***
Void… there was emptiness everywhere…
Shiro looked around. An endless wasteland stretched before him, reaching to the horizon. It was dark here, despite the skies above being engulfed in flames. And the cold… a horrid grave-like cold wrapped around him, causing thick steam to escape from his mouth with each breath.
— This… am I where I think I am? – he mumbled, closing his eyes. – So, this is what it looks like…
But Emiya didn't get to finish his thought, as the world was suddenly swallowed by darkness…
***
The first thing Shiro felt was pain. A sharp, pulsing pain that echoed in his chest with each breath. The rest of his body was in much better condition, but that didn't bring him much comfort.
- However… if I feel this lousy, it means I'm still alive, – he concluded, somewhat logically.
He struggled to open his eyes and saw a low stone ceiling above him. After propping himself up a little, Emiya looked around. The room was furnished in a genuinely Spartan fashion: apart from a table against the wall, a couple of braziers at different ends of the room (which apparently served as sources of light and warmth), and a rough-hewn bed on which he lay, there was nothing else.
- Not luxury, but it doesn't exactly resemble a prison cell either, – the young man thought. – So… they brought me to their castle?
This thought invoked highly contradictory feelings.
On one hand, he was still alive, which was certainly pleasing, and technically speaking, Emiya had achieved his goal… albeit through such a radical means.
However, this worked both ways.
He could not forget that he had fought his way here, killing a dozen of the local inhabitants. Not to mention, Shirou had engaged in battle with their leader and lost, which clearly didn't earn him any respect in the eyes of the assassins.
In other words, they might have spared him because death would have been too merciful of an outcome.
— Time doesn't make it easier… – he whispered.
Attempting to rise sent a horrid pain through him. Shiro had no idea how long he had been there, but certainly long enough for his body to become numb from lack of movement. To make matters worse, the wounds he sustained in battle didn't make this task any easier.
— Nevertheless, I should be grateful that I'm even alive, – he muttered wryly, feeling another painful jab in his chest that nearly sent him crashing back onto the bed.
The leader of the assassins had practically torn his entire chest open, and the dagger strike should have ended his life.
Yet here he was, still breathing...
- Let's see how long that lasts… – he concluded grimly, not expecting a favorable outcome.
And fate did not keep him waiting…
The door to the room creaked open, letting in a cool breeze. Three figures entered: one was short, wrapped from head to toe in a dark cloak with a skull mask, and the other two were ordinary guards, as far as Shiro could tell from their attire and the weapons hanging from their belts.
— Hmm… you still breathe… – the assassin spoke slowly. – What a pity…
— Sorry, such pleasure is beyond your means, – Emiya replied, forcing a smirk.
Even though he was on enemy territory, weakened, and could be killed at any moment, he couldn't allow them to see him as defeated and weak. Even if his life were to end here, he would leave with dignity.
— Since you're on your feet, you can walk… great, we won't have to drag you, – the assassin said with venom in his voice. – The Master commanded us to bring you as soon as you regained consciousness. So let's go.
— Isn't this escort a bit excessive? – Shirou asked, glancing at the two silent guards.
— We don't need surprises.
— You're in your castle, and you fear a wounded, unarmed man? – Emiya added with undisguised irony.
— A cornered rat can bite hard, – the assassin snorted in response. – Now shut up and move...
Deciding that further dialogue might not end well, Shiro took a deep breath to collect his thoughts, clenched his teeth, and slowly followed behind him.
***
Shirou had no idea how long they had been walking, as all the hallways of the citadel looked alike, and there wasn't much time to admire the surroundings. They repeatedly encountered other assassins, who respectfully parted for their unusual procession. Nevertheless, Emiya could feel their gazes like a physical presence, most of them wishing him a painful death.
After several more minutes of walking, they found themselves before wide doors. The assassin knocked politely and only then opened them.
— Enter, – he said, inviting him in with a gesture.
The guards remained at the entrance, allowing Shiro and his escort to enter the room.
Once inside, Emiya found himself in a rather spacious hall that was well illuminated. The decor, however, resembled more the chambers of a philosopher or scholar than that of the leader of an assassin sect: shelves filled with heavy tomes and scrolls lined the walls. The gaps between them were covered with tapestries depicting various religious scenes. Across from the door stood a large table literally piled with books, maps, various records, and all that Shiro couldn't identify.
In the wall hovering over the table was a large stained glass window, beside which stood the Elder from the Mountain, facing away from the guests.
— My lord, we have brought him as you ordered, – the assassin reported, bowing respectfully.
— Wonderful… thank you, Hanam, – he replied without turning to them. – Now leave us and wait outside…
— As you wish, – the assassin acquiesced and disappeared behind the massive doors.
A heavy silence fell in the room, broken only by the sound of the fire dancing in the braziers. It seemed that the light they cast became dimmer, and the shadows around them grew even darker. Though there was no hint of a draft here, Shiro felt an unexplainable cold beginning to seep into his bones.
The leader of the assassins clearly had no intention of initiating conversation, as if testing the young man's resilience. But Emiya was not eager to break the strange silence that hung between them. Even though this man had nearly killed him, Shirou could not help but acknowledge his strength.
- Perhaps this is what they call respect for an opponent… – he thought, gazing at the Elder frozen by the window.
The young man had no idea how long this lasted before the leader of the assassins finally spoke:
— And what is it like? To return to the realm of the living? – he asked, still facing away from him.
— To be honest, I'm not entirely sure I'm alive, – Shiro replied, either joking or seriously.
— That assertion is much wiser than it may seem at first blush…
— You killed me…
— I merely showed you what you so longed to see. And you fell asleep… slept the sleep of the dead, the sleep of an infant in the womb… and upon awakening, you were reborn, – he said with grim solemnity, turning towards the young man.
— Why?
— Would you have preferred that I made a different decision? – the Elder asked hoarsely, and Shiro immediately bit his tongue, realizing that he had asked an unnecessary question.
— For everything you have done, I really could have, or rather, should have killed you. Many in my position would have done exactly that. Your life for the lives of my people... – he continued slowly, emphasizing each phrase.
— But you thought otherwise...
— Hmpf, of course. Do you really think that your life is worth more than all those you have taken? – the assassin asked coldly. – Truly, there is no limit to human arrogance... the life of one person is worth exactly as much as the life of another... no more, but also no less. You truly deserve punishment for your deeds, but your death will change nothing and no one will be brought back.
— Please don't take this as insolence, but you don't seem particularly saddened by the death of your people, – Emiya remarked, fully aware of how risky this was.
— That's true, – Hassan replied quite calmly, which genuinely surprised Shiro. – It's sad, but perhaps it's for the best. If a person cannot protect the place they call home, then they do not deserve it. If they couldn't defend their home, succumbing to some rabid pup, then it is their personal fault for showing weakness. And they paid the appropriate price for it... but enough of this! As I said, it would have been simpler and more logical just to kill you, but... that would only waste time and, most importantly, your talent.
— My talent?
— The talent for killing. The talent for survival. The talent of an assassin.
— You... you want me?.. After all this?.. – Shirou couldn't contain his surprise, stammering question after question.
— Don't ask inappropriate questions, – the assassin's eyes flashed dangerously. – And don't forget... from the moment my blade pierced your chest, your life belongs to me. I am simply giving you a chance to earn it back and atone for your sins...
— You place too much trust in me, – the young man replied doubtfully, searching for a trap in his words.
— Yes, perhaps. But I am more than certain you won't disappoint me...
— How so?
— Yes... because it is in your interest. Considering how many corpses you left behind just to get here... after all, you seek the knowledge that I possess, which means you must earn my trust.
It was hard for Shirou to disagree, as his goal was still unfulfilled. he had only taken the first step towards achieving it. And clearly, there would be many such steps; Emiya had no doubt about that. The young man had to give credit to the leader of the assassins—he understood perfectly that for Shirou to flee would be meaningless, for then he would not only not achieve his desire but would also forever cut off his path to it.
— So, you want me to become one of you? A Hashashin? – he asked after a brief contemplation.
— "One of you"... just listen to him… do you think that the skill to cut throats gives you any understanding of who we are and what we strive for? – Hassan asked with slight irritation. – Our path leads to peace in all things, even if it passes through Death. To peace in all, and first and foremost within oneself. But you, child, have not found inner peace. It is reflected in your arrogance and recklessness!
— ...As you say, – Emiya replied. – This isn't a proposition someone turns down, is it?
— "Proposition?" – Shirou thought he detected a mocking tone in his voice. – A proposition implies the possibility of refusal... do you really think you have that option?
The young man had no response to this, as the question was clearly rhetorical.
— Yes... exactly, – the assassin nodded in satisfaction. – That is precisely what I was aiming for from you — a simple display of humility. It's unfortunate that to comprehend this, you had to die and rise from the dead.
— So what exactly do you want from me? To take someone's life?
— No. At least, not for now. For starters, you will become a pupil — a simple person without a name and past. Just like those who come to me. Whatever brought you here, leave it behind. The knowledge you desire, like any other, has power, but also a price. And only time will tell if you are worthy of the first and ready to give up the second... Speaking of the past... tell me your name.
— Shirou... Emiya Shirou, – he answered without evasion.
— Shirou... I see. Hanam! – the Elder shouted.
The doors swung open, allowing the assassin to enter the room.
— You called, my lord? – he asked, freezing at the entrance.
— Yes. I have made a decision and want you to convey it to the others... – said his master, then paused before continuing. – The man who came to our home and brought death... is dead. The one who now stands before you is your new brother. A brother who regrets his deeds and is ready to atone for his sins. From this moment you are responsible for him. I place this upon your shoulders; I hope you won't let me down... Do you understand everything?
— Yes, my lord, – Hanam gritted through his teeth, clearly unhappy with the news.
— As for you... – the leader of the assassins turned back to Shiro. – You heard everything. Your past life ended with the strike of my blade. Emiya Shirou is dead... from this moment your new name will be... – he paused for a moment before saying. – ...Rashid.
— Cruel irony... – Shirou heard Hanam whisper.
— That is all. When the time comes, I will summon you, – said Old Man, turning to the window, signaling that the conversation was over.
— Let's go, – Hanam said coldly, waving him away.
Just before the door, Shirou stopped and turned back to the master of the room for a moment.
— May I ask one question? – he addressed him.
— It depends on the content...
— My name... what does it mean?
For a moment, Emiya thought he heard a chuckle escaping His lips but only for a moment...
— You are finally starting to ask the right questions... – the Elder said with satisfaction. – But the answer to this riddle is something you must discover for yourself...