Chapter Text
At first, he was nothing. He held no mass of energy, tangible substance, or strings of thought. He was ether, pure, simple, peaceful. And then, A voice called to him.
“Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master, Schweinorg. The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.”
The voice, young, female, familiar, called him into being. Only, something was wrong. She was not calling him correctly.
“Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Repeat every five times.” Knowledge flowed into him, the Holy Grail War. The Seven Servants. And the Wish. A master called, and now he would answer.
“Simply, shatter once filled.” As she spoke, he became more and more, the power feeding the ritual warping and twisting his purity into something else. Some cold, malicious, and powerful.
“I announce. Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword. In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.” A part of him broke away, one more controllable, moldable, and began shaping into Servant Archer, the red-clad bowman who failed to be a hero and hated himself for the very ideals that made him.
“Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead. You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!” Suddenly, violent, he was born.
His mind was a jumbled mess of memories and blueprints. Yet, he knew who he was.
Emiya Shirou, Alaya’s favorite dog. The Hero betrayed by those he saved. The monster born from Kiara’s corruption. But, He had died, so why was Emiya Shirou alive?
Rage built as he locked onto the boy called Emiya Shirou. The wannabe Hero of Justice, who’d rather die smiling than try to defend himself. A sword with no wielder and no one to care for it.
“He needs to die,” the words slipped from his lips, his body slowly forming, beyond what a Servant container could do. “He needs to die so that I’m never born,” malice oozed from his voice, the world itself whimpering as the container burst, allowing something new to form.
The heavens quaked as he searched. Seeking the boy. Yet, he could not find him. His growing frustration filled the skies with thunder and lightning. The world itself copying his foul mood as his wrath grew.
From Dawn till dusk, he searched. Yet, the boy remained hidden. Until, he didn’t.
It had started to return. The foundation of who he was. Homurahara Academy. That’s where he’d find him. The source of the pain. The reason for the suffering. It was here, in this building of bricks and mortar that it had began. And should his will be done, it was here that it would end.
He got there, guided by memories and summoned by the building power. He spotted three figures. All familiar, all foreign. Yet, while one of those figured caused a feeling of great fondness and nostalgia, the one he sought was not here. And that’s one of them, a girl, spoke.
“Servant... Lancer,” she said. The voice that called him into being. Her face appeared before his mind’s eye, yet her name remained lost to him.
“That’s right. And your Servant is Saber,” A man. Tall. Red-eyed and powerful. A spear, red, death. “Or maybe not. Who the hell are you?”
A sneer formed, a teasing grin. Cocky, arrogant. “Heh. You’re not the type to engage in one-on-one combat. So you must be Archer.” Memories flash. A warrior, brash but brilliant. Annoyingly sharp and irritatingly good. “All right. I don’t like it, but now we’ve met, we have to fight.” A shrug, casual, unconcerned. It was all there, as shown in the fragments he knew. “Rules of engagement and all that. Come on, take out your bow, Archer. I have some manners, so I’ll at least wait for that.”
The girl who called him, he took stock of her. Stood behind the him she summoned, clad in a red jacket and watching the emerging conflict with baited breath and an uneasy gaze. Hey eyes flicked around, searching for him. For she knew, somehow, that he was here. And that he was angry. So very angry.
A battle brewed, yet he did not focus on that. No. He homed in on the building beside it, causing the heavens to whimper as a storm slowly spun into existence. Yet, he was denied. Before he could descend and reveal his wrath, the blue man struck, slaying the boy before he could. The spear of red death pierced the boy’s heart and ended his life.
His rage sent shockwaves across the sky as he retreated, his core crying for blood.
He continued, until the boy rose again. Unsteady, slowly, but alive. The world narrowed to him and the boy. The reason for his suffering. The reason for his pain. Hatred boiled in his being, begging to be released. The world stilled as he began to form once again.
Memories of a life he’d once lived surged. Shirou Emiya. A blank slate adopted by a broken shell. Raised by a tiger in human skin. The Hero of Justice. A fool betrayed by the ones he saved. A failure who died with a smile, thinking he would be a hero forever.
How disgustingly naive!
The nose of Alaya slipped, and he broke free. At least, a part of him did. Enough to escape in full? He did not know. He just knew that this him was free. And he thanked the heavens, the world, and the legends that he was. A laugh that was part joy and part madness burst from him, though the howling winds swallowed the sound.
The Throne of Heroes, where he’d once resided, provided the basis for him to form, and form he did. An Archer, who used swords as arrows formed. A Hero without a name, a Sword without a sheath. A foolish boy trying to live up to an impossible ideal that only brought him pain and misery.
A hurricane descended, encasing the estate he once lived in, sealing it like a tomb. And he descended, grey eyes filling with resentment as he glared at the downed form of who he used to be. It was time to end this. Time to free himself from the life he’d foolishly chosen. Time to finally find peace.
The boy lived. And he would not be denied again. Shirou Emiya would cease tonight, that was his fate.