wrapped up in another war, and covered your ass by reporting me to the Clocktower!" His malicious smile returned, "Unfortunately for you, your little snitch came too late!"
"I didn't-!"
He removed his right fist from his pockets, baring it towards Aaron, and revealing a red sign on the back, like two daggers intersecting over a cliff.
"Assassin! Live up to your title!"
From behind him, a silver fog began to rise and take shape, mixing with and then overshadowing the indigo haze that had already encircled the city.
Aaron grit his teeth and prepared his body to respond to whatever came.
"Rider!"
On one side, a silver mist took human shape, on the other, gold fireflies became something similar. Rider formed behind Aaron, though not in anything like a combat stance. He took a neutral pose, wielding the full force of his regal presence, further enhanced by his glinting silver armor and cold, unmoving faceplate. Behind MacMannan, the Servant 'Assassin' emerged from the mist and began to walk forward. He was about the same height and stature as Rider and wore a more traditional style of European armor. It was silver, but where Rider's was gleaming and smooth, his appeared tarnished with what looked like gray rust, almost as if it were made of the same fog he'd emerged from. His helmet should've exposed his face, but it was as if behind that veil was a portal to a world of pure darkness, with only two teal flames where his eyes should've been. What's more, two, branching, curling antlers emerged from his helmet, glowing the same, soft teal. They would've looked normal, except that they emerged from the forehead, growing out towards where his eyes were looking. In one hand, an elegant longsword was held towards the ground.
Rider raised his chin with a soft noise. It could've been a scoff, or a chuckle, or a simple grunt of acknowledgement, but Aaron couldn't tell.
"Ah, I never did expect to see the great and mighty king of the Otherworld brought to heel by the power of a Command Seal. How strange to see you walking amongst mortal men."
The teal flames flickered in something like a twitch, "So, you know me, do you? And yet I do not recognize you." He lowered his sword further, "Very well. In respect to your regal bearing, I will let you state your name before I kill you."
"Hurry the fuck up, Assassin!"
Both Servants ignored MacMannan's outburst.
"Thee doth not recognize me? A pity to be sure."
"Should I be expected to recognize you from behind a mask? Take it off so we may speak man-to-man."
Rider began to laugh. It was a grand laugh that echoed through the empty, narrow streets. "What swagger! Of course thee shouldst recognize me." He reached up and removed his mask, lowering it so that only his piercing eyes were visible, "Thee shouldst recognize me as a son does his father, or a minister his king."
He clicked the mask back into place and continued, "I doth praise thy farce. 'Tis not often that an illusion suffices to trick even mine own piercing light. And yet you shall receive no further praise from me. To lie to mine face in the shape of mine own friend-" A sudden pressure erupted, displacing the fog around him, "I shall not tolerate it! Reveal thyself to me before my fury lays waste to the both of you!"
The new figure flinched back, and MacMannan glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
"What're you doing?! Assassin!"
Rider lowered his head and spoke with a growl, "Well, my so-called 'Assassin'? What say thee?"
The figure in silver armor seemed to jolt back to his senses. With a new resolve, he strode forward towards Rider. The Master's grin widened with madness, but soon faltered, leaving only bared teeth as Assassin sheathed his sword and lowered to the ground before Aaron and Rider in a bow. The armor evaporated into silver mist, and there was another person entirely; a boy. He wore a misted slate cloak, his hood was down to reveal shoulder-length, gold-blonde hair. He wore a deep, dark brown vest with teal engravings and matching bracers. His pants and boots followed a similar aesthetic, but were dwarfed by the sheathes on either hip. One was silver and gold, while the other was red and brown. When he lifted his head, he revealed a fair face with eyes like two emeralds.
Rider chuckled, "If it shouldn't be the Prince of Dyfed. I should have known. The Lord of the Otherworld would never have submitted himself to the Throne of Heroes, and only you could have mimicked him so convincingly, my son."
"I'm sorry, father. If only I had been summoned as a Saber, or a Rider, then I wouldn't have had to trick you like that."
"You are forgiven, son. Take no shame in thy class. An Assassin hath as much a place on a battlefield as an archer or a spearman, though less honor, granted. But if thee should be sacrificing thine honor for the sake of thine country, or thine Lord or Lady, thee shall hear no ill word from me. So tell me, son, is what thee hath done worthy of the honor thou hast sacrificed?"
He lowered his head again, "If my actions have led me to raise my sword against you, O King of Light, then there was never any good that could've come of them."
"What the Hell are you doing! Kill them!"
"Silence!" Rider turned his attention to MacMannan, "Do not interfere, foul-mouthed brigand! You have no friends here."
"Assassin! You're my Servant, damn ye! Don't make me use a Command Seal!"
The fair faced boy turned to his Master with an ice-cold glare.
"Up to now, I have served you as my Lord, but I have no use for someone who would order me to kill someone so great as the one before us now."
Before he could yell back at his Servant, Rider stepped past the kneeling Assassin.
"I doth smell the Fomorian blood in thee, villain. Try if thoust would dare; thine death would be swift, and t'would bring me far too much pleasure. Answer me, then: do you think yourself faster than light?"
...
Later, in a moonlit bar,
"Yarharhar!"
Artorias beat his fist on the bar counter with such severe thuds that the wood cracked under his fist. Aaron's eyes anxiously flitted over to the broken door and quietly hoped that the bar he'd invaded had no real security.
MacMannan took another swig of his stolen beer.
"I can't believe it... you really got stuck in another one of these damned wars?"
"Heh... yeah. I did."
"Hah-Well. Sucks to be you."
"You won't kill me then?"
"No reason ta. If yer not the one who ratted me out to Policies, then I've got no blood with ya. That pompous-ass Servant of yours, though... well, he'll get what's comin' to him eventually. They all do."
"Huh? The Hell do you mean by that?"
"Ah- those goody-two-shoes types always fall on their face at some point. They don't know how to look after themselves, not like we do."
"Really? Aren't you the one that got made into the Clocktower's bitch?"
MacMannan clapped his hand on Aaron's shoulder, with enough force that he could feel the handprint on his skin through his shirt, and looked into his face with a mean glare and meaner smile.
"Crisis makes opportunity, boyo. That's what real men understand."
He managed a half-confident smirk, "So that's why you're here, is it? You want to make up for the Grail you already lost?"
"Maybe so." He leaned back, "But not here. Not now. This has all gone to shite already. And since you're not the rat I need to kill, I haven't got any reason to stick around."
"What do you mean 'it's gone to shit'?"
"This war's been going on for two weeks now, right?"
"Yeah."
"And no one's died yet?"
"Not that I know of."
Artorias drained the last of his bottle, "That's all I need to know. A war fer two weeks and not one death? That means someone's already taken hold of the reins. Somebody's already got everybody else dacin' in the palm of their hand, and I want nothin' to do with that shite."
Aaron considered the idea, "I don't understand..."
MacMannan leaned in, "When blood starts to flow, and gunshots start goin' off, people get panicked. They get rash. Their trigger finger starts to itch, and itch, the pressure starts to rise and rise... if someone can keep a level head, they must have a lotta control over themselves. That, or someone else has a lotta control over them. Someone who's safe. Someone who ain't gotta worry about the blood, or the bullets, or the pressure. Someone behind the curtain. Someone holdin' the strings from backstage. Ya see what I mean?"
"It's... a complicated situation."
"I'm sure it is. And I want nothin' to do with it."
He stood from the barstool and began to waddle towards the door, his top-heavy stature wobbling like a dreidel.
"How long are you going to be in town?"
"Its gonna be a minute, sure. I got someone else to visit 'fore I head back to London. But once the higher-ups understand that their only Servant's Master is in danger they'll be quick to pull me outta here."
Aaron turned on the stool to face the man's back, "Well, I've got a job for you before you go."
"Hoh?" He turned back with the same mean smile, "You think you can order me around just 'cause I decided not to kill ya?"
"Order you around? No." He allowed his own cruel smile to rise to his face, even as nerves shook his insides, "But your Servant on the other hand... I know I can order him around. He'll do anything my Rider tells him to do whether you like it or not. See, I don't need your permission to get what I want, but I'll let you in on it. I'll give you a chance to make a deal. To pay you fairly for your help."
MacMannan's teeth grit through his smile, "My boy... Ya play your cards well, I'll give ya that."
"Crisis and opportunity, right?"
He shook his head like a wet dog, "Tell ya what, I've got no intention of stickin' round long, but the higher-ups would be happy if I at least got them some dirt. Ya know where I can find some?"
"I can show you where the battle was held tonight, and tell you what little I know of the Masters and Servants, at least the ones that disagree with me. That should be plenty."
"Yeah, sure. That sounds 'bout right. Ugh-" He rolled his eyes, "I don't give even the slightest shite, but my partner-" the word came out as a growl, "Is lookin' for someone. I have to ask."
"Someone?"
"Yeah, a girl."
....