The moon was high in the sky, its silver light bathing the backyard in a soft glow. Shirou stood on the porch, staring at the ceremonial sword fragment resting in his hands. The faint warmth he had felt earlier had returned, stronger now, as if the fragment was responding to something unseen.
He turned it over, tracing the intricate patterns etched into the metal. In the pale light, the markings seemed to shift subtly, like ripples across a still pond.
"What are you?" he murmured.
The fragment remained silent, of course, but the sensation of something stirring deep within it lingered. Shirou couldn't explain it, but he felt as though the fragment was alive in some strange way not like a person, but like a memory preserved in metal.
He tightened his grip on the fragment, the faint edges of the dream still gnawing at the back of his mind. He could remember the figure's eyes, burning bright and unyielding, and the weight of their voice.
"Prove it."
The words echoed again, louder this time, and Shirou's chest tightened.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the yard, rustling the leaves and making Shirou shiver. He looked up, his gaze drawn to the sky. The stars above seemed brighter than usual, their light pulsing faintly in the darkness.
The wind picked up again, stronger now, carrying with it a strange hum. It wasn't loud, but it resonated in Shirou's ears, low and insistent.
He stepped off the porch, his bare feet sinking into the cool grass. The sword fragment felt hot against his palm, the patterns on its surface glowing faintly in the moonlight.
"What's happening?" Shirou whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum.
The wind swirled around him, and the hum grew louder, blending with the rustling of the leaves to create a strange, otherworldly harmony. Shirou's heart pounded in his chest, and he took a step back, clutching the fragment tightly.
Then, the stars shifted.
It wasn't a subtle change. The constellations themselves seemed to rearrange, their light bending and twisting to form a new pattern. A circle of light began to take shape in the sky, its edges glowing with a faint blue hue.
Shirou stared in awe and fear, his breath catching in his throat.
The circle grew brighter, its center filling with a swirling light that pulsed in time with the hum. Shirou felt his knees grow weak, and he dropped to the ground, the fragment clutched tightly in his hand.
From the circle, a voice rang out—not loud, but impossibly clear, resonating in his very bones.
"The heavens are watching, child."
The voice was deep and commanding, and Shirou's body froze at the sound of it.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice trembling.
There was no immediate response. The light from the circle intensified, casting long shadows across the yard. The patterns on the sword fragment began to glow brightly, their intricate designs pulsing in time with the circle above.
"You carry the weight of a vow you do not yet understand," the voice continued. "But the heavens have heard you. And they will test you."
Shirou's mind raced, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and fear. "Test me? What do you mean?"
The light in the circle shifted, forming vague shapes that Shirou couldn't quite make out. The wind around him grew stronger, whipping at his hair and clothes.
"The path you seek is not an easy one," the voice said. "You will face trials that will break lesser men. But if you wish to honor your vow, you must endure. Prove your resolve, Shirou Emiya."
The mention of his name sent a shock through him, and he staggered to his feet. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"
The light in the circle flared one final time, and for a brief moment, Shirou thought he saw a figure standing at its center. Their form was indistinct, shrouded in swirling light, but their presence was undeniable.
"You will know when the time comes" the voice said, growing fainter. "Until then, remember: the heavens do not grant strength freely. You must earn it."
The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and the wind died down, leaving the yard eerily quiet. Shirou stood there, his body trembling, as the stars above returned to their normal stillness.
He looked down at the sword fragment in his hand. The glow had faded, leaving it cold and inert once more. But the faint warmth it had carried earlier lingered, a quiet reminder of what had just happened.
Shirou's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all. The voice, the light, the shifting stars none of it seemed possible, yet it had felt more real than any dream.
He clenched his fists, his grip tightening around the fragment. Whatever had just happened, one thing was clear: the vow he had made under the stars was not something he could take lightly.
Shirou returned to the house, his steps slow and deliberate. As he climbed into bed, his thoughts were consumed by the voice's final words:
"You must earn it."
Far above, the stars pulsed faintly, their light steady and unyielding.