Hello and thank you for taking the time to open this up. This story was spawned thanks to a thought experiment that happened in the Beasts Lair. The result? Klaeido Shirou.

I will be posting the snippets made by my co-author and myself here, as well as any other snippets made by anyone else, as long as I get permission from the author. I recommend going to BL and visiting the thread for a more thorough explanation of how Shirou's personalities and ideals changed, as well as a much more thorough explanation of how his abilities work.

I will post a quick version of his powers at the end of the prologue.

As for the necessary disclaimers. Neither Ilurk nor I own Fate/Stay Night (even if we very much wish we did), nor do we own anything this will be crossed over with...we own nothing...nothing at all (TTwTT)

This prologue was written by ILurkNoMoar of the Beasts Lair.

Now, On With The Show!

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Among the blighted remains of the streets near Shinto, a young redheaded boy wandered aimlessly through the smoldering wreckage that had once been his home. One could honestly say that the fire had burned away his life as the flames charred his flesh. His family and friends were dead, his home destroyed and with every passing moment, the memories of his past eclipsed by the numbing pain of his surroundings as his mind went blank.

The cries of the countless dead or dying calling out for a miracle, praying so desperately for someone to save them. He heard them as they called to him, pleas to drag them to safety as well as their desire for him to join them so they wouldn't die alone. But he persisted, blindly walking away from them as he tried to escape the blaze.

Each breath come to him harder as the smog ridden air filled his lungs and the feeling of smoke and ashes burning him from the inside. It had seemed like hours; "one step after another", "just a little further", were the only thoughts that he had in his mind. But, he was only human and it was only a matter of time before his body failed his spirit. A few seconds later his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. He continued on, oblivious to the pain from his limbs as he crawled, defying his inevitable fate. He refused to accept it; to die without having fulfilled a purpose, without anyone to remember him, without even something as simple as a name.

When he finally collapsed, all he could see was a sky obscured by a thick haze formed from embers and wisps of black smog. As he lay there all he could think to do was pray, that someone would save him after having forsaken so many people himself. In many worlds this boy would look up to see a man with a shaggy mop of hair covered in blood, as he cried tears to joy that he could save even a single person from this disaster of his making. In others it was a stoic priest who reveled in others misery, or occasional apparition of a tainted king with golden eyes.

But here something different happened, through the infinite reflections of the Kaleidoscope was its master. Having arrived here by chance on nothing more than a whim, the crimson eyes of an elderly man looked down at a boy whose fate was totally in his hands. After a moment something sparked in his mind, gloved hands came up to stroke his beard as he contemplated an unspoken idea. He had lost so many apprentices to madness, the brightest minds of their generation broken before the might of the second magic.

"Tell me boy, do you want to live?" he said, perhaps the answer wasn't to take the best and the brightest who were already set in their ways. Desperate to claim any power and prestige they could get their hands on.

The boy nodded, wanting nothing more than to live, no matter the cost he would have to pay.

"Then you will become my apprentice, learn everything I have to teach you and follow my instructions to the letter." Yes, perhaps the answer was not to take the best the association had to offer. Maybe it was to create his successor himself, to mold him so his mind wouldn't break under the stress. Yes, this could be a very good idea or at least an interesting diversion.

There was another nod.

"So be it." and having said his piece, he withdrew an unusual short sword made of jewels. The blade's facets shined with a myriad of rainbow colored lights as the robed man pressed it against his new protégés chest, then everything disappeared in a flash of light as it melded with the boy. It wasn't until after he was unconscious that Zelretch realized they never exchanged names... Well, there will be time for formalities later.

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This story is meant to detail the childhood, and later life experiences of a Shirou as raised by the wizard marshall Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg.

As Shirou was "raised" by Zelretch, he would have been thrown into the multiverse by his adoptive father with reckless abandon at a young age. So any series is possible, Shirou could literally show up anywhere with only his wits and Kaleidosword to protect him. Although, being the brother code to the Kaleidosticks, the sword would likely send him wherever it most amused it, though not where it thought he would be in any physical danger, at first at least. Terrible mental scaring lasting for the rest of his life on the other hand...

These will be the misadventures of a Shirou raised by Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, Master of the Second Magic.

The snippets posted here will range from light-hearted fluff, to action, to the occasional grimness, to comedy, and more.