Nightmare Mandala

Under the light of a full moon the hunter stalked the quivering prey with iron-bound bow in hand. Reaching for the bowstring an arrow of silvery light formed, knocked and ready to be drawn. With practiced ease the hunter drew back the string. An errant stream of moonlight passed over the quivering prey, revealing the bleeding woman. Her dirty white clothes were stained with blood from numerous mystical arrows left her quivering as scarlet lifeblood spilled onto the forest floor, a dark stain on the forest floor. In vain she tried to stop the bleeding, holding the worst of the wounds to her stomach, as she sought the strength to run once more.

The hunter held his breath as he adjusted his target. This was the end. The hunt would end here. The prey had been run down, wounded and all that remained was the kill. An end he would not change, a worthy end for the pride of the hunter and the prey. Here at the end she was exhausted, her magic drained, her blood leaving her, and her time drawing near. With a single motion he would end the hunt that had taken days, a mission without a chance for failure for he was the master hunter. Nothing escaped his hawk like eyes.

She moaned in pain, mumbling others words that sounded vaguely like a hopeless plea for mercy. Mercy now was granting her a swift death rather than leaving her to bleed out slowly. This was the only mercy he could offer, the only one his pride would accept. Let none suffer long by my hand, he chanted in his mind the mantra that defined his existence, release my prey from pain in death for I am swift Death's aid. She moaned in pain again and began to kneel over.

It was time.

As she fell, body rocking in pain and tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, he released the string. The arrow caught her throat perfectly, severing the trachea and spine. The light of life was gone from her eyes before she hit the ground. A clean shot to end a hunt, the gift of the hunter to the prey had been given and received.

The hunter lowered the bow and stood, brushing off the bits of brush with the back of his leather gloved hand. Fearing no reprisal he stepped into the blood soak clearing. "It is done," he intoned as he gazed upon his latest fallen prey, burning every line and shape into his memory. Never had he lost his quarry, never had his prey received any mercy but the gift of the hunter. No matter what they offered him, for he possessed everything he could own save the one thing mortals could never give.

"Take them and let us be done here."

The voice came from the darkness were he knew nothing waited. The owner was far beyond the distant lands, beyond the space which mortal minds would never comprehend and it spoke the truth. His task was not yet done. Kneeling beside the body he drew his hunting knife, a massive jagged edge knife meant for survival, and grabbed the woman's blonde hair to pull the body up. With his knife he slashed the eyes, once horizontally, once vertically then dropped the knife. The blood flowed from the incisions and he placed his index finger into the left eye, popping the delicate organ with ease and leaving his finger coated in blood and other fluids.

Quickly he began to draw the runic array on the forehead with his bloody fingers. Within a minute the complex array of runes in concentric circles was ready. He dragged the body against the tree and, after wiping his knife clear on her robes out of habit, he stood back to admire his prey. Had he still been human he might have found her form perfect; killing her waste of a perfect body for her white robe bore the dirt, blood and tears of the forest pursuit hardly covered her sex organs. In another life he might have mounted her like he had in his time as a human before killing her, but not now. She was a perfect specimen of humanity's females and that made her the good quarry and victim for this vile ritual he took part in.

"The array is ready. This is the last one," he stated to the darkness, his voice strangely even as if this were nothing of great concern or care.

"Hmmm… She'll do. Thank you and your mistress for me."

"Why not do it yourself wizard? You'll be here soon enough and with your ilk." The hunter's dislike of the one who commanded him was clear.

The voice chuckled darkly. "I like living. Seeing your mistress after all our work…I'd be lucky if I'm torn into a billion pieces for all eternity."

"Fine," the hunter replied. He knew the wizard's answer before he had asked. His mistress was not a woman to be trifled with. Then again trifling with a goddess had forced him into this very situation all those eons ago; a pawn of greater powers. "Seven hundred and seventy-seven sacrifices are complete and I am free of you as per the agreement. Now unless you have more business with me, pray let me return to my Wild Hunt."

"Go oh Eternal Hunter! I declare your task fulfilled and the blood price paid," the voice said formally. "Enjoy your hunts and let these dark tasks fade from memory."

"I pray for your health, but I never wish to see you again Wizard Marshall. Fare thee well."

With his piece said the hunter felt the decay set above destroying this mortal shell. The return to his blessed realm had begun. The shell of mortals was no longer needed and his mistress beckoned him home to his dark forest, to his hounds and huntsmen, to his eternal quarry. To return to his ever distant utopia was no painful though the mortal shell felt pain. He was at perfect ease with agony of mortality once more.

Soon he would behold the perfect quarry once more and that flash of perfect pale hair in the darkest forest would greet him once more and forevermore…

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Chapter 1: Beyond

It began not with a flash or a bang, nor a still moment in darkness or amongst a crowd or roar or whisper but as a throb. It was a dull throb in the back of head that began on a warm sunny morning as three mages walked down the flower lined road. None of the three knew why they walked only that they must walk. Rest was not considered even as the already heavy, full body robes were drenched with sweat. There was no stopping under the high sun and richly hued sky.

So the silent company walked.

Behind them came a great company spread in small groups, no larger than five across. All walked onwards, never stopping nor looking aside. All worn the nondescript heavy robes of the vanguard and walked silently. Footfalls on the worm dirt path made no sound, nor were tracks left as the groups passed. No sign remained of the silent company as they passed.

So the silent company walked on.

Time passed and the world remained as it was. Still the sun was high and the sky painted in rich hues of deepest blues and still the company walked in silence without trace of their passing. Time nor space mattered, only that the company keep walking onwards though no option was given for they must walk and look ahead. The flower field began to grow as they walked, though none remarked upon it nor stop to marvel as the flowers grew.

So the silent company walked on in shadow.

On either side, arcing high above heads that never moved, rose massive flowers forming a cathedral to nature, more grand than any work of mortal man that will be or has been. Pillars and columns, alcoves and side chapels, rafts and windows went unnoticed by the silent company. No trace was left in their passing for such a trace would be no less than the greatest heresy in all of creation. None among this company were worthy to gaze upon such a divine realm fit only for the immortals of creation who govern the bodies of creation, even if they could look. Even the summation of their humanity personified was denied access to their realm. Only the way ahead was left to them and silent passage.

So the silent company walked on in the shadow of perfection.

Then came the dark. Deep into the shadows, stretching across endlessly, the company marched on in silence. The dirt path never wavered, always headed onwards even in the darkness. The silent company were cooled by the darkness though they never gazed upon the abyssal shadows were even gods might fear to look for the abyss was not still even in the depths of the darkness. Yet the silent company marched on to beat of the ever-present dull throb never stopping or looking aside.

So the silent company walked on in the shadow of perfection of the abyssal void were all secrets rested.

Then came the end. The path no longer continued. It simply ended as suddenly as it began. All about the end of the path all that remained was darkness. This was not the abyssal darkness of shadows and fear, but the darkness of the void, of the absence of the light yet the company did not remark upon it. They walked on in silence. The three mages at the head of the company took the fateful step off the path, their step never faltering and heads fixed ahead. They vanished. No smoke, nor flash nor any other trace remained of the three and still the company walked on to the end of the path and off the edge.

Till at last none remained to walk upon the dirt path.

And so the silent company was no more.

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The sound of birds, the touch of wet grass against skin and the unfettered gentle breeze against his back told one Shriou Emiya that was most certainly not in the bed he gone to sleep in. That was a problem and a mystery. Unless he was dead. A part of him wondered if the Throne had such a nice breeze. And birds. Heroic spirits of birds past was an option, but a rather silly one. Birds were living things, unless they had souls. Did they? That would explain why he was dead and hearing birds, but not why there was a breeze.

Or the smell of a forest. He sniffed again. The scent of a forest in the middle of spring was a problem. It had been winter when he went to bed. Not only was he awakening on a grassy forest floor to birds and a breeze, but the season had changed. That settled it he was most definitely dead. Of course the question of where he was remained to be answered. If this was the Throne then it might be a pretty nice place. Looking at the place of course would mean opening his eyes, which required that he move which required energy which he was sorely lacking. He felt utterly exhausted and his feet ached like nothing before. It was like he had walked for thousands of miles without stopping while barefoot.

That settled that matter. He was most definitely dead as he would never willingly leave home without a pair of good shoes for the job. Apparently he had also taken up sleep walking or dying drained ones energy greatly. Either way, his entire body hurt. Only by moving could he fully understand his current situation.

With a groan he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes quickly. The light blinded him instantly. An amateur mistake, he should have known better. Slowly the haze from his mind began to clear and he thoughts began to form out of the chaos, the mind honed by Rin into a semi-decent, in her own words, mind of a magus. Did the dead feel pain? There was a question he should ask a Dead Apostle who wasn't trying to snack on him or dissect him sometime.

While his eyes adjusted, he covered them with his hand flopped over his face, he turned inwardly to check his soul. What he found astounded him. All twenty-seven of his natural circuits were firing at full capacity though the prana was only of a low quality. They had healed against all odds. The damage done to them by years of neglect was all but gone. The circuits he had forcibly created on his bodies nerves had changed. The circuits bound to his body, having been weaned off their use over the years by Rin, should have undergone atrophy and rendered useless, but here they were once more functioning exactly like a normal circuit albeit of inferior quality. There was only one reason for that. He was dead and that had healed his circuits. Nothing else could have restored his natural circuits to their new condition.

The question of where remained though. He pushed through the exhaustion, trying to sit up at first then at least he might see anyone coming. With this much prana he doubt he would have any trouble Tracing some of the more powerful swords he had encountered, though his Reality Marble was still out of reach yet still not wholly beyond hope with his circuits restored.

Sitting up was an effort and he wanted nothing more than to flop back on the ground to sleep for a while, but he knew otherwise. No matter where he was, he wasn't safe at the moment. There were too many unanswered questions of importance, namely where he was at the moment. The first step to safety was observing the surroundings and watching them. What he saw around him, as he groaned as his body tried to reject his demands of it, was a small open glade were he had been lying which was surrounded by trees. It was mostly definitely spring were ever here was. The foliage was still coming in, revealing it was mid to early spring and that meant cold nights. Speaking of nights it seemed the shadows were getting longer as he lay there.

At the far side of the glade a shadowy figure lay propped against a tree. It looked vaguely human and a section of fabric was visible. "Trace on." He quickly traced a nameless sword, one of infinite blades seen over the years, and advanced carefully yet quickly. Adjusting his course to take him behind the slumped figure, he slipped through the forest with ease. Treat it as if hunting a Dead Apostle he reminded himself as an errant branch snapped beneath his boot. He froze, listening and waiting for the scent of prana use. When nothing came he rounded the tree and instantly he knew the slumped figure.

The light brown hair and distinctive white coat of one Lorelei Barthomeloi lay slumped beside the tree as if throw against the thick trunk. Shirou let the nameless sword vanish and he knelt beside the Queen of Clock Tower. If something could knock him out it was powerful, if something could knock out the Queen then it was deadly. "Barthomeloi!" he whispered, shaking her shoulder lightly. Chances were he wasn't dead if she was here. She was too powerful to be caught in whatever would kill him one day. There was only one conclusion and it explained nothing, something had happened that didn't involve death, but magecraft unlike anything he had every seen or heard about, but that was irrelevant. The Queen needed his attention for the moment.

The Queen made no answer. It was too risky to leave her here alone if any hostiles were about. Despite the apparent calm of the moment he didn't trust it to last. He began to check her head for injuries, not wanting to aggravate any injuries. While the art of healing was beyond him, he had picked up some basic techniques from his time in the field, ironically enough alongside the women he was about to use them on.

After a moment of channel a small amount of prana, an effort in and of itself as he was unused to this rush of power, he was sure that she was not injured on the physical level. He pulled away from her and rose to his feet. The sun was quickly fading and it was too risky to move on by night nor was it safe to stay; even if neither of them were hurt something had dragged them out here, something deadly. "Looks like we'll be spending the night," he told her solemnly. Until she was awake he didn't dare move her. Who knew what she would do to him if she woke up in an unknown place without seeing a familiar face first? Besides there was no way to confirm if she had a deeper injury without running the risk of make it worse by trying to move her.

Quickly he worked to secure enough firewood for the night. Luckily the thicker parts of the forest were ripe with dead bush from the last growing season and several larger branches were easily cut from dead branches with a swift blow of an axe. Soon enough he had a small merry fire going in front Lorelei. There would be no sleep for him tonight. The watch had to be kept. He sat beside a tree across the flames and waited, listening to the silence.

Idly he traced a small dagger, one of numerous weapons he had added in trips to museum and private collections, and sucked in a breath. This was a nameless dagger, belonging to a no-name Norman noble, yet he could see its history as if he knew it intimately. It felt more real than any other blade he had traced before, almost as if it were a perfect replica which still was a skill that lay beyond him. Mentally he began to run over the steps of creation, seeking what had changed as he let the dagger dissolve.

"Judging." The dagger's concept had not changed. "Hypothesizing." It was still a steel blade with a gold handle. "Duplicating." The material was unchanged. "Imitating." The dagger was well forged, but it seemed to his mind's eye that it he could understand the smith and the intent as he had forged it himself. That was new; usually he only had a vague impression for a nameless weapon like this. "Sympathizing." The experiences, oh the experiences! They flashed through his head like a broken slideshow, images and feelings lasting less than a second, but he understood the dagger as he never had before. Pausing he took a breath. If he could get that from a simple nameless dagger then what would result when he Traced a powerful weapon like Hercules's club. This needed further investigation, but he needed to finish the process. "Reproducing." The dagger formation was unaltered, but he felt the weight of years like never before. There was a great gravitas behind this nameless dagger . "Excelling." He was already very quick to Trace, but this was easily. It wasn't as if he were pulling or tugging at the weapon, but as if the blade wanted to come to him.

"Emiya!"

The sharp command of the Queen of Clock Tower, broke him out of his investigation. He still held the nameless dagger loosely as he met the eyes of the Queen. "You're awake," he answered happily. Having her die on him would have been trouble. "Any pain?"

"No, what happened?" She sat up slowly against the tree, keeping her eyes locked to him as if seeking to stare the answers out of him.

"I don't know, but something was powerful enough to knock both of us out and transport us across space. The season aren't the same either," he answered quickly. In a battle between the two of them there would be only one casualty, the land itself. Better to give her the answer before thing started exploding. "The last thing I remember was traversing a cliff below Traviss Delon's workshop."

"And I was in my chambers at the Tower. Interesting." She shifted her gaze to the fire.

Silence reigned over the small camp. Shirou was not willing to break the silence. Instead he traced another sword, an Italian saber called the Steel Lion. The experience was the same as the dagger. Whatever had happened between the time on the cliffs to the waking up had left him with a stronger arsenal of swords as well as the greater prana. Steel Lion was a weak phantasm before, but he felt now that he could call up the physical incarnation of this sword without fearing it running loose.

"It occurs to me that we have been transported through space and time. Have you experienced the same change in your circuits Sword Saint?" she asked after nearly a half an hour.

"If you mean stronger, more potent and fixed then yes." He let the nameless dagger dissolve along with the Steel Lion. If this was another time and space then it might explain what had happened. There certainly was more ambient prana in the air then he remembered even in the greatest concentrations of mages in the world.

She looked around the area, observing and committing it to memory, but never moving her head. "Hmm… This place or rather this world is different. One could easily work a Greater Ritual with ease here. Your swords?"

"Stronger and better. Do we move out now or wait until dawn? I was unable to secure the area and guard you." He left the unspoken implications out. They had been here before. Hunting Dead Apostles and vampires with her had formed a strange bond between the two. They were far from friends or leader and subordinate, but certainly not comrades. It was a strange bond that left him in odd place within Clock Tower. Where he stood in the Queen's eyes was unknown to everyone except the woman herself. Perhaps in another life, where he had grown up as a normal magus they might have been rivals, he did have more circuits than the average magi even if they were weaker before the transition here, or maybe even foes, but even that would have been a clear indication of what their relationship was.

"Dawn. I require time to mediate in light of the changes to the circuits." She nodded once and folded her legs, the message clear. Do not interrupt me for any reason or I will destroy you.

He could only nod in acceptance. While they might be near equals in power, he wasn't about to give the Queen of Destruction a reason to unleash her powers on him. Tonight he would not sleep. Rising to his feet, he traced a familiar black bow as he walked into the darkness beyond the firelight. A part of him wondered if this bow would become a Noble Phantasm when he finally died, but not like Archer's bow. This was a traditional bow, not the Western bow of his once-future self. He would not become like that man, he had true friends and allies.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Dawn saw the two magi on the move, flashes of red and white in the morning light. They raced through the brush, dodging trees as if Primate Murder itself was on their heels. Before dawn they had started out, Lorelei racing ahead as if testing the limits of new potent magic. Soon it dissolved into a mere unspoken contest, each seeking to move just that much faster than the other as they pushed themselves to their limits and beyond. The old limits were gone here and it was liberating. It was almost as if they were Servants racing each other.

Yet it felt good to waste prana on Reinforcement of his body. It was as if his circuits enjoyed the release of built up prana and any use of it was almost a thrill. When they reached the edge of the woods he found it hard to stop. His prana was warmed up and ready to fight, a new high unlike anything he had before experienced. Standing on a branch of particularly large tree near the edge he watched the open grassland and the collection of stone buildings beyond. He could make out figures moving about and others in the fields with horse and oxen. Civilization was a welcome sign, but what Lorelei had said about space and time still haunted him. He refused to dwell on it.

"What's the plan?" he asked. Normally he would make on himself, but this was Lorelei. She craved control, needed it even. Too many times they had butted heads when one or the other was forced to divert from the original plan for whatever reason. A chance to take a free shot at a Dead Apostle was well worth diverting from the plan in his mind, especially when the fool had no barriers active and there were lives to be saved.

On the next tree over she stood, arms crossed and frowning. "The forest ends here. Observation from a hidden spot is impossible even at this distance."

"We could walk in," he suggested. Even alone he was sure he could take most threats. Together he pitied any monstrous existences they crossed, especially any vampires. Even the most basic fire spell from Lorelei would burn like the heart of a furnace. It almost wasn't fair, but only almost. Vampires didn't deserve fair.

"This is another world," she said, her tone implying he was idiot for even considering walking in. "We have no knowledge of the area. Any sort of scrying or divination might give away our position to an enemy."

He looked again at the buildings. There seemed to be a good four dozen or more, almost a fair sized trading town or village of the European mainland. "It's large enough we could pose as travelers. The road," he pointed to road heading away from the forest were several wagons were plodding along, "likely leads to bigger cities. If any of the other magi they might head there." It wasn't that he cared much for many outside of a few Enforcers and others like Rin and Waver Velet; though the Lord El-Melloi II was little more of an acquaintance he was a good man at heart despite his dislike for Japan and those of Japanese descent. Yet the man had enjoyed the tea he had been treated with shortly after Rin and he had arrived in London. In Shirou's mind a man who could enjoy tea was not how he appeared or acted.

Lorelei was silent for a minute. "We wait until dusk and walk in. If," the word carried more sharpness than he thought possible, "we find nothing then we will stay the night in an inn."

"How? We don't know what their money even is?" Typically of Clock Tower magi, they charged headlong without thinking about the practical matters such as currency. Using a foreign currency would attract as much attention as waving two hundred American dollars in a Somalia bar would.

She waved him off. "Inconsequential." She reached under her jacket and pulled out a small stone, near flawless ruby created from alchemy. "One of these temporary catalysts should spark their greed. If not then alchemy can create gold. Failing that hypnotism is a powerful tool in my hands."

She stated it as if were a simple matter of fact, leaving him shaking his head in disbelief. Gold could be created, but it would take time and several hours at most under the best conditions. There was a guarantee with the ruby if the locals held such jewels as valuable, but it was a decent plan none the less. Her plan, he idly noted had been his plan to walk in, was a sound one though fraught with risks. The natives could be hostile even with their humanoid forms or any number of things could be in play here. If this was trap then the only that remained was to walk into it and hope they came out. When had his life devolved to a point like this? Walking into a firefight between warring factions or Servants was not the actions of a sane man, but it was the best they had at the moment.

"Then we wait," he said, sitting down with his back against the tree. It wouldn't be long before dusk came on, an hour or two at most if he judged the sun's position right. Across from him the Queen had taken up a similar post in her tree. He leaned his head against the tree trunk and shut his eyes, letting his hearing and smell be his guards for a few moments. The bugs and wind were all heard with the occasional results of small animals he assumed to be rabbits or young deer.

"Shirou Emiya, I have a question," Lorelei asked after several minutes of silence between them.

There was nothing her voice that would allow for rebuke. This was no question, but a command. "What?"

"What is your bloodline? A first generation magus rarely has as many circuits as you do. How do you account for this?"

He scratched the top of his head and left out a breath he hadn't known he was keeping. "I don't know. They died at the end of the Fourth Grail War and I lost all memory of my life before that point. As far as I am concerned Kiritsugu Emiya is only father I have ever needed."

"Yet you do not bear his Crest. He took the Emiya Crest to the grave." There was a hint of displeasure in her voice.

"Are you upset about that?" He was honestly shocked. Another magus would hardly care if another family went extinct or their Crest was lost. It hardly fit the model of the magi he had encounter over the last few years among the Association and the various branches.

"Noritaka was the fourth head of the Emiya family. Upon his death by Kiritsugu's hands the body was handed over to the Association. Parts of the Crest were later returned to him. A fourth generational Crest is a worthy prize by any standard. How many years have you been in London?"

He was thoroughly confused. She was getting something; Lorelei did not make causal conversation without purpose. She gave commands, not small talk. "It would have been the summer I graduated from high school, so seven years and a few months I think."

"How many Dead Apostles and vampires have you hunted?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her incredulously. There was no way of knowing how many vampires he had wiped out. Massive attacks tended to make it hard to find bodies in the rubble if they survived at all. "Twenty-one Apostles and countless vampires. Most with you and your Brigade."

"In those seven years you have hunted more Apostles than most Enforcers will in their entire lifetime." She left out the unspoken fact that most Enforcers died to the Dead Apostles or their Ancestors if Clock Tower decided to attack on of the twenty-seven. "Such a record is a laudable accomplishment. Coming from a Barthomeloi that is high praise. Had you been born among our ranks then such achievements would be rewarded."

Stunned he could only gawk at her. What had happened to her? Something in this new world had changed her; the Queen of Clock Tower did not act like this. A Barthomeloi didn't act like this or so the general image suggested. His service record didn't matter here. He hunted vampires because they were a threat and no other reason. Leaving Clock Tower to escape the judgments of other magi and their hungry looks was just an added bonus or so he tried to tell himself. Every time he did then he left Rin without a protector, though he doubted how much need there was for him.

"Vampires are out hated enemy and the Barthomeloi will not rest until every vampire is destroyed." She paused for a moment and locked eyes with him. "What I am about to reveal to you will not pass your lips again." Firm and commanding, it was not a question but an imperial decree from a queen. He could only nod before she continued. "The Barthomeloi are in possession of a certain artifact which charts family members, when they are born and when they die. Branches of the family come into existence and die out over the course of our history this artifact has never failed to keep track of family members, except once seven generations ago. A lesser son of Barthomeloi broke with tradition, fled east and wed a woman of Asian descent with ties to the ley lines there. From the union a new magi family was born."

"The Emiya," he breathed, hardly daring to consider it.

"Correct," she said fixing him with a stern look to stay quiet. "It took two generations before the Emiya reconnected with the Association. The Barthomeloi kept our distance from the Emiya, but we never forgot and never let them forget where they came from. As a branch family, albeit a distant one, we aided them to ensure they upheld the honor of the family. The construction and enhancement of the Emiya Crest was a result. When the Association claimed Noritaka's body we took it by force when it was to be dismembered."

"Then the Crest…the rest of the Crest still exists," Shirou reasoned.

She nodded. "It does. No magi will have the secrets of the Barthomeloi or one of their branches. As the Vice Director of the Magus Association I am also considered the head of the Barthomeloi in word and deed, if not title. Over the years you have aided the Barthomeloi in our hunts and proven yourself as your father did once, a hunter of the lawbreaker be they of mystical or mundane origin. In light of these actions the Barthomeloi can and will acknowledge you as a true Emiya in blood here and now."

She was standing now in front of him as he sat with that face like ice. It was terribly hard to tell what she was thinking, but he could almost swear he saw something akin to delight in her eyes. After all it might have appeared that they were mother and grown son obediently listening at her feet. Her words bounced about in his skull, a true Emiya. He was still Shirou Emiya, but he had always known it was in name alone. He was an orphan, a charity case of the last true Emiya, who would never rightfully bear the name Emiya. Perhaps it was Kiritsugu's intent to let the Emyia die out, but there was something in him, something primal that demanded he take the offer. The name of his father's family was supposed to die with him, the man who might have become Archer, but he wasn't the same man. He had defied fate before; perhaps the Emiya family could deft fate as well. A proper name was all he might pass on to any children he might have one day, when Rin or another was ready perhaps, was a tempting offer. It was too tempting to pass up. "I accept."

She smiled faintly, a thin pencil-like crack on the icy queen's face, and it vanished as quickly as it appeared, but left its mark. She rarely smiled outside of combat when she was crushing powerful vampires and Apostles. There was little denying that she was a beautiful woman, but she was no great beauty to send men to endless slaughter over . She was a warrior queen, noble and confident in her power. That was an allure of another kind. Strange that he hadn't noticed it before, but he chalked it up to the stress of having vampires ahead of you and hungry for one's blood. That did tend to change ones perspectives on matters of beauty.

"I, Lorelei Barthomeloi, Acting Head of the Barthomeloi family, Vice-Director of Magus Association, and Wizard Marshall do hereby invoke the Rite of Blood and Honor," she spoke a runic array of an archaic nature whirled to life beneath her feet. "In the name of the Barthomeloi I hereby find this individual worthy of the name and rank of the branch family Emiya. Rise if you accept this doom to be forever tied to the Barthomeloi for better or worse." She held out her mythril gauntlet, palm out, for him to accept.

Slowly he rose to his feet, his heart racing. At last the secret wish to be a true son was about to granted. The impossible wish of an amnesiac boy was all set to come to the light. He loved his father and still held the memory of the man dear. This was for him, a true tribute. He would carry on the name. He would restore the name that his adopted grandfather had ruined. There would be other Emiyas in time worthy of the name and respectable members of both the worlds of magic and the mundane. As his father has raised him, he would raise his own children when they came, to be men and women who changed the world for the better. Being a hero of justice was merely the highest ambition, minor changes even those of a single life were worth striving for. That was why he was alive, because his father sought to make a single change in one life for the better, to try to heal and not destroy unnecessary lives.

He took her hand.

The metal was cold to the touch. She pulled him closer as the circle began to expand around the pair. She was by no means a short woman, standing an inch or two shorter than him, but he was still felt as though he were looking up as her eyes shone with a strange glimmer. Those brown orbs seemed deeper than before, almost as a pool of milk chocolate he was sinking into as he chased a fairy light into the depths. He nearly missed her continued to intone the last part of the Rite.

"…the contract complete, thrice I declare that the man Shirou Emiya is worthy on my position and honor. The Barthomeloi hereby acknowledge, once and forever more, under this contract that Shirou Emiya bears the name Emiya once and forevermore. So mote be it!"

There was a dull roar and a flash in the depths of those chocolate eyes that pulled him out. He felt a rush as if he had been electrocuted. Less than a moment later the world blacked out. He came back seconds later, finding himself sagging against Lorelei as she held him upright. "Heh, legs stopped working," he joked nervously. Invading the personal space of the Queen of Clock Tower was a death wish. No sane man would want to be where he was, propped quiet comfortably by a strong and capable woman with enough power to annihilate a small city if she wanted to.

She gave him an unreadable look as he got his feet under him and pulled away shakily. "According to the records most of the previous recipients of that Rite collapsed for several days." There was hint in her tone that she was vaguely impressed by something. "If you had done that I would have left you." There was the thorn of the rose. "You are worthy of the Emiya name and strong enough to bear the weight it will bring. There is one last thing," she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her jacket and reached into her blouse. What she pulled out was a thin vial on a silver chain. Unhooking the vial she wordlessly handed it over to him.

"What is this?" he asked as he held the vial up to the setting sun. The chain was nearly entirely silver except the hook's that kept the cap in place. The glass itself was covered in an infinitely complex array of spells of which he only recognizes some of the most basic elements.

"The Emiya Crest distilled into a liquid form. When the Crest was taken from Noritaka's body it was in shambles. The part which was given to your father was all that was removed immediately after the body was taken. The rest of the Crest was placed into a liquid state by my family until such a time as a suitable host could be found or failing that placed into the Barthomeloi vault. It is yours to use as you please now."

"Thank you," he said gratefully as he slipped it around his neck. "This… I don't have any words."

"Then don't speak," she said strangely quiet. Shifting forwards slightly she placed her hand over the vial one last time. "You know the dangers of this. When you are ready and not before; that is all that the Barthomeloi ask of you. This is your burden to carry until the end of your days Shirou Emiya. You belong to us properly now Sword Saint," she finished with another thin smile, but one that appeared more honest than most. "Now, we ought to deal with the audience."

His head whipped around to see two men standing on the edge of the forest. Both wore dirty clothes and packs laden with all manner of game animal. They carried bows over their shoulders and quivers at their hips. The taller and older of the two with a sharp nose and blonde hair smiled. "Oh don't mind us missy. We just figured you and your boyfriend would probably like to head to town before the sun set. Wouldn't want such young couple to have deal with those damned wyverns even if you're mages."

The younger man, the son by the patches of fuzzy blonde beard and wild hair, nodded at his father's words. "That flash of light will draw 'em like bees."

Shirou saw Lorelei tense up. Frankly he had been tense since she had pointed out the two men, but at least they spoke English or a variety of it. He was half ready to trace a bow or throw a dagger. The father and son knew what they were and had seen magic performed. She jumped down and he followed after a heartbeat later. "How do you know we are mages?" she asked icily, behind her back he saw spark of lighting fly between her left hand.

The father frowned before he explained. "That light was magic. I've seen my fair share of you mages and your work. I was once a military man in my youth. Fought alongside many mages so I like to think that I know magic when I see it. You two aren't on the run or anything? I don't want no trouble…"

"No," Shirou assured the man. He had just revealed several key facts of this world; it was strange to even think that way, another world. Magic seemed to be far more open than back home. There may not be nearly as many concerns over safety of innocents if they knew the signs to get away from. "We're just looking for some friends and we didn't get much sleep last night."

"Ah, I see! Understandable, just wanted to perform your little spell before you came to town. Smart that. Keeps the neighbors from complaining in the night about strange flashes. I wish other mages had half as much common sense as you. Why the other day a fire mage brunt down an entire section of forest while defeating a band of brigands! No care at all! But where are my manners? The name's Ramos and this is my son Abel," the father patted his son's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you," Abel followed up quickly.

"Likewise." Shirou looked to Lorelei for any additional commands. She was impassive and raised an eyebrow at his glance. "My name is Shirou Emiya and this is Lorelei…"

"Emiya," she cut him off suddenly. "My…husband and I don't care to wear our rings while traveling in the countryside."

The father and son accepted the story without a second thought. "Makes sense," Ramos agreed. "Those damned brigands are like magpies. They'll take anything shiny these days what with the warring and everything. Where are you headed to?"

"Into town and an inn," Lorelei answered, pointing to the town.

"Ah! We're also headed to Jahal. We should all walk together," Able suggested brightly. "After being coped up with this old goat,' he playfully punched his father's shoulder, "for a week any change in company that speaks is welcome. Deer heads just aren't that talkative these days," he complained with a smile and shake of his head.

Shirou smiled. It seemed that good fortune had smiled upon them both last night and today. Ramos and Abel seemed like honest, hardworking men of a decent sort. Of all the possibilities and people that they could have met here, this was among the best for them. "Alright, I'm sick of this forest already," he said with a small laugh.

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They parted company with Ramos and Abel at the steps of the largest inn in town, known simply as the Eye by a stylized eye hanging above the door. The street was illuminated brilliantly by the merry fire inside and shadows of those inside moving about, though it was no great festival. Behind the solid oak doors the sound of conversation and laughter reached them, comforting and familiar speech. Still neither magus relaxed their guard.

"Remember to mention that Ramos sent you when you talk to the owner. Isaac's is a good man who knows how to treat his guest well. Good night," Ramos called out as he walked down the street. Abel turned and gave them a parting wave with a smile.

"That boy is always smiling," Lorelei stated as the pair vanished into the darkness.

Beside her Shirou shrugged. "Optimism and positive thinking change ones outlook on life I suppose." His mind wandered back to the slums world over where he had hunted many heretics and vampires. Those people had no reason to be hopeful, yet they lived their lives as if the next day would be better. The reality was that they were more likely to get a knife in the gut and wind up dead in a ditch, but they never let it stop them. For magi, even a second-rate magus like himself, there was little option but to become a pessimist. Magecraft would one day kill each and every one of them; if not themselves then any of the other countless begins that preyed on humanity.

She was still looking after the retreating forms of the duo, frowning ever so slightly. He could only hide a sigh and shake his head, she was powerful but sheltered. A boy like Abel and a man like Ramos would leave her confused. Non-magi were not what she had been prepared for except to deal with as collateral. "It does not make sense. Does this world not have any threats to their existence?"

Laying a hand softly on her shoulder, he grabbed her attention. "That's a question, but we won't find any answers standing in the street." Stepping up and away from the Queen, he pulled open the door and gestured for her to enter.

"Indeed." Swiftly she entered the common and room and he followed as if the previous moment had never happened.

The din quietly briefly as they entered, but soon returned as men and women went back to their own business and their own drinks. Lorelei took the lead, taking long measured strides towards the bar. "Where is the innkeeper?" she demanded loudly.

A portly man with a shaved head appeared from the other end of the bar. He wiped his thick fingers on his apron after setting the empty glass he had been carrying aside. "Oh, travelers are you? Looking for a room no doubt."

"Yes, are you the owner of this…establishment?" Unnoticed by the Queen a hint of her hatred for these places entered her voice. Some of the worst battles the pair had every fought had been in inns. An inn full of vampires was never fun when one walks in and the doors break down to reveal hordes of ravenous ghouls and vampires.

"Isaac is my name. Welcome to the Eye, greatest inn this side of the Iron Grass Sea, in the greatest town around these parts! Now then you were looking for a rooms… or room," he said after eying Shirou for a moment.

Shirou slide beside Lorelei and started to ask for two rooms, but the Queen was faster.

"One room. We also require you to convert this." Prudent of the present company she showed him the ruby between her fingers.

Isaac's eyes widened for a moment, the light of greed evident in them. "I understand. Outlander money, but I have a scale in the back. Converting into jewels should only take a few minutes. Would you care to step into my office?" He pointed to a heavy door beside the swing gate of the bar. "Uric! Man the bar lad!" he called to a young man serving drinks. The boy handed over the last drink and nodded before Isaac walked towards the door.

"One room?" Shirou questioned quietly, as they followed after the innkeeper.

Lorelei said nothing for a moment. "It was…prudent for our current cover story. Married couples do not sleep in separate rooms when traveling."

"Always so certain," he whispered under her breath. If only it was he could be so self-assured that everything he knew was right and correct. If only what he wanted was a true reflection of reality, but perhaps that was why he got along with the Queen. She would charge ahead and he would guard her back and hunt their foes that she might never see coming, like the innkeepers. A man with those eyes when he sees a flawless ruby was dangerous. Greed was a powerful force to make men take actions they would never otherwise consider. Two travelers with jewels of a high quality without friends in a town were targets for the opportunists.

Inside the office, he leaned against the back wall with his arms folded across his chest. Lorelei oversaw Isaac as he pulled out his scale and began to weigh the jewel. There was little doubt in his mind that the man would shortchange them. Anyone who dealt in money exchanges skimmed a little off the top like some unwritten code of their trade.

The office itself was a sparse enough, new even. The wood of the desk and the cabinets was newly stained. Something had happened here that demanded new furniture. The floor was old, scuffed by time alone, but in the corner his sharp eyes caught a small burn spot almost hidden by one of the bookcases. The bookcase was sparsely filled, but the books were new and their spines all but untouched. Something drastic had happened here and recently.

"Do not think of shortchanging me," Lorelei warned suddenly as Isaac placed the ruby off the scale.

The portly man looked taken back. With a hand over his mouth in abject horror he began to protest. "Never! I am a honest man who runs a honest business. I tend to the needs of the locals and the travelers who pass through our fair town. I offer those merchants what they need, rest for the soul and food for the body. To suggest that I would shortchange those honest men from abroad is nothing short of an insult towards my honor as an innkeeper!"

Shirou jerked away from the wall, intent to calm her before she went on the offensive. Very few could address Lorelei like that and come out alive. Most of them were her equal or greater than her in terms of strength, mad or just plain insane. There was little hope for an innkeeper against the Queen. Before he could even take a step he saw her hand, hidden behind her back curl into a tight fist, and she spoke.

"I have traveled the world. There are constants among all those places. Shortchanging in monetary exchanges. I would not presume to insult your honor, but merely to remind you that that which is expected of a man in your position when dealing with a woman of my caliber. Do not test me or my patience by denying the nature of your profession." Her voice was cold and flat, betraying nothing more than hidden disdain if one knew her well.

Isaac's face fell, deflated without a threat towards his received honor as an innkeeper. "At least one of us has been able to travel in these dangerous times. These bloody mages and their wars forced many of my regulars to stay here until the conflict ends. Not I would have them anywhere else of course! But travel means more money from trade..."

Shirou instantly paid more attention to the man. "Wars? Who's been fighting? Around here?" Already his mind was going to possible strategies and counter strategies. If this place was warzone then everything would have to be treated differently.

Isaac gave him a puzzled look. "You didn't see them on our journey? Odd, but fortunate I suppose. Fiore is full of these pompous fools with their magic running around beating each other into the ground. Last I heard the fighting was headed southwards…though it won't last. The Royal Army and the Rune Knights are apparently preparing for a massive offensive towards those renegades in the east, but that's a mere rumor that doesn't matter out here. The Golden Band is trying to keep the peace around here, but at a cost. Bloody protection fees, I ought to hire some men, but what good are mercenaries without mages. And those mages are little more than thugs these days. And to think that some local boys were running with them…" he shook his head sadly. "These are troubling times."

Lorelei whirled around before Isaac finished speaking. The red haired man found himself instantly caught in the hard eyed stare of the Queen. "Don't you dare," she warned.

"But-" he started to protest.

"No. Do not force my hand Emiya." For a brief second her eyes changed to that most terrible hue of gold.

Inside he was shaken, but refused to show it. She would use those eyes on him, those eyes she reserved for the strongest beings she hunted. A bloody reminded that she was above him, despite his abnormalities. She was no Queen; that was a gross understatement. An Empress of magi with the imperial authority and might to back up her claim to absolute power might fit better. He could only sullenly accept. "Fine as long as it doesn't come to us," he said stiffly, still trying to get an excuse clause to go after the trouble makers if he could. He needed that at the minimum and she knew it.

"Acceptable." She turned back to Isaac, the matter settled for the moment. "The money?"

Isaac blinked twice, having watched the strange scene play out without seeing the eyes with his hand resting on the ruby. "Of course!" Letting go of the scale and the ruby he watched as the scale settled. "Given the quality of the jewel I'm prepared to offer more than just the equal weight. The cut is simply superb! Why my father, rest his poor soul, was a jeweler. He would have loved to seen a piece like this and paid triple the greatest offer you might receive just for the cut alone. Fantastic! Now let me get those jewels from the safe…"

In short order Isaac handed over their money and their room key, waving them out as the man began to examine the ruby in detail without bothering to rise from his chair. The main level didn't quiet as they reentered it and headed for the stairs. Several of the men, merchants by the appraising looks, glanced their way, but found nothing worthy of comment. They returned to their own conversations just as quick as they had looked.

The room they found themselves in was a decent room overlooking the backyard and out onto the plains. It was simple enough for the price, a large bed, small desk with a chair and a sizable couch all new and gently used by the looks of the wood. Lorelei sat down on the couch and shut her eyes, for the entire world looking unaware of the world. For his part Shirou let himself fall onto the bed. It was far from the most comfortable mattress, but it would pass for the night. He resisted the urge to shut to his eyes and sleep. There was still some time before he could do that.

"This is a most interesting world," Lorelei muttered loudly.

He didn't even try to roll on to side to look at her. The wood paneled ceiling was far easier to look at. "That's an understatement. It's almost like it's still the Age of the Gods. Life without the masquerade…I wonder what that's like?"

She offered no answer. For many minutes they both waited, thinking and letting the past days sink in. At Shirou broke the silence. "Do you think the others are here too?"

"Which others?"

He could almost hear the silent hate for the department heads in her voice. She had little patience for those who didn't actively hunt or had never hunted vampires. Those who relied upon their blood and connections to make themselves a safe job were of no interest to her or worthy of her respect. "The rest of the Brigade, Rin…" he trailed off half-heartedly.

Any of those people would survive no matter what this new world threw at them. Rin had survived the Grail War with him. The Brigade was made of nothing, but combat mages who thrived in hostile environments. Even if they were in trouble they would find a way to survive. There was no other group of people that he would rather have at his back than them when surrounded by vampires and Dead Apostles or confronting dangerous renegades.

"They will survive and link up with us," she stated, then added, "in time," after a moment of thought. "In the meantime we need information and a base of operations. Suggestions?"

He thought over their present location for a few minutes before speaking. "We can't stay here. It's too small and word would get out if too many strangers appeared one after another to stay. A bigger town or even a city would be ideal to blend in. Information should be easier to come too."

"That was along the lines of my thinking. This world has many mysteries which we do not have the resources, time or knowledge base to even begin to understand."

"One stays in the town or city and the other looks for the others," he added though he was sure neither of them needed it said out loud.

"It is possible that whatever transferred us here has also scattered us. Depending upon the size of the world your approach may not be viable. If that is the case then it may be advisable to ingratiate ourselves with the locales and rebuild slowly in the shadows when contact is restored. I believe the term is 'go underground'."

"And until we learn what the local mages can do about scyring or astral projection those options are off the table." He frowned at the ceiling. Why could nothing ever be simple? Go to another world, beat up some monsters, make new friends, find new villains to stop, find old friends, defeat the villains, save the new world and go home. It was that simple. Instead they had to find the world where mages were apparently openly fighting each other and were little better than thugs with the non-magical populace in the way. He was a simple man; fighting to save those he could and protect those he cared for, not the planning and logistics of rebuilding a network of magi who could be anywhere. "We're assuming that the rest are in same other-when."

She made a dismissal sound, halfway between a grunt and exasperation. "Unlikely. It is possible that this is the work of that old man. If he did have a hand in this...affair I will kill him." There was no promise or threat in her words, only a statement of fact.

Shirou resisted the need to rub his temples. If Rin's master was involved…the phantom headaches were going to get a lot more real. "I don't want to think about him," he said quietly. "Life is much simpler when he's not involved." Now Shirou was not a religious man, by any means but that didn't stop him from offering up a prayer to anyone who might be listening to keep the vampire away from him. This time he wasn't sure if he could restrain himself even if he would probably die before he landed even a single blow.

"Enough about that man. Tomorrow we find out where the nearest large city is located. I'll head there. I want you to stay here and search the forest again. There is a chance that the others might be lost within. Once you're done come and find me," she commanded.

"Is that wise? We know next to nothing about this world. Safety in numbers," he said as he heard her stand up, some joint popping loudly. He didn't fancy searching the forest for days on end. There was no proof besides themselves having appeared there and he hadn't the first clue to the size or the density of the forest, let alone the extent of the hilly country they had spied further east. He heard her moving towards and then past him, the wood squeezing ever so slightly under her step.

"Do you doubt my combat ability?"

"No," he answered quickly. He heard the sound of cloth falling. Empirically he knew what was happening. It wasn't the first time they had been forced to share a bed nor was it a problem, except for the fact that the Queen slept naked. The sound of more cloth hitting the floor then being folded softly was more than evident.

"Your clothes are dirty and you are on the bed. Remove them."

He wanted to wince. She really didn't understand the full implications or Rin had ruined his mind forever. The thought of that dark haired deviant brought a small smile to his lips. Strangely he doubted she would object to this. Hell, she'd probably do it herself it would advance her research. Slowly he sat up and began to remove jacket. Tossing it over the edge of the couch he received a cough from Lorelei, a very indicative cough. He sighed as he stood and folded the jacket. Whipped! He could almost hear Rin's voice and her sweet gentle mocking.

He heard the distinctive sound of the bedding being pulled back and hurried to pull off his shirt. The Queen was about to command the lights be put out. After all a bed was for sleeping and light did not aid sleeping. With his shirt folded he removed his pants, noting that were in fact only somewhat dirty, but no more than he would expect from a night in the forest. The distilled Emiya crest went into the pant pocket for the moment, he was loath to leave the crest beyond easy reach of his neck and his finger slowly came away from the glass and metal. Leaving his boxers on, he started for the switch for the strange crystal-like light. He paused by the door handle to feel the ambient sharpness of mana in his nose. Lorelei had put up a small bounded field, an alarm he reasoned.

"The lights Emiya. Now."

"Fine, fine, fine. I've got it." For a moment he wondered if that was how Archer had started out, a snide remark here and there, but he put the possible future-Shirou out of his mind. The man was a ghost of a ghost and nothing more, though a ghost he owed much to. Flipping the switch the room went dark. Reason stated one of them ought to stand guard in a potentially hostile environment, but he was confident in Lorelei's wards. Neither of them were heavy sleepers, heavy sleepers were vampire food after all. A small stream of pale moonlight filtered in through the windows blinds, falling across the couch.

Curiosity got the better of him. The night before he hadn't watched the sky nearly as much as he should have for signs of home, instead he had watched it for threats from above. He walked to the window and pulled back the blind just enough to see out. There was only one moon, that he was thankful for even it was for the simple familiarity. The stars were different. There was no pattern he could make out that reminded him of home. A strange desperation took him for more signs of familiarity.

Throwing open the windows he searched the heavens. His mind's eye linked stars into familiar shapes and patterns only to reject them. Taurus! No too many little stars between the horns. The scales of Libra were gone. Leo disfigured into blob of stars.

A soft hand on his shoulder and a gentle tug pulled him away from the window. Lorelei stood there naked in the moonlight, and forced his to focus on something else, anything other than the stars. No words were needed between them. She was there. He was there. Familiarity. Familiarity in a different world. She walked towards the bed, stopped halfway illuminated by the open blinds, and held out her hand.

Like a man in a trance he could only follow. Stretching out his hand, he took the offered hand in a strange land and let her lead were she willed.

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A/N: So yeah…in my time gone from FF I wrote out this little thing.

I'm not entirely happy with it and it's far from perfect, but I throw this out there for the masses. This was more to scratch an itch than any full story I'd write.

For those who care about the Shirou path think True Ending UBW after a while. Scream about magic circuits not working this way all you want, but it fits the nature of their entry to the FT-verse. Details of the Nasuverse be damned, just take as the POV character not having a formal background on this stuff like fans.

FT is set 90to 100 years before the manga begins. Fiore is in crisis as the king and his men try to control the mages who refuses to acknowledge the authority of the king and his Magic Council. Guilds are all but unknown and magic is both a blessing and curse for the common man. These are the events which would shape children like Makarov and saw the death of mages like Mavis Vermillion.

This is only one of two new one-shot pieces, and a new chapter for another one of my fics, coming in the next few weeks.

Disclaimer: I don't own this. It's on FF.