[Fate/ninth heaven] Forgotten Wings; Believe (II) [route I, day 13]

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Masterlist and readme are here.

Believe (II)

  —This is a story.
  This is an old story from days when the world was much younger than it is now.

  A red-stained world.
  A cold scene of carnage with the battle already ended.
  The knight stands in a wasteland under a muted blue sky masked in clouds.
  The wind picks up quickly, lifting the tatter of his cape as he walks away.
  He steps over corpses, those of the enemy and those of his allies.
  None of these things matter now that the battle has ended.
  …Nothing matters to the heavens but the fact of the “victory”.
  His companions would not do anything different if it were his corpse on the field.
  None of their lives mean anything individually, after all.

  —They are “things”.
  I have seen this fact several times in these dreams.
  In the world that he lived in, such a conception was seen as the one and only undeniable truth of his existence.
  He fought many great battles.
  After every one, he was quickly returned to sleep.
  He was saving lives, but he never saw the people he saved.
  He was just spat out into hell over and over again, killed many enemies, and was swallowed up into darkness once his task was fulfilled.

  I’m only watching this ugly familiar scenery from a distance.
  But all I can sense from the knight is tiredness.
  He feels no victory, no mercy, no guilt, no boredom, no joy or sorrow.
  —Perhaps it is because of that fallacy called a “truth”.
  “You are merely a weapon, and weapons have no need for emotions—”
  I don’t know how many times he was told this.
  All I know is that by this time, whichever battle this was over his long existence, it is something that he believes without question.

  …That’s enough.
  You’ve done enough.

  No one exists who will praise him or give him those words.
  The heart of the scholar was wrapped in steel and sleeps as if dead within the chest of the knight.
  Ledah Rozwelli, the great knight, the Grim Angel of the heavens…
  …is little more than a walking corpse, kept alive only by his sense of duty.
  Even in battle, his expression never changes.
  Tears never form in his eyes, and he never smiles.

  …How stupid.
  To comply with the demands of the world,
  he crushed his own sense of self and free will.

  He could have turned away many times.
  If he had left the battlefield, then he could have faked his own death and escaped into a peaceful life somewhere.
  Even being isolated would be better than the hell in which he lived.
  …But he did not even consider such a thing.
  It would be against his orders, and besides.

  “This is why I was born.”
  —It was a necessary sacrifice, from the view of the others.
  For the sake of preserving order, Asgard chose a few of its own children and utterly destroyed them.
  The world of the gods was a world of absolute order with no mercy.
  This way, there would be fewer sacrifices, and the people were happy with whatever they had to endure.
  —They could look down on the Grim Angels, think “At least I’m better off than them”, and obey the orders of the gods with easy hearts.

  He knew this.
  As a scholar, of course he knew.
  But when he was chosen, he simply thanked the messengers and complied.

  …He would not run away.
  Instead, he would accept his fate.
  It wasn’t so noble as wanting to protect everyone.
  Even being praised by one person would be enough.
  If he could fulfill the purpose of his existence, then surely someone would offer those words.
  Surely he himself would feel fulfilled before his death.
  —He only ever desired to be recognized.
  If the scholar could not be recognized, then he would become a knight as he was ordered.
  He would throw away whatever the gods asked of him, even his own heart.
  He would live, fight, and die.

  …Even if he was miserable the entire time, even if he became a machine, even if he forgot why it was he chose to do battle in the first place.

  —Surely someone must exist somewhere who would give him those words…

  I wake up.
  My eyes hurt.
  …That’s a matter of course, as there are tears in them.
  Lancer—no, Ledah.
  He’s an idiot.
  He boxed himself in with painfully simple hopes and dreams.
  —But the world should be blamed more.
  Anyone could have reached out to him and saved him before it was too late.
  That kind of person just didn’t exist.

  I go into the bathroom and wash my face before I get dressed.
  I don’t want to upset anyone by looking like I’m getting ready to cry.

  …When I go downstairs, the table is relaxed and lively.
  Like usual, everyone else is awake before me.
  Saber looks back to normal, and is sitting beside her Master with a smile.
  Vienya reaches over the table for things and feeds part of her breakfast to her familiar.
  Rose is sitting on her side of the table with a few of her study things piled next to her.
  She competes cheerfully for the same food as Vienya.
  …And Lancer is sitting at his corner of the table like always.

  …Well.
  It may be too late, but there are at least some things that I can do.
  It’s not enough just to give Lancer a warm environment.
  I don’t know what I can really do to let him relax and have fun, but I’ll start with what I know I’m capable of.

  “—Good morning, everyone.”
  I sit down as they reply to me.
  Lancer turns slightly so that his attention is on me.
  “Are you feeling better? You got hurt last night, after all.”
  Lancer nods.
  “Yes. The wounds are mostly healed and should be better after today, so we will be able to move out again soon.”
  The only hostile Servant left is Caster.
  After we defeat it, all that’s left should be deciding what to do with the Holy Grail with Saber and Roswell, and hoping that it doesn’t have to come down to a battle.
  …Rose and I don’t have any wish to grant, after all.
  “I’m glad. But I’m just happy that you’re all right, Lancer.
  “I took a risk, and I couldn’t even tell you about it. It makes me happy that you trusted me.”
  Lancer gets an uncomfortable expression.
  “…I was merely following my Master’s orders as any Servant should, and besides, I was not able to defeat Berserker alone.”
  “Nobody could ask a single Servant to take out a monster of an enemy like that alone, so don’t worry about it. You did a good job.”
  …I don’t usually have the opportunity to praise people, so I think the way I phrased it might be kind of awkward.
  Still, I touch Lancer’s shoulder lightly before I start eating.
  It’s just a touch, but it makes me want to go wild and remember that night.
  But I can’t.
  No matter how much my face wants to go red, I won’t allow it.

  “—So now all there is left is Caster.
  “Saber and Lancer both have strong magic resistance, so it shouldn’t be a difficult battle unless Caster is a complete beast, too.”
  Roswell returns from washing his dishes and says so with a calm smile.
  It’s a complacent expression, but it’s still something good to see.
  “We can’t underestimate the last Servant just because it’s a magus.
  “The Master could easily be a contact-style magus, and if they’re boosted by Caster it would be a tough battle. We can’t rule out any possibilities.”
  Rose corrects him, but she’s smiling too.
  I understand how she feels.
  If we’re all together, we can take on anything and win.
  It’s that kind of a feeling.

  “Hey, Ein.”
  She looks across the table to me with a more serious expression.
  “I made a little bit extra, so could you take some into the spare room?”

  …I realize what she’s asking.
  It kind of hurts my chest.
  But I can understand how the others might have trouble dealing with this, and after all, it was my idea in the first place.
  So I nod my head and agree, and once I finish eating, I put the spare serving onto a plate with Western utensils and chopsticks.

  …There are a number of rooms in this house that Rose and I don’t normally use.
  We gave the two upstairs guest rooms to Vienya and then to Roswell and Saber.
  There’s one more guest room down on the ground level, and I slide the door open carefully.

  …It’s quiet here.
  I can hear the sound of the rain that I never noticed before.
  It sounds soft and peaceful like a lullaby telling me it’s okay to go back to sleep.

  “—I brought you breakfast.”
  I say so quietly in what I hope is a soothing tone.
  There isn’t any response.
  “Um, I’m sorry if there’s nothing here that you like. It should all be healthy, but I understand if there’s something here that you can’t eat.”
  Rose’s breakfasts are better made than mine, so I guess in a way it’s good that this is from her instead of me.
  “You don’t have to worry about taking the plates back when you’re done. Um, I’ll be back later to take them and wash them.”

  …There isn’t any response.
  I hoped that there might be, but in the end I guess it’s useless.
  The pale figure all in white sits as still as a doll in the futon with blank green eyes.

  …In the end, we decided to bring Nessiah back with us.
  Unlike Nana and Primea, he was alone and in a state of shock… or maybe more like a waking coma.
  After he collapsed on the site of the battle, he didn’t react to anything, and his body started to burn with fever.
  It was clear that we couldn’t just leave him there.
  Lancer no longer felt any threat from him, and even Saber and Roswell felt that we should take some kind of responsibility.
  …The best way to do that would be to keep him where we can monitor him, since none of us are the type to kill enemy Masters.

  So we took out a futon and made this unused room into his room.
  It’s awkward.
  Even though he’s awake and sitting up, his eyes are blank and his face is expressionless.
  …I guess losing Berserker must have been a shock.
  That “bond” that I can’t put into words truly must have been strong.
  With it taken away, this person is little more than a husk.

  …I feel bad.
  This is the way that the war goes, but I still feel bad.
  If it were possible, I would rather not hurt people like this.
  We saved who we could, but the way Nessiah is right now, it seems like without Berserker, he can’t be saved no matter what.
  …All we can do is keep trying.

  The day goes on in a quiet and kind of peaceful way.
  Our most dangerous opponents have already been eliminated, so there’s no longer anything to fear… it’s that kind of thing.
  We sit around the table and talk about silly things.
  Eventually I do go to check on Nessiah again, and some of the food is gone.
  He seems to have gone back to sleep.
  …I’m glad as I don’t really know how to handle him.
  Rose and Vienya get into an argument about dinner and Roswell laughs at them.
  Saber watches over everyone with the same smile, like she’s just enjoying the atmosphere a lot, and I also think that this kind of peace is best.
  Lancer remains quiet, but I don’t sense that he’s tense or uncomfortable at all.
  It’s like a traveler stopping by the fireside at an inn and basking in the warmth.
  He isn’t a part of the conversation or the liveliness, but he’s enjoying the fact that it’s there.
  …For my part, I stay close to Lancer and only offer a few words here or there when the others involve me.
  Maybe it’s too obvious and won’t work, but I want to bridge the gap between the two.
  I want Lancer to realize that he has people who care about and appreciate him right here.

  Time passes by slowly.
  We might wind up heading out on patrol later, but don’t think about it.
  The rain has stopped, the sun is starting to set, and the world is bathed in gold and red.

  We’re almost there.
  We’re almost to the end of the Holy Grail War.
  …We’ve done well thus far and even though there have been some deaths and sacrifices, it’s a much cleaner Grail War than the last one.
  So it should be all right even if we all take a day off like this.

  —As I think so.
  “—!”
  All of the lights that we’ve turned on so far go out with a sound like a wooden wind chime.

  “The boundary field—”
  Rose murmurs.
  Everyone has gone tense.
  The boundary field has been broken.
  …For something to get through here, and at a time when night has not even truly fallen, it must be Caster.
  The final Servant, not wanting to wait for us to find it, has already arrived here—

  “Ein, get Nessiah up.
  “Everybody be ready. We have to get outside, it’s no good trying to fight in a tight space like this—”

  I don’t waste time trying to argue.
  I push open the door to the guest room.
  —Nessiah is awake and standing.
  He seems more alert than he was before.

  “—So he’s sent the last one.”
  He says something soft that I don’t really understand.
  But it’s fine as long as he comes with the rest of us.

  …I can feel a great and heavy magical presence advancing.
  This is bad.
  Caster is strong.
  And I can’t feel any response in my Command Spell to tell me that another Master is here, so Caster may be on its own.
  Roswell says that he can feel the presence of magic used outside.
  If this Servant is concealing its presence, then of course it must have done something so that this battle will go unnoticed.
  Simply by undoing the boundary field, this Servant knows that we will be warned.

  …We leave through the back door and move out to the street.

  It is deathly still.
  I cannot sense any movement or any life from the surrounding houses.
  They seem little better than empty shacks.

  …And she is there.
  A tall woman with long golden hair and massive wings the color of sunset.
  Her body is bare except for the parts that are covered by heavy white armor with red runes written across it.
  The angelic presence about her is the similar to that around Lancer.
  …But it’s different.
  Instead of Lancer’s honor and pride, I can only sense a great coldness about this Servant.
  There is no emotion on her face other than mild dislike.
  She points the head of the massive staff she carries at us.

  “—How courteous to come out and save me the trouble.”

  Caster speaks in a voice that is close to monotone.
  “Now you will die.”

  We don’t have time to waste.
  I don’t know what it is, but I have a bad feeling about this.

  “Lancer, do it!”
  …Lancer arms himself and rushes forward.
  Saber is also moving out to strike.

  …But.
  “A.S. Shield, activate.”
  Caster closes her eyes and stands still, murmuring.

  …It’s as though their weapons hit a wall in the air, and are not able to touch Caster.

  “—Huh?”
  Rose grits her teeth beside me.

  “…Defensive Noble Phantasm.”
  Roswell says so quietly.
  “I’ve read about them, but none of the Servants we’ve faced so far has possessed one.
  “—This is bad. No matter how weak Caster herself is physically, that barrier will prevent any attack below a certain rank.”

  “That is correct, magus.”
  Caster opens her eyes and stares us down.
  “Unless you are willing to use great magic or a Noble Phantasm in a place like this, you will not be able to touch me.”

  …This is bad.
  …This is really bad.
  I think back to the times that Saber and Lancer have used their Noble Phantasms.
  If Caster left the people in their homes alive, then the survivors will surely wind up killed.
  Their attack radius isn’t small enough.

  “—You do not intend to make any move?”
  Caster stares us down impassively.
  “—”
  I want to tell Rose to take Nessiah and Vienya and run.
  But where should they go?
  The church is too far away, and if Caster defeated us, she would easily be able to reach them before they could hide with Hector-sama.

  “Then, I shall make the first strike.”
  Announcing it, Caster raises her staff and gestures with a bored expression.

  “—Master, stay back—”
  Lancer shoves me several paces backwards and the small burst of lightning hits his shoulder.

  “—?!!”
  Pain.
  …Pain erupts through my arm.
  …What’s, going on?
  Lancer has resistance against magic, but—

  When the knight raises his head, there is blood on the side of his face.
  There is a bloody burn mark on his shoulder.
  —Impossible.
  The attack strength itself was only about the same as what Rose or Roswell could do.
  But the ranking is high enough to make it through Lancer’s defense without even using an incantation or a catalyst…

  My heart speeds up.
  Caster is looking at us like insects.
  …She has not expended any effort so far.
  …This is bad.
  Like this, she’ll be able to hit Lancer and Saber with impunity, and for fear of attacking the civilians around us, neither of them can hit back.
  …I think it’s already a given that we magi can’t do anything right now.
  I doubt I could produce a Noble Phantasm at the necessary level, let alone a specific one that would be able to hit only Caster.
  And I don’t know if Caster is unwilling to do anything flashy in order to keep the civilians here alive.
  This is so not good.

  If we stay here, every one of us will die.
  We’re outmatched and have no way to attempt to counter.
  I can’t think of anything.
  I don’t have the time to rack my brains and ask Rose what would be best to do.
  We need to get away.
  …Our only chance will be to find a place to hide and wait until the next sundown to come up with a counterattack.

  “…You still do not choose to attack?
  “Huh, for all that my Master impressed the need to leave you for the last, you do not even rise to the level of my low expectations.
  “But if you wish to be erased without a struggle, then there is no need for me to object to that. All that matters is my victory.”

  …There isn’t enough time.
  There isn’t enough time to come up with a last-ditch solution or a miracle.
  All that’s left is—

  “—Saber.”
  Roswell calls out to his Servant.

  I can tell by the tone of his voice.
  That these words are being spoken like blood is being pulled from his heart.
  But he kills his emotions and speaks anyway.

  “Buy time for us.”
  …He orders his Servant to die.
  Saber straightens up.
  She does not let her gaze leave the enemy.
  “Fight all-out. It’s already too late for the civilians near here, so you don’t need to worry about minimizing damage control.
  “It will be better for them to die quickly and painlessly than to wait.”
  He says that the civilians around here are already being drained.
  “Wait until we’re far enough away, and then find your own way to escape.
  “In spirit form, you may be able to shake her off.”
  Caster does not refute this, but simply looks on passively.

  “We’ll be headed somewhere safe. You know the place. Meet us there when you’re ready.”
  Saber is still only showing us her back.
  So I can see the regret starting to show in Roswell’s eyes, even though his voice is so firm.

  —Then.
  Saber turns very slightly and smiles.
  “Understood, Master.
  “…But instead of just buying time, it’s all right if I defeat her, isn’t it?”

  “…………”
  Roswell’s tense expression changes to surprise.
  I can understand exactly.
  The presence that Saber gives off is full of confidence.
  I don’t know whether or not she’s faking it, but her decision is just as firm as his orders.

  “—No, I don’t mind. Teach her the price of barging in where she isn’t wanted.”

  Roswell turns his back, gently takes Nessiah by the wrist, and begins to run.
  Rose and Vienya follow them.

  …I look back at Saber, readying her sword, for one more moment.
  I have nothing in particular to say to her.
  She’s our ally, but after Roswell’s goodbye, nothing I say could make a difference.
  So I nod to Lancer, and I start to sprint as he disappears into the air.

  …After I catch up to the backs of the others.
  I can hear the sounds of combat.

  Roswell is running in the direction of the bridge.
  …He runs.
  None of us pause at all, even though Nessiah’s breathing is very pained.
  We run.
  And we run.
  We cross the bridge and enter Shinto as the light disappears.
  …Past the shopping district and into the residential area.
  We run.
  My legs hurt and it feels like my lungs are exploding.
  We’ll never make it all the way to the church like this, but unless we keep running, we may not make it anywhere.

  …Then.
  Roswell stops at a large Western-style house and opens the gates, beckoning us all inside.
  We cross the spacious lawn and wait for him to close the boundary field, and then pile inside the house itself.

  The tension hasn’t quite released yet as we come to a stop in the parlor and take off our shoes.
  Everyone is breathing hard and Nessiah is shaking as if he’s delirious.
  “You don’t have to worry.”
  Roswell gets his breath under control and says so softly.
  “Even a Servant the level of Caster would have to take a great deal of time to undo this barrier, and she won’t be able to sense us behind it.
  “It took me a week to fully assemble it and the help of some of the patrons who got me this house, and it took me longer to recover afterward.
  “Essentially, this shield is a high-level great magic, so for now, we’re safe.”
  …I see.
  Such a boundary field should reject any unknowns.
  So this is the last safe haven for us.
  I’m a little glad we didn’t go to the church, as I don’t know whether even Master Hector would be able to subdue a Servant like that out of nowhere.

  …As we go through the hall.
  Nessiah suddenly cries out and collapses.

  “H-hey, are you all right?!”
  There is no response.
  Like last night, his breathing is wild and his skin is painfully hot to the touch.

  “Roswell, we have to do something, or—”
  The words die as I turn to look at him.
  Roswell is standing very still with his hand clenched in front of his heart.
  I think that’s the hand with the Command Spell on it.
  My fears are confirmed as Roswell brings his other hand up to shield it as if cradling something precious.

  …Saber is gone, then.
  It’s only natural that Roswell would feel it, as Masters and Servants are connected.
  I don’t know what to do, so I just help Rose and Vienya find a sofa to lay Nessiah on.
  The furniture is all of very high quality and we’re a little worried about messing things up, but in the end, a person’s health matters more than material things.

  …Roswell continues to stand there as we turn on the lights and do what we can.
  He stands there without making any sound.

  …
  ……
  …Time passes.

  We’re sitting in the grandly-furnished living room, which has a view into the kitchen.
  Rose is rummaging through the refrigerator trying to find something that’s worth cooking.
  …Lancer and I are simply here in the living room.
  I still don’t know what to say or do.
  It’s clear from Roswell’s reaction that Saber is gone.
  If Caster were going to attack us, she would already have done so, and so it’s safe to guess that she can’t find us, she’s too injured for another fight right now, or both.
  I hope it’s both, but there’s no way to say for sure.
  Lancer is silent, with his expression closed.
  I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
  …This atmosphere is too oppressive, but it would feel almost sacrilegious to break it.
  Nessiah is still lying on the sofa where we left him.
  His fever seems to be climbing and he hasn’t opened his eyes.
  It seems like the state he was in after Berserker’s death, but worse.

  …Roswell is sitting at the table with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.
  He looks very tired and I expect that the truth of his leaving Saber behind to die is probably weighing on him very hard.
  He keeps staring straight ahead of him and seems like he can’t react to anything.
  I think back to how well-suited he and that girl were to each other.
  For that “bond” to have been destroyed is a terrible thing.

  As Rose continues to hunt through the kitchen, Vienya arrives.
  She’s been upstairs reclaiming her guest room, probably the same one she used when they were working together before.
  Quietly, she pulls out the chair next to Roswell and sits beside him.
  She doesn’t say anything.
  …Well, obviously she can’t, but she doesn’t have her familiar say anything for her either.
  Her silence must mean more than anything we could say.
  The atmosphere around Roswell relaxes a bit.

  …Now that I think of it, they were working together before we joined in.
  I remembered that, but it didn’t feel important compared to everything else, so I remembered it again.
  They had an alliance before the starting bell even rang.
  …I wonder how they must have met.
  It isn’t a story that we would know.
  Maybe it isn’t one that we have the right to know.

  …In the end, I do understand this.
  If there’s anyone particularly suited to comfort Roswell right now, it’s her.

  After a while, Roswell stands up and says that he’s going to bed.
  He smiles as though he’ll be better in the morning, and leaves.

  Rose finds some things to heat up, and the rest of us eat dinner.
  When we’re done, Vienya also leaves the table.

  “—Man.”
  Washing dishes with Rose, I try not to let the mood depress me too badly.
  I mean, of course it’s going to depress me no matter what.
  Someone who should be here will never come back.

  Out of nine Servants, only two are remaining.
  On top of that, the Grail should start to manifest in two or three days’ time.
  …Somehow, we’ve survived until the end, but this means that the final battle will between us and that Caster.
  The Caster that even defeated Saber, who saved us so many times.
  …But we have to win.
  Who knows what her Master would use the Grail for, and as Hector-sama’s representatives…

  …No, that’s wrong.
  That’s not why I have to fight and win.
  …It’s because this everyday scenery is something that I want to protect.
  I’ve never really felt what it’s like to have a family myself, but I bet it’s something like this.
  Roswell and Saber were like reliable older siblings and Vienya is like a little sister.
  And Rose and Lancer are always with me.
  It’s not perfect and I understand that.
  …But this normal, peaceful, sometimes awkward scenery is something that’s precious to me.
  These people are the ones I want to send me off to school every day.
  I’d like to introduce everyone in the magic club to everyone else, not just Lancer.

  And besides.
  The dreams I’ve had all this time.
  The Holy Grail is the one miracle chance that I have to save Lancer.
  …He lived an unfulfilled and empty life, and yet he’s been summoned into this war because somewhere inside himself, there’s a wish that only the Holy Grail can grant.
  In Lancer’s current state, I don’t know whether or not he even recognizes what that wish is.
  His sense of self is so shattered and so buried.
  But he has a wish, and I want to make sure it’s granted.
  Lancer has protected me all this time, so it’s the least I can do in return.
  Besides, I want to do it.
  I’m worthless as a magus and I’ve only barely managed not to be a burden as a Master.
  But telling Lancer that he’s done enough and granting his wish is something that I know I can do.
  So I’ll fight.
  —Even if it’s against Caster and the Master we haven’t seen yet, I’ll fight.

  “You should go to bed, Ein.”
  Rose says so as she takes a seat in a tall chair.
  “—What about you?”
  Rose shakes her head and grimaces.
  “I’ve got a little bit of research I want to do.
  “…And besides, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to leave this guy alone.”
  She points to where Nessiah is lying on the sofa.

  “—All right. Take care of him.”
  Rose sort of shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
  But I know that I can count on her.

  Lancer and I head upstairs.
  There seem to be a number of guest rooms available among the doors that are open.
  “…Then I guess we’ll take this one.”
  The bed is big enough for two, but there’s also a large couch on the other side of the wall where Lancer can sleep.
  It does make my heart a bit faster and make me nervous that after all this time, Lancer’s finally going to be sleeping in the same room as me.
  But after all this, I’ve realized that he was probably right about us needing to stay in the same room for safety.
  I know that it will take Caster a while to break through Roswell’s boundary field even if she manages to find us, but it’s more comforting to have Lancer with me, even if it is also awkward.

  …I don’t have anything to wear to bed but the clothes I’m in.
  Hmm.
  I take off my shirt in case I sweat in my dreams.
  After all, unless I can borrow some of Roswell’s clothes, this is all I have, and I don’t want to mess it up.
  Not being able to go back home is a problem.
  …Well, there’s nothing we can do about that now.

  Lancer sits down on the couch and I turn off the lights.
  “—Good night, Lancer.”
  “…Yes. Good night, Ein.”

  And I get into bed.
  …It takes a while to get used to the sound of Lancer breathing.
  To distract myself, I think.
  …About what to do from here.
  About what I want to do, and what’s most important to me—