Nova Prima Donna – 01 – The Swan Princess

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This is a mini-project so my brain doesn’t stop working… It’s about a girl chosen by the Universal System, which guards and controls the fourteen realms, to close the final gate and stop the destroyers of realms (a sort of a clean-up program that ran amok). It’ll be different from anything I’ve ever written because the main protagonist isn’t a delicate flower, she’s more like a dandelion… She’s versatile, she’s rough and tough, and above all – she won’t take no for an answer.

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Mother would read these stories to me – stories about princesses living in beautiful kingdoms, constantly in trouble. They were damsels in distress who would need a prince to save their hearts, or princes who needed the help of a princess, even princesses who would become queens and never need saving. She’d brush my hair every night, I was probably five or six years old, and she’s take out this big book. Every other day, it was a different story: she’d ask for a summary, for what I understood from it and what it meant to me as a growing girl. Puberty was still a long way away, she was proud of what she had achieved.

Then, when I was ten years old, she passed away. She suffered a great deal, she cried every night. She wasn’t the hero I expected her to be but she was my mother, and that meant a lot. When she was buried, I placed the big book inside her coffin and we buried her with it. Maybe she would have fun reading it wherever she went. It was a dream, a lovely idea… Too bad that was all it was.

By the age of sixteen, I had forgotten all about those stories but Hollywood would attract me to them, once again. I was like a fly buzzing around a bright light. Revamping the old stories I cherished the most and shedding new light, I was overwhelmed, no, thrilled. It was a fun time, like being with my mother again.

Now, I’m here, sitting in my apartment’s window sill, hoping that something good might happen before I die of boredom. Life zoomed past me; it certainly wasn’t the life I was hoping for. Two four-hour-shift part-time jobs and a morning filled with class activities, not to mention the evenings spent with my textbooks and homework. It wasn’t an enjoyable time.

 

*

 

“Not this again…” I stared outside the window, hoping this was my chance to escape the lecture on human sexuality. “I already know what my sexuality is and how to preserve it, thank you very much.”

“Just sit by it, hold up.” Marie whispered. I wasn’t about to wait for her.

“No, I’m bailing on you today. This isn’t what I want to waste my morning on.” Placing what little I had in my arm-chair, inside by bag, I slowly and gently tiptoed outside the classroom while the teacher took out condoms.

 

The sky was blue, like an ocean with nothing but water and not a speck of land in sight. No clouds, no distractions, just blue… plain ol’ blue. I was stretched out on the grass, beneath a small tree; its branches constantly struggled with the incoming gusts of cold air. I couldn’t blame it, the wind was strong, the atmosphere was cold and the sun wasn’t doing its job properly today. As the cold wind blew, I struggled to find warmth. After giving up on the idea of being at peace here in the campus, I made my way home.

The concrete floor was dotted with green moss, it was raining every evening, and it didn’t seem to want to let up. It was that time again: the rainy season. Birds chirping, almost like calling their young ones back home, away from the incoming rain. I was hesitant to wander outside my home, if I got wet, I could get sick, and if I got sick, then I’d miss classes. I couldn’t miss any more classes… I’ll be kicked out if I did.

Tying my hair back, a pony-tail seemed like the most attractive work of art I could do with it, as I fell atop a pile of clothes. Why was the bed so soft? I didn’t need a man; I needed a big bed with a warm comforter and a hot cup of tea or coffee, whichever got here first.

The room shook when a heavy vehicle passed by; the street was just two apartments away. Looking outside my window, I saw it again: a bright light beneath a tiny tree. Was it a firefly? Do fireflies shine in a prism-like order? Do fireflies even exist here? I was overflowing with curiosity. I could still indulge in child-like wonder and awe; thought curiosity wasn’t a very good reason for me to wander off outside, especially in the middle of the night. Could I let that little bug, or whatever that was, slip from my fingers after I was so close to it?

Picking up some old, blue slippers from beneath my bed, I tucked in my dress and walked out of the apartment. Scared, yes, excited, yes, paranoid, you betcha’ but overall, I was curious. The night was cloudy, no stars in sight, not even the moon. Tomorrow was going to be the fabled harvest moon and the sky didn’t seem to want to let go. A light drizzle continued, nothing I couldn’t handle. My footsteps echoed in the night but I managed to check every direction before I made a move. Slowly walking over to the light source, I noticed something… It was a ring. A small ring but a ring, nonetheless. Strange, it was silvery, plane, with a small stone, probably zirconium. Not wanting my adrenaline to go to waste, I grabbed the ring and brought it back home, as I skipped over puddles and along muddy paths. Home is where the warmth is.

 

*

 

People were playing with a guitar outside the classroom. Again with those guys? How long will they keep at it? Nobody likes an acoustic lone-ranger… We’re into the lead guitarists or the lead singer, not the acoustic backup singer. Looking away, I tried paying attention to the chalkboard but I could barely understand anything. Math wasn’t my forte and neither was paying attention. Taking out the ring from my pocket, I kept on looking at it, examining every nook and cranny. It didn’t seem like the genuine thing a guy would give a girl or a girl would buy in an afternoon of reckless spending.  Plain silver, if it even was silver, with a stone, probably a fake, and an inscription that read: “Heed ye, lest ye fall in a deep sleep. Thou must awaken that which slumbers beneath thine eyes.” Such a poet, no wonder the ring was underneath some bushes, the guy must have been quite the loser. Besides, it read more like a threat that an ode to love. Yeah, he must have been a poor sucker.

 

*

 

The night was cold, once again, but the sky was wide awake. The stars glimmering under the darkness of the dark blue celestial ocean; the moon overpowering the shadows that formed in the streets – the blue moon was well outside its warm confines deep within the horizon. It was a lovely sight, a feeling of security and peace sunk in. As I held the ring in my right hand, warmth overwhelmed my palm. What was going on? I dropped the ring, it began to glow. Not a shadow peaked from the corners of my room; everything was illuminated by an unearthly brightness. Voices echoed through my head, they were calling me… they were saying my name… it was as if I was needed somewhere. As strange as it sounds, the feeling of being somewhere to help someone I hadn’t met before was nothing short of a déjà vu brought about by everyday activity. Something everyone has felt at the very least, once in their lifetime.

The light dissipated but everything was not normal. The room wasn’t my own; the bed was mine alright, just not in the room I had last seen it in. Had I gone mad? That must be it, being alone for so long must have finally gone to my head. For all I know, I might have snapped in the process and now I’m schizophrenic. Yes, that must be it.

There were two wooden doors carved with a beautiful golden engraving. They looked pretty expensive. Shaking in fear, I closed my hands and held the ring firmly in my grasp. Maybe, if I repeated over and over again that I wanted to go home, it would work again? Far-fetched but it was worth the short. I knelt on the floor and prayed and prayed and prayed, I had become religious in the blink of an eye. Welcome to the cult of the ring, population: me. It was pretty pathetic but that was all I had. Nothing happened. Strange, it should have worked… It always works in movies… and fairytales.

 

“Maybe I’m in some sort of dream, yeah, that must be it. And if I’m in a dream, exploring won’t hurt now would it?” I whispered to myself. It had become pretty common for me to talk to myself; that was desperation working its magic. You can’t be a single college girl without losing your mind first. “So, having said that… I can just waltz over to the door and explore, right? Yeah, I can.” Answering my own questions? Had I sunk that low?

 

My slippers were nowhere to be found, screw it, I could walk barefooted. The floor was made of, what seemed to be, marble tiles, perfectly square and joined with impeccable precision. There were flowers painted on the white tiles and swans on the black tiles. Almost like a chessboard. As I neared the window, I noticed that this was no normal room. I was in a tower, probably a few stories above ground. The place was surrounded by tiny houses and a far-off lake could be seen in the distance. Struggling to catch my breath, I calmed down for a bit.

 

“Come on, you can do it… It’s nothing out of this world. It’s just a dream, like flying or free-falling. Your mind has seen one too many animated movies and is giving you a hard time… shit, it might even be something in that tuna that is making me see things.” Taking a few steps to the door, I slowly grabbed its swan-shaped handle. It was probably made of gold, and if this was my dream, its most certainly made of gold. I was a girl with high standards in my creative processes.

There was a large hall outside the door, armors dotted the sides of the hallway, as well as large portraits of older men and women; probably people of importance. Slowly, walking down the hall, I heard a noise… No, it was music, an orchestrated piece I hadn’t heard before. The violin was very prominent but it was so different from anything I had seen before. Slowly walking towards the source of the music, the door opened. Its golden handles pushed away from my grip as a beautiful lady appeared before me. She bowed and grabbed my hand, slowly kissing it. I blushed, this had never happened before in my dream.

 

“My name is Odette; I am the princess of this kingdom. I am so sorry I dragged you to my realm without prior information. We need you, our kingdoms need you.” Her voice was soft, with a hint of uncertainty. She was unsure, I could sense that. “Sit down, please. Let me tell you the story of the thirteen kingdoms – protectors of the living realm. I am the keeper of the swan key, the princess of the swans.”

“Oh, my god… You’re the Swan Princess!” Holding my mouth with both hands, I was on the verge of screaming with excitement. “Holy fuck-” Quickly stopping in my tracks, I regained composure. “Shit, I almost lost it.” I whispered.

“There is a legend, of a day when the sky will turn red and the fourteen realms will fall into oblivion. There is unspeakable evil living beneath the floor your currently stand on.”

I observed intently as she managed to bring out a drawing. There was a dragon beneath a large tree whose branches were spread out into thirteen different directions. In the middle other branches was the fourteenth dimension: the realm of Eve. “I gather the dragon is the bad guy?”

“The dragon is the support for the fourteen realms.”

“So, if he moves, we disappear?”

“If he moves, he’ll tear everything into nothingness.”

“Why do you need me?”

“We need you to enslave the dragon, once more.”

“Why? I mean, how?” She scratched her head for a while, “What do you mean, once more?”

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 8: Icy Overlord

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So, a new servant has been revealed: Rasputin. Yeah, that guy is the enemy. Don’t mess with the witchdoctor of the Czar.

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As Archer prepared her rifle, the atmosphere became cold. It was the middle of April and yet, she could see her breath, rising up into the sky; a sky that had become dark and cloudy. Archer took off her uniform and placed it around her master’s shoulders. She shivered as the temperatures plummeted. Archer looked around, a seal, a mage-art – anything that could provide relief for her master. It was all for naught, though the perpetrator soon appeared as tiny snowflakes began to fall upon Abigail’s jet-black curls and her shoulders.

A being covered in a robe, a staff made out of steel with Russian inscriptions on its side; there was only one man who could make the living fear him. Archer fired at the servant, only to have her shot deflected by a speedy swing from the servant’s cane. The shot zipped from its position, zig-zagging across the air till it found its place through the servant’s chest. The image of the hooded being disintegrated into snow as a snowstorm fell upon Abigail’s existence – she felt cold, a strong unyielding cold that would not stop without consuming her soul. Loneliness and sadness: an emotion that brewed an icy after-taste deep within the structure of every snowflake.

Ice started bursting from the ground, surrounding them as Archer reloaded her rifle. Shot by shot, she tore the towers down as the bullets zig-zagged through the air, striking newer structures as they popped out. Archer fired and fired, destroying anything that would dare threaten them. All to no avail, the icy structures were doing what they were created to do: distraction. Abigail was slowly coming down with hypothermia. Being born in Louisiana, she was a master of the darkest of magecrafts: voodoo. Her powers saved her whole family from the disaster that was Hurricane Katrina, but now, she was trying to maintain her life with a thin veil of magecraft around her body, all the while controlling the trajectory of each bullet and providing her servant with enough prana to use that rifle of hers. Things were looking grim.

As a last ditch effort, Archer propelled herself into the air using a shot she fired directly at the ground beneath her feet. Using the icy towers as a base for her leaps, she jumped from tower to tower till she was high enough to see it. There it was; the servant that was causing all the commotion. Archers had very little magical abilities and senses but their keen sight was more than enough to find even the sneakiest of bastards hiding amongst the urban jungle of the city. She steadied her aim, finger close to the trigger, rifle on her shoulder, eyes on the target; as she was about to fire, her head impacted with something cold and solid – a wall. There really was a wall above their heads. She fell to the ground; the shot missed its target, zig-zagging through the dome, in an attempt to shatter it.

Large shards from the glass-like dome material ricocheted inside the container, falling close to where Abigail lay. As the dome regenerated, something jumped through a wide-enough opening. They couldn’t believe their eyes, it was Lancer! Pietro jumped off, holding a golden cross in his hand, he said the following words, “May the God, Creator of Heaven and Earth, shine thine light upon this icy hell: Rex Deus!”

A bright golden light shone from the tip of his spear. The ice around them melted away, just as the dome collapsed, falling atop their bodies. Pietro walked to where Abigail lay, holding out a jacket, he covered her body with it; smiling he replied, almost in a whisper, “It’s time to go back.”

Those words echoed inside Abigail’s mind. The same exact words her father said before he was killed. How in the world did Pietro copy that phrase? Was that part of his magical abilities or was it sheer luck? Baffled, she gazed into his blue eyes, unable to respond but slowly taking his hand. Archer sat on Lancer’s horse. Lancer gazed into the horizon, probably wishing he had had a chance to battle the servant that had caused them so much trouble.

“He’ll be back, I know he will,” Abigail commented. “He might be looking for something from his past.”

“The old witchdoctor of the Czar… Rasputin.” Pietro pulled her up, “A man who was said to be immortal.”

The tiny stumps of the flowers that dotted the plaza were covered in icy petal-like constructs. Ice-flowers, created when water from within the plant is extracted and frozen on atmospheric contact, now adorned the park. Abigail smiled. This was the only time that Abigail was pleased at something very important: her life.

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 7: Call to Arms

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Okay, finally chapter 7! We have two new legendary heroes, so start your bets! Who do you think they might be? I’ll give you a hint: a lady with a rife and a knight on a horse. Not very good hints but I don’t want to spoil the fun.

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They slowed their pace; this was no time to rush into things. The enemy could be nearby, though their job was to scout potential locations for bases. Sunlight raining down on them, the sky was cloudless, save for a few white patches that could very easily be ignored and the deep blue color of a warm sky. Traffic was terrible; cars and trucks, rushing to the destinations, making crossing a street as dangerous as their own job. El Obelisco, that’s where they were, a small park lying between four intersections and plenty of car-infested lanes.

Abigail sat on a small bench, sighing at their fruitless find. She had wasted all morning trying to look for a hint of magic, a speck, a scent; anything that could point them to where the other masters were hiding. As Pietro leaned over to pick up what seemed like a small coin, Abigail sensed something. Archer revealed herself and fired up at the sky. A large glass-like barrier shattered around them. Pietro’s Lancer appeared as well and pierced the coin with his large golden spear. The rest of the dome came crashing down.

“Pietro, I think we’re in some sort of a Reality Marble.” Abigail examined the fragments. They were soft to the touch, warm with a faint heartbeat – somehow it seemed alive. “It… It… has a pulse?”

“Calm down Abigail, there is no way a spell can have a pulse, not even a weapon created using Projection Magecraft can have a heartbeat.” Pietro rode atop Lancer’s horse. “I’ll go take a look, you stay here, sniper.”

“Don’t let your guard down; they are here… watching us.”

“I know.” Pietro tossed the coin at her.

Her small fingers traced the outline of the metallic artefact, squinting to see what was inscribed on its surface. Goosebumps ran up her spine; a Russian coin? Somehow, he was impressed, knowing that there was only one person with the magic necessary to create something of this magnitude. Archer’s careful gaze monitored their surroundings, holding her rifle well in a steady grip. Abigail’s mocha skin was battered by the mighty sun, now at its highest place in the sky. She calmed down, Pietro would return soon.

#

Pietro held on to the horse’s saddle, readying a piece of paper in his left hand. “Lancer, you wouldn’t happen to sense anyone around?”

“No master, who ever made this seal is long gone.” Lancer’s helmet hid his face but Pietro could feel the urgency in his voice. “Magic of the darkest form: necromancy.”

“Necromancy? That narrows down the list of Caster servants that could do something of that proportion.”

“Master, may I suggest returning? We are just outside the boundary of Archer’s rifle. Her services are well needed as I am not equipped for long-range battles.”

Pietro looked around, trying to sense anyone’s presence but to no avail. “Perhaps, the battle has already started.” Taking out a small dagger, he readied his spell. “We have yet to realize it but it’s our move.”

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 6: They Call it The Blues

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It’s Fanfic sunday again! 😀 Here is the latest addition to the Fate/Shattered Universe. Enjoy.

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Berserker swung his axe, throwing Beowulf over to a side, tossing golden plates and cups on the ground. As Beowulf got on his legs, he swiftly dodged the second swing of Berserker’s axe and struck. Berserker fell to his knees. Amidst such a calamity, Rudolph stood there emotionless. Raising one hand he commanded Berserker to get on his feet and counter-attack. Berserk, once again, swung his axe, missing Beowulf completely but this time he proceeded to kicking him immediately. His foot struck his opponent in the face, flinging him all the way to the golden throne.

 

“You may have become a Saber, but that only means that your strength and resistance has gone down a few levels from that of a Berserker.” Rudolph commented. “Let’s seal this battle for good. Berserker, now use your Noble Phantasm… Babe!”

 

The earth began to shake as blue flames sprouted from the ground. The flames danced around Berserker till it eventually materialized into a gigantic blue bull, or was it an Ox? At that moment, Berserker grabbed a lamp post and bent it into a U shape, placing it below the bull’s neck, like a girdle. As he readied his Axe, the bull rushed towards Beowulf. Both horns shattered Beowulf’s armor, piercing his flesh, tossing him out of his very own Reality Marble and into the cold concrete.

 

“Hijo de—“

“Sorry, I’m bilingual but only because I know French and English. You’d better get your act together, or this next blow will most certainly kill you both!” Rudolph interrupted him.

 

The Narco grabbed his gun and aimed it at Rudolph who proceeded to impaling him with crystalline shards. As his body fell lifelessly into the ground, Beowulf looked up at Berserker and said his final words: “Well done, warrior, well done… Keep safe, we shall meet again someday.” With this, his body disappeared into tiny particles of light.

 

xxXxx

One of Rider’s crimson wings transformed into a big arm, grabbing the mummy in mid-air, smashing him into the ground; Christina looked away. As Assassin fired a barrage of arrows, Rider’s other wing absorbed the arrows and fired them at Imhotep. Cobras came forth from his left arm, blocking each and every arrow. Assassin climbed the light post, jumping from atop, Imhotep summoned his mummy again.

 

“Damn it, if I block Assassin, the Mummy will get me but if I block the Mummy, Assassin will surely incapacitate Rider.” She bit her lip.

A voice shouted from behind her, “Block Assassin!”

 

A great blue bull swept the Mummy into submission with its powerful hooves. Rider’s wings grabbed Assassin and tossed him into a building. No sooner had they recovered than they disappeared, their masters were nowhere to be found. They were probably using their servants as decoys. Ignorant bastards.

 

“Did we beat them?” Christina commented.

“Only Berserker…” Rudolph sat on the sidewalk.

“I was unable to defend myself from a Caster and an Assassin class servant.”

“Don’t worry about it, two against one isn’t fair. Plus, Imhotep… You faced off against Imhotep. That’s pretty impressive.”

“And you defeated Beowulf.”

“Nah, we’re both great.”

 

They laughed. The battle had proceeded as planned, though defeating a servant was not on the list.

 

“I hope the others are still alive.” Christina looked at Rider who smiled and disappeared along with her steed. She placed both hands together and prayed for the soul of her lover. “Rest in peace, love.”

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 5: Miss Rider

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Ok, as promised, a new fanfic chapter. 😀

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Her rosy cheeks emerged from within her veil. It was semi-transparent and adorned with a red floral pattern. She was naked, hidden beneath said material. Kneeling down to reach for a tiny coin, her red hair emerged from her slightly covered body; the Narcos on the opposite side of the street gazed in amazement.

 

“Look at her! She is the last woman your eyes shall gaze upon!” Christina shouted.

 

Both men laughed. Tossing the beer bottles they had in hand; shattering on the floor, spilling their contents and covering the ground in brittle shards as one of the men took out a golden revolver. His magical seal was on that revolver.

 

“Listen here; there are two of us and only one of you. How in the fuck do you expect to win?” He puffed smoke from his dry pealing lips.

“I guess she wants to get some of this.” His companion grabbed his belt buckle, insinuating something more, to which Christian looked away in disgust. “Miss, I hope you enjoy our company after this.”

 

His command seal was on his belt buckle.

 

Christina giggled. “Wow, two hairy, fat men trying to seduce me. Well, this looks more like an attempt at rape. I don’t really care who you are, you’re playing in the big leagues now.”

 

Rider’s eyes gazed at them and their servants. They could see an ocean of peace and beauty in the reflective blue of her stare. Everyone knows well to heed the warning of the ocean; it can be a cruel mistress. She wrapped her veil around her chest, covering the uppermost part of her body. A big white horse appeared from the ground in a bright flash of light, adorned in sterling silver armor and a golden girdle.

 

On the other side, the Assassin servant took out a crossbow and a small saber. Holding on to his hat, he jumped over to a side, preparing himself for evasive maneuvers. His long black hair became visible from beneath his dirty old leather coat. The Caster servant stepped a few feet infront of this masters. His body was wrapped in bandages, with pieces of gold covering his shins, shoulders, waist and a dog-like mask over his head. With a small golden scepter, he called forth snakes from the ground.

“I’m not stupid to miss that! Never in my life did I ever think I’d meet Imhotep on the field of battle. Not only is he here but he’s my opponent!” Christina whispered.

Rider looked at her and smiled. “This is becoming rather difficult, is it not?”

“Yes. Very difficult.”

 

The snakes on the ground merged into a large cobra, striking Rider. She evaded its poisonous bite, kicking its head with the horse’s rear legs. As she stomped on the remaining snakes, Assassin fired a volley of arrows. “Bare Loyalty!Rider’s veil shone in a scarlet light, transforming into twin red wings. She blocked the arrows with them; absorbed them, her wings had a blood-like consistency, and finally fired them back with a crimson bow tied to them. Each arrow exploded on contact.

 

The Narcos took out their guns and fired at Christiana. Rider’s wings protected her. Imhotep summoned one coffin as he shouted at them – Kheredu-ankh! A being covered in bandages appeared. Christina looked in horror as the being revealed its body. It was… Christina’s deceased fiancé! He wore an Egyptian armor, a shield with a snake insignia and a golden sickle. That ‘mummy’ attacked Rider, as she barely escaped his swing. Christian was reluctant to attack.

 

“You bastards! How dare you desecrate a deceased human?” She shouted.

“Like what we do with servants?” One of the Narcos replied.

“Madre Santisima, you are a hypocrite.” The other Narco added.

“Well then, if I’m a hypocrite, then allow me to be direct with you.” She used projection magic to create a sword, handing it over to Rider. Rider galloped towards Assassin, who had stealthily positioned himself behind a light post as he fired his arrows in fast sequence.

 

Imhotep ordered his mummy to attack Rider. Christina took a step backwards. Did she have the strength to see her beloved die, once again?

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 4: The Axe and the Swords

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Here it is! Fanfic #4! Right on time, as usual! 😀 Enjoy.

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“Christina, do you know this place?” Rudolph looked around for a familiar landmark. “Everything looks the same, God how I miss Canada.”

“Shush, I can’t detect anyone if you’re talking.”

“You’ve been at it for half an hour…”

She waved him off. “I am an exorcist, not a magus.”

“Geez, lighten up a little.”

“I can’t, one false move could mean the end of us.” She placed both middle and index fingers on the ground.

Cristina De La Rosa was an exorcist from Spain, though she was quite able to detect servants in their spiritual form, finding a magus was a whole new ball game. Rudolph Hunter was magus, though after living in Canada for so long, his skills were mostly crystal-based and sealing spells.

They were deep in Zone 1 of the city, a place plagued by robbers, prostitutes and people involved in illegal activities. Death was a common occurrence in this zone, not to mention kidnappings. Here is where a trio of masters would normally hang out.

“There, I can see the servants. There is an Assassin, a Caster and a Berserker. Esto no sera facil.”

“Could you repeat that last line, Miss Cristina?”

“I said that it would not be easy,” She scoffed. “Aren’t you bilingual?”

“Yes, English and French, thank you very much.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“I can handle that team’s Berserker, but seeing that a Caster servant is weak against close combat and an Assassin servant is in a disadvantage when faced head on, I’d say we’re evenly matched.”

“Ok, I’ll drag them out of that bar.” Cristina took out a few pages from what looked like an old bible. Saying a few words, the pages turned into sharp spears.  “Lanzas de la Divina Escritura!”

The spears flew through the windows, but their Berserker was able to block them all. Now that they had their attention, all that was left was to fight them. Three men wearing boots came out, their command seals were in the strangest of places: rather than in their hands they had a seal in a gun, a rosary and a belt buckle. They looked like drug traffickers, also known as Narcos around these places.

“Who is stupid enough to try and attack us in plain daylight?” One of the men called out. He wore a cowboy hat, two long pointed boots; a big belt buckle with a bull design, a dark shade and a golden rosary where he had his command seal. “Come Berserker, show’em who’s boss. Pinches putos.”

“What did he say?” Rudolph asked.

Cristina looked at him and smiled. “He called you gay.”

“Well, he’s mine. Damn son-of-a-bitch. Come forth, Berserker!” Rudolph shouted.  A large man, probably two stories tall appeared, wearing black lumber jack clothing, a blue fur coat, two large horns on his head, a bull’s skull on his left arm and a giant ax on this right arm. “This is where the fairytale ends and the terror begins!”

On the other side, a being materialized; he was tall, by normal human standards, wearing iron armor with fur pieces at the extremities. He had no helmet, his hair growing down to his shoulders, and a large sword on each hand.

The golden-rosary-wearing Narco walked into the middle of the street. “I will be merciful, run away or Beowulf will slaughter you all with his bare hands.”

“How stupid can this guy get? He told us the name of his own servant.”

“I know, Rudloph, be very careful. That’s Beowulf, meaning he’s not going to be easy.”

“Yeah, I have to look out for Nægling and Hrunting, the famous swords he used in the past to defeat the ogre Grendel.”

Beowulf rushed at Rudolph, his Berserker interceded. His swords crashed into Berserker’s ax. Berserker pushed Beowulf back with a powerful swing, forcing his master to call upon his servant’s Reality Marble. “Go, Beowulf, use Heorot!

Flames surrounded Beowulf, expanding and changing the street and surrounding sidewalks into a large hall. A vast variety of plates and cups lay on the floor; tables, walls, and a large throne at the end of the hall, this was Heorot. There on the throne was Beowulf with a large crown over his head and a cup of wine in one hand.

“Greetings, my brethren.” Beowulf invited us over. “Let us have a feast, may your blood be the wine to fill my cup and your flesh, the meat to fill my plate.”

“Why is he so intelligent? A Berserker isn’t as clever as other servants. They lose IQ for strength, endurance and power.” Rudolph took a few steps back as Berserker covered him.

“This is the power of Heorot! It grants my Berserker, for a limited time, a class change from a Berserker to a Saber.”

Rudolph had a big grin on his face. This was going to be a challenge. Oh, well, it’s time to get down to business! “Go, Berserker!”

Fate/Shattered False – Chapter 3: The Servants

Classes

This is the third part of the Fanfic series. So, without further ado… Chapter 3! Till next week, when I upload Chapter 4.

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We entered a small room, the door lock was rusty and the floor was stained with mud. There was a man sitting on a chair, smoking a pipe and reading today’s newspaper, and a strange looking person standing next to the kitchen sink. He held a bible in his hands, flipping delicately through each page, smiling to himself.

“Lucian, look who I found,” she called over to the man on the table.

“My, my, he doesn’t look like a magus.” He peaked from over the newspaper.

“I’m not sure what’s going on here.”

“Yes, well, allow me to introduce myself. They call me, The Count.”

“The Count?” I replied. Kukulkan stood next to me, buttoning her jacket. “Then, you must be a magus and that creepy looking guy is your servant, I presume.” By the looks of it, he must be either an assassin or rider class servant.

The girl walked past me and into one of the bedrooms. The guy standing near the sink stared at me. His body was covered in old tattered pieces of garment. He wore sandals and had a small knife hanging from the left side of his waist. His beard was short and unkempt, as his long hair and his long dirty fingernails. Now, more so than before, I was sure that he was an assassin class servant.

“Now that we are all here, how about we introduce ourselves properly,” The Count commented. “I’m Lucian Brandt and my servant is an Assassin Class Servant.”

“My name is Clare Covington, and my servant is a Saber,” the girl added to the conversation.

“Okay then, I guess it’s my turn. I’m Francisco Cabrera and my servant is a Caster.” I cleaned my glasses with my shirt.

“The odds seem to be in our favor. A saber for close range fighting, a caster for support, and an assassin for traps and sneak attacks,” Lucian added.

The Count explained that he was from Europe, and so was Saber’s former master, before she was murdered. Saber formed a pact with Clare, who happens to be nobody in the magi world. I was born from a normal family with no magical background, whatsoever. When I found on the internet some information on magic seals and the grail wars; I couldn’t wait to become part of such a legendary event. Truth be told, the only expert here was Lucian.

The last grail war took place in Romania, and now here in Guatemala though there was something different about this war. There were two other factions with servants who were fighting for something other than the grail. This grail war was put on hold by the Mage’s Association so as to address this issue.

As the hours passed, new members joined us, namely: Cristina De La Rosa and her rider servant, Abigail Mathews and her archer servant, Pietro Agnoli and his lancer servant and finally, Rudolph Hunter and his berserker servant. They were all prepared to fight each other for the grail, but today, we were to investigate the other two factions. After this was over, the seventh grail war could proceed.

Everyone was fighting for the Holy Grail. The Grail was an artifact of mystical, if not, divine properties that could grant you any wish. This artifact would not materialize into the real world unless six of the seven servants had been defeated.

“What have I gotten myself into, this time?”