Pulled from standby because *koff**koff* Umm ... blocked on MS. Again. Sorry. *ahem*
Editsu-ed, mostly to account for the 'lack of Avalon' I hadn't really parsed from the game's synopsis of 'Fate'.
- simple explanation as to why Shiro's still got his 'youthful good looks'? I've applied the principle of Contagion to Type-Moon's world's workings. Shiro's spent a fairly long time 'hosting' and using a magical artifact of a power rating that was, quite frankly, through the roof. Even after its removal, the Magic Circuits in his body remained irrevokably altered to reflect that.
---
Everything is.
Everything was.
Everything can and will be.
So why not ...?
---
Fate/Split Daybreak
01: No Armor Against
a Fate/Stay Night AU/continuation
idea and cooperation by ordnance11
written by Griever
Copyright 2006(c)
---
'The much valued beauty, the subtle cut, of a truly perfect gemstone. Light, reflected by its facets, splitting off into paths ad infinitum, each similar yet not the same as the others. The universe, this wondrous and horrific place we live in, can surely be likened to a gemstone. A myriad of reflections, an infinite number of possibilities, and each such reflection a world. Each subtle tremor of the light, each particle of it, a human being.
That, of course, is simplifying things, but there are some truths an unprepared mind is simply not capable of perceiving. For all its adaptability, the human mind is seldom prepared.
Hence, the need to a medium. A physical, somewhat simpler interpretation that lets a theory actually be usable, and not just look pretty.
It could have been anything, really. Still ... there's a certain something to a gemstone, don't you think?'
-attributed to Zelretch, the first Jewel Mage
In the grand tradition of cliches, it was raining. A soggy, cloudy afternoon in London. One you'd be hard pressed to chase a dog out into.
It fit the mood.
Fit it all too well.
Symbols.
So many things about their lives were ultimately about symbols. The most important among them.
It rushed through her like a particularly loud heartbeat, making nerves tingle as it spread outwards, momentarily seeming to shift things without actually doing so.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" the voice asked, its owner's head cocked to one side. It was both entirely too familiar, and entirely too foreign a motion for said person to make.
It made her shiver and pull the collar of her coat - its designer label leather slick with rainwater - up in an ultimately futile gesture.
"Old?" she asked, even as the energies of the Kekkai settled around them, shifting the surrounding area subtly out of phase with the Reality that Was.
"Heh. If you want to get technical about it," he shrugged, oblivious to the rain.
Not a day.
It wasn't unheard of for Mages to slow their own aging. She herself didn't look a day over twenty, and would likely still look that way for decades to come.
He hadn't aged a day since she'd last seen him. Though she wouldn't admit it, it made things ... somewhat difficult. And not merely because the 'how' of that brought forth all sorts of interesting implications.
But then again, she was an accomplished Magi. 'Difficult' wasn't bad enough for her to lose any sleep over.
"I'm sorry about this," she shook her head. "You know the Association has been looking for you for the past several years. Ever since you ..."
"... disappeared? I figured as much. I had, no, I have my reasons, Tohsaka."
"You could have just stayed where you were, Shiro," Tohsaka Rin of the Mages' Association said. "Kept your head down, and they wouldn't have bothered to send anyone. Whatever you're doing, it's pointless. Just making yourself more of a target!"
"They've designated me to be Sealed?" he shrugged, then chuckled, looking unconcerned. The feeling of unreality that Rin had been experiencing since she'd first seen him, standing in front of the British Museum, the front of the main headquarters of the Association, the so called 'Clock Tower', increased. It wasn't like seeing only Emiya Shiro. It was ... like seeing both him and someone else overlaid on top of that.
"I don't want to fight you."
"My sentiment exactly, but sometimes we don't have that choice ... now do we? Sometimes fighting is inevitable," he retorted. "Isn't that what you tried to prove to me during the War?"
The Grail War. It seemed like something so small, so far away ... despite the gravity of the events that had transpired during the whole thing. Had they really gone through all that only to end up like this?
"I'm sorry," Rin said, steeling herself even as she began gathering energy, the Circuits in her body activating and starting to channel it.
Dolche der Vergeltung released the energy, guiding it along well worn paths and calling jeweled daggers into the Reality around her. Each of them razor sharp, their points towards Emiya Shiro's body.
"I know," he gave her the ghost of a smirk, hauntingly familiar. "I've learned a few things as well."
For a moment, she was assailed by feelings of Deja Vu. She knew, instinctively, that she'd felt that energy before. The way it moved, the way it shaped itself, the ripples of Reality that it sent outwards.
Something had always nagged her about Shiro, about what he could do, but she'd never been able to put a finger on it.
Now though?
The two short swords, wide bladed and heavy looking, yet wielded with such seemingly casual ease. The stance. The smirk. Younger looking, yes. But otherwise ...
"I'm sorry too, Rin. I won't take it easy on you. I am ..." he tensed. On instinct, she let the Dolche fly.
Shiro moved.
Jewel shards littered the air moments later, even as raindrops were flung ever-which way by the storm of motion the man in a boy's body had exploded into. Every move, every strike, every mannerism in that fight ...
... it was so obvious.
"A ... Archer?"
The younger mirror image of her summoned Servant during the Grail War. Down to the weapons and skills.
Then he gave her a sad sort of look, and spoke, even as she felt the Circuits in his body flare into life with an intensity she'd last felt at the apex of the War such a long time ago. Even if this time the way the energy flowed was different.
"I am the bone of my sword."
***
"It's ironic, you know," the voice greeted her as she woke, her body hurting but still very much alive.
Her eyes snapped open, only to see ...
... one of the Association's Vaults, warded titanium door hanging from its supports, torn open.
Dust hung thick in the air, the smell of fire and rubble bringing back old memories.
She could see Shiro standing in the middle of the otherwise demolished Vault, in front of a dais. His clothes - jeans, leather jacket, sweatshirt ... he hadn't changed his taste in those, at least - torn and ragged. Bloodied in places. Flesh cleanly visible beneath the tears, unblemished.
"What is?" she asked, forcing herself to sit up and making a quick assessment of her body. She'd felt every single cut that the endless blades had inflicted upon her, but somehow, all that was left were bruises.
"I went to Atlas, broke into the Lost Library of Alexandria, looked up old wives' tales and rumors ..." he turned to face her. "... and what I'd been looking for? It was right in front of my nose. Had been there since before the War. The notes of your ancestors, in fact, in your old home back in Fuyuki. The infinite reflections in the face of a gemstone."
In his hands was ... now she recognized it, and the vault ... the gem which the first of her ancestors who'd learned Jewel Magic had crafted.
"You can't be serious," she protested. "The way to use that is a lost Art! There's nobody left alive who knows how to do it."
"Outside of you, maybe," he said. "I've kept up with you, Rin. I've seen you go through those notes, I've seen you try and recreate the sword of the person who taught your ancestor Jewel Magic. It was hard to miss. After all, it's what got you your position in the Association."
"You want the sword? Is that why you're doing this? For the power? The Emiya Shiro I knew wouldn't ..."
"I could care less about the sword or the gem," he glared at her. "Zelretch postulated his infinite number of worlds. Reflections of Reality as Is. Everything being now, and Now being all-encompassing. I just want one thing, Rin. For old times' sake. I need your _help_ to keep a promise I made."
***
Tohsaka Rin, one of the elite of the Mages' Association, stood in the rain.
The news would label it a terrorist attack. The Association ... well, she had enough influence that she'd be believed if she sprouted something about an unknown attacker and having to resort to her ancestors' gem to vanquish them.
She'd gone from the ruined British Museum moments before the Kekkai failed, weaving a minor spell of avoidance around herself with the remaining Odo she still had.
Emiya Shiro.
She shook her head, half incredulous, half wistful.
He really didn't fit into the webs of intrigue of the Association or their competitors. Too principled. Too straight-forward. Too ... loyal.
A promise, indeed.
For all the changes, for all the revelations ... there was something about him that made sure she couldn't not help him when asked.
Something ...
... something ...
... well, it was gone now. Along with the man in a boy's body himself.
Gone into a facet. Into a reflection. Into a Reality that Was, riding the tether of Fate.
Everything she'd learned, everything she'd believed, told her Fate simply was. Without a way to alter it.
There was no armor against Fate. She'd told him that much ...
... told. Told. She'd just about begged him not to try and change it. It was, she almost smiled, still about as useful as arguing with a brick wall. Damnable, mule-headed, feeble-minded crusader-wannabe ...
No armor against Fate.
But armor ... it's not the way, Tohsaka. Armor only lets you endure. I want to split it. Break it. Shatter it into pieces. And for that, armor is useless.
He was right, she realized.
For that, armor _was_ useless.
For that, one needed a weapon.
And where weapons were concerned ...
I am the bone of my sword.
Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.
I have created over a thousand blades.
Unaware of loss.
Nor aware of gain.
Withstood pain to create many weapons.
Waiting for one's arrival.
I have no regrets.
This is the only path.
My whole life was ... Unlimited Blade Works.
The rain fell, drenching her as she watched the police secure the area. It was inconsequential.
It was just rain, after all.
No matter how much the water felt like tears as it ran down her cheeks.
Good luck, Shiro-kun.
---
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
Editsu-ed, mostly to account for the 'lack of Avalon' I hadn't really parsed from the game's synopsis of 'Fate'.
- simple explanation as to why Shiro's still got his 'youthful good looks'? I've applied the principle of Contagion to Type-Moon's world's workings. Shiro's spent a fairly long time 'hosting' and using a magical artifact of a power rating that was, quite frankly, through the roof. Even after its removal, the Magic Circuits in his body remained irrevokably altered to reflect that.
---
Everything is.
Everything was.
Everything can and will be.
So why not ...?
---
Fate/Split Daybreak
01: No Armor Against
a Fate/Stay Night AU/continuation
idea and cooperation by ordnance11
written by Griever
Copyright 2006(c)
---
'The much valued beauty, the subtle cut, of a truly perfect gemstone. Light, reflected by its facets, splitting off into paths ad infinitum, each similar yet not the same as the others. The universe, this wondrous and horrific place we live in, can surely be likened to a gemstone. A myriad of reflections, an infinite number of possibilities, and each such reflection a world. Each subtle tremor of the light, each particle of it, a human being.
That, of course, is simplifying things, but there are some truths an unprepared mind is simply not capable of perceiving. For all its adaptability, the human mind is seldom prepared.
Hence, the need to a medium. A physical, somewhat simpler interpretation that lets a theory actually be usable, and not just look pretty.
It could have been anything, really. Still ... there's a certain something to a gemstone, don't you think?'
-attributed to Zelretch, the first Jewel Mage
In the grand tradition of cliches, it was raining. A soggy, cloudy afternoon in London. One you'd be hard pressed to chase a dog out into.
It fit the mood.
Fit it all too well.
Symbols.
So many things about their lives were ultimately about symbols. The most important among them.
It rushed through her like a particularly loud heartbeat, making nerves tingle as it spread outwards, momentarily seeming to shift things without actually doing so.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" the voice asked, its owner's head cocked to one side. It was both entirely too familiar, and entirely too foreign a motion for said person to make.
It made her shiver and pull the collar of her coat - its designer label leather slick with rainwater - up in an ultimately futile gesture.
"Old?" she asked, even as the energies of the Kekkai settled around them, shifting the surrounding area subtly out of phase with the Reality that Was.
"Heh. If you want to get technical about it," he shrugged, oblivious to the rain.
Not a day.
It wasn't unheard of for Mages to slow their own aging. She herself didn't look a day over twenty, and would likely still look that way for decades to come.
He hadn't aged a day since she'd last seen him. Though she wouldn't admit it, it made things ... somewhat difficult. And not merely because the 'how' of that brought forth all sorts of interesting implications.
But then again, she was an accomplished Magi. 'Difficult' wasn't bad enough for her to lose any sleep over.
"I'm sorry about this," she shook her head. "You know the Association has been looking for you for the past several years. Ever since you ..."
"... disappeared? I figured as much. I had, no, I have my reasons, Tohsaka."
"You could have just stayed where you were, Shiro," Tohsaka Rin of the Mages' Association said. "Kept your head down, and they wouldn't have bothered to send anyone. Whatever you're doing, it's pointless. Just making yourself more of a target!"
"They've designated me to be Sealed?" he shrugged, then chuckled, looking unconcerned. The feeling of unreality that Rin had been experiencing since she'd first seen him, standing in front of the British Museum, the front of the main headquarters of the Association, the so called 'Clock Tower', increased. It wasn't like seeing only Emiya Shiro. It was ... like seeing both him and someone else overlaid on top of that.
"I don't want to fight you."
"My sentiment exactly, but sometimes we don't have that choice ... now do we? Sometimes fighting is inevitable," he retorted. "Isn't that what you tried to prove to me during the War?"
The Grail War. It seemed like something so small, so far away ... despite the gravity of the events that had transpired during the whole thing. Had they really gone through all that only to end up like this?
"I'm sorry," Rin said, steeling herself even as she began gathering energy, the Circuits in her body activating and starting to channel it.
Dolche der Vergeltung released the energy, guiding it along well worn paths and calling jeweled daggers into the Reality around her. Each of them razor sharp, their points towards Emiya Shiro's body.
"I know," he gave her the ghost of a smirk, hauntingly familiar. "I've learned a few things as well."
For a moment, she was assailed by feelings of Deja Vu. She knew, instinctively, that she'd felt that energy before. The way it moved, the way it shaped itself, the ripples of Reality that it sent outwards.
Something had always nagged her about Shiro, about what he could do, but she'd never been able to put a finger on it.
Now though?
The two short swords, wide bladed and heavy looking, yet wielded with such seemingly casual ease. The stance. The smirk. Younger looking, yes. But otherwise ...
"I'm sorry too, Rin. I won't take it easy on you. I am ..." he tensed. On instinct, she let the Dolche fly.
Shiro moved.
Jewel shards littered the air moments later, even as raindrops were flung ever-which way by the storm of motion the man in a boy's body had exploded into. Every move, every strike, every mannerism in that fight ...
... it was so obvious.
"A ... Archer?"
The younger mirror image of her summoned Servant during the Grail War. Down to the weapons and skills.
Then he gave her a sad sort of look, and spoke, even as she felt the Circuits in his body flare into life with an intensity she'd last felt at the apex of the War such a long time ago. Even if this time the way the energy flowed was different.
"I am the bone of my sword."
***
"It's ironic, you know," the voice greeted her as she woke, her body hurting but still very much alive.
Her eyes snapped open, only to see ...
... one of the Association's Vaults, warded titanium door hanging from its supports, torn open.
Dust hung thick in the air, the smell of fire and rubble bringing back old memories.
She could see Shiro standing in the middle of the otherwise demolished Vault, in front of a dais. His clothes - jeans, leather jacket, sweatshirt ... he hadn't changed his taste in those, at least - torn and ragged. Bloodied in places. Flesh cleanly visible beneath the tears, unblemished.
"What is?" she asked, forcing herself to sit up and making a quick assessment of her body. She'd felt every single cut that the endless blades had inflicted upon her, but somehow, all that was left were bruises.
"I went to Atlas, broke into the Lost Library of Alexandria, looked up old wives' tales and rumors ..." he turned to face her. "... and what I'd been looking for? It was right in front of my nose. Had been there since before the War. The notes of your ancestors, in fact, in your old home back in Fuyuki. The infinite reflections in the face of a gemstone."
In his hands was ... now she recognized it, and the vault ... the gem which the first of her ancestors who'd learned Jewel Magic had crafted.
"You can't be serious," she protested. "The way to use that is a lost Art! There's nobody left alive who knows how to do it."
"Outside of you, maybe," he said. "I've kept up with you, Rin. I've seen you go through those notes, I've seen you try and recreate the sword of the person who taught your ancestor Jewel Magic. It was hard to miss. After all, it's what got you your position in the Association."
"You want the sword? Is that why you're doing this? For the power? The Emiya Shiro I knew wouldn't ..."
"I could care less about the sword or the gem," he glared at her. "Zelretch postulated his infinite number of worlds. Reflections of Reality as Is. Everything being now, and Now being all-encompassing. I just want one thing, Rin. For old times' sake. I need your _help_ to keep a promise I made."
***
Tohsaka Rin, one of the elite of the Mages' Association, stood in the rain.
The news would label it a terrorist attack. The Association ... well, she had enough influence that she'd be believed if she sprouted something about an unknown attacker and having to resort to her ancestors' gem to vanquish them.
She'd gone from the ruined British Museum moments before the Kekkai failed, weaving a minor spell of avoidance around herself with the remaining Odo she still had.
Emiya Shiro.
She shook her head, half incredulous, half wistful.
He really didn't fit into the webs of intrigue of the Association or their competitors. Too principled. Too straight-forward. Too ... loyal.
A promise, indeed.
For all the changes, for all the revelations ... there was something about him that made sure she couldn't not help him when asked.
Something ...
... something ...
... well, it was gone now. Along with the man in a boy's body himself.
Gone into a facet. Into a reflection. Into a Reality that Was, riding the tether of Fate.
Everything she'd learned, everything she'd believed, told her Fate simply was. Without a way to alter it.
There was no armor against Fate. She'd told him that much ...
... told. Told. She'd just about begged him not to try and change it. It was, she almost smiled, still about as useful as arguing with a brick wall. Damnable, mule-headed, feeble-minded crusader-wannabe ...
No armor against Fate.
But armor ... it's not the way, Tohsaka. Armor only lets you endure. I want to split it. Break it. Shatter it into pieces. And for that, armor is useless.
He was right, she realized.
For that, armor _was_ useless.
For that, one needed a weapon.
And where weapons were concerned ...
I am the bone of my sword.
Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.
I have created over a thousand blades.
Unaware of loss.
Nor aware of gain.
Withstood pain to create many weapons.
Waiting for one's arrival.
I have no regrets.
This is the only path.
My whole life was ... Unlimited Blade Works.
The rain fell, drenching her as she watched the police secure the area. It was inconsequential.
It was just rain, after all.
No matter how much the water felt like tears as it ran down her cheeks.
Good luck, Shiro-kun.
---
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
![[Image: happy.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/happy.gif)
_______________________________![[Image: Bansho.jpg]](http://www.animecubed.com/billy/pics/sigs/Bansho.jpg)