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Nov 21st, 2014
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  1. "So," her Servant says in his deep, rough voice "this is Fuyuki."
  2.  
  3. He gazes out at the city from the top of the skyscraper, his long, dark hair blowing into his eyes from the strong winds. This doesn't seem to bother him, as he keeps staring at the same spot. She tries to follow his gaze to see what's so intriguing to him, but is unable to find anything.
  4.  
  5. "I once heared," he starts, as if reading the confusion on her face "that a great general must be able to survey both sides of a battle without moving his eyes."
  6.  
  7. He gives a chuckle.
  8.  
  9. "I don't know if that's true or not, but either way I spent years trying to master this trick."
  10.  
  11. That explains it. But still, such a thing is impressive. To be intricately aware of everything in your field of vision is comparable to mage craft.
  12.  
  13. "That must've been..." she speaks up, searching for the right word "painstaking?"
  14.  
  15. She's never been very good with words.
  16.  
  17. He gives a smile.
  18.  
  19. "Something like that."
  20.  
  21. He turns to face her, and once again she takes him in.
  22.  
  23. He's tall, especially when standing next to her. Her barely-average-for-her-age 150cm body looks especially small next to his 193cm frame.
  24.  
  25. He's scruffy. His hair is long and unkempt. A day's worth of stubble on his chin makes his midly square jaw seem even more so and the dark circles under his eyes seem to do the same for his gaunt cheeks.
  26.  
  27. He's powerful. With a blade longer than he is strapped diagonally across his back, two more at his right hip and another at his left he's certainly not lacking for arms. Dressed in a black, cloth coat whose hem reaches nearly to his ankles his shoulders and chest somehow seem broader than they should. Beneath the coat is armour, plain, black, loose chain and sparse plate covers his form, striking a balance between mobility and protection.
  28.  
  29. But more than his physical appearance, his mere presence speaks of a power greater than anything she's ever witnessed. It flows off him in waves, as if to proclaim to the stars 'I am here! I am your god!'
  30.  
  31. It made her more than a little nervous. If he were to decide she wasn't worthy, or if she did something to offend him she had no doubt in her mind that she would be dead before she'd even had a chance to use one of her command spells to stop him.
  32.  
  33. But despite that, she felt relaxed around him. His words were casual, without any of the pomp she'd expected from a heroic spirit. His near constant smile when he looked at her always seemed to have a teasing edge to it, as if daring her to say something that he could twist back on her in an effort to embarass her.
  34.  
  35. She'd fallen into that trap more than once in the hour since she'd summoned him.
  36.  
  37. "So, Saber," she asks as she looks back at the city "what do you think?"
  38.  
  39. "I think it needs a soundtrack." He says, and starts whistling. It's an unfamiliar, bitter-sweet melody, and despite the suddeness of his words, she thinks to herself that it rather suits the city, and the conflict they were about to dive into.
  40.  
  41. "Saber-"
  42.  
  43. The melody stops, and he turns his head suddenly, his relaxed pose forgotten as every muscle in his body tenses, ready to pounce on whatever being threatened his master.
  44.  
  45. "Stay here!" he commands, and then he's gone, leaping from the building at speeds fast enough to catapult him a kilometer out into the open air above Fuyuki.
  46.  
  47. She tries to follow him with her eyes, but within moments he's little more than a black speck in her vision.
  48.  
  49. There's a flash, the spark of steel grinding on steel out in the distance, and in an instant there's two more. She pours Od into her eyes, reinforcing them to the best of her abilities in an effort to make out what's happening. Even then she can just see the glint of moonlight off his blade.
  50.  
  51. He's floating in midair she realises- no. Not floating, standing. As if the nothingness beneath his feet were as solid as steel.
  52.  
  53. He's looking torwards another building, higher than the one she's standing on. She follows his gaze and notices a flash of pink, which darts upwards so fast that to try and follow it's ascent would surely break her neck. A split second later the spot where the speck sat is bathed in fire as a beam of light shoots from her servant, pushing through the glass and steel of the sky scraper and out the other side, lighting up the night sky and no doubt drawing the attention of most everyone in the city for a brief, glorious moment.
  54.  
  55. And then the black speck is gone, chasing after the pink speck at the same break neck speeds.
  56.  
  57.  
  58. He soars through the air, the gale force winds a blessing in that they keep his hair clear of his eyes.
  59.  
  60. He detaches the blade from his back a mere second before the first strike from his enemy hits. There's a flash as the blades meet in mid-air, forcing the two servants to push to the side in order to keep their momentum.
  61.  
  62. He's quick to counter, he swings his blade and turns his head torwards his enemy as they pass by eachother. The strike is deflected, as is the follow up and two more flashes grace the night sky.
  63.  
  64. He catches a flash of pink hair as she sails past.
  65.  
  66. She continues her path, coming to rest against one of the many skyscrapers of Fuyuki while he halts suddenly in mid air, conservation of momentum seeming to have no meaning to him as he stands tall in the air.
  67.  
  68. His hand rises, a word escapes his lips, and fire blooms across the sky.
  69.  
  70. She jumps, using the building's wall as a platform to reach higher – solid – ground.
  71.  
  72. He follows, rocketing through the air to reach the top mere moments after she does.
  73.  
  74. He meets her at the apex of her ascent and his sword swings and is deflected once again, the impact forcing her to land on the roof of the skyscraper, he touches down mere moments afterward.
  75.  
  76. They each take a moment to silently inspect their opponent.
  77.  
  78. She's tall and lean. Her hair is indeed a light pink and long, reaching down to below her shoulder blades.
  79.  
  80. Her face is beautiful, flawless. Blue eyes, full lips, a small nose and an intense expression etched into it.
  81.  
  82. A breastplate of polished silver covers her chest, below it is black leather, stretching across her stomach like a one-piece swimsuit but leaving her sides and back bare. Around her hips is what seems to be a loin cloth, the belt made of the same polished silver, thick strips of leather hanging from the front while a skirt of white feathers streams from the back. Her legs are clad in greaves of the same polished silver, but with gold features around the knees, ankles and heels.
  83.  
  84. Her shoulders bear silver pauldrons and her arms are encased in silver gauntlets. On her left arm is a buckler, and in her right is an affair of a sword. The blade is straight and double edged. Etched with markings that have no meaning other than decoration. A stange mechanism rests above the hilt.
  85.  
  86. She is beautiful, a warrior goddess torn from the fantasies of man.
  87.  
  88. He feels honoured to be the one charged with her destruction.
  89.  
  90. He examines her stance. It's firm, but leaves enough room for her to move suddenly if needed. From what she'd seen of his abilities, it was a good choice.
  91.  
  92. He wondered on her class for a moment, Assasin was out. If she had been Assasin he never would have seen her coming, and she'd more than likely be gone by now. The lack of a spear, lance or other mid-range weapon ruled out Lancer, and if she had been Archer or Caster she would've sinply attacked from range instead of closing the gap for her assualt.
  93.  
  94. The lack of incoherent rage and the fact the she was standing still at all ruled out Berserker.
  95.  
  96. He gives her a slight smile.
  97.  
  98. "Rider," he says in a friendly tone, as if he had just met an aquaintance he'd rather been hoping he'd see again.
  99.  
  100. For a second she scowls, before dropping her expression back into one of intense concentration.
  101.  
  102. "Saber," she answers back.
  103.  
  104. Her voice is smooth, strong and carried easily through the air.
  105.  
  106. A soldier's voice.
  107.  
  108. It suits her, he thinks.
  109.  
  110. There are no more words between them.
  111.  
  112. They charge and meet in the middle of the abandoned roof. Saber's great-sword is swung one-handed in a wide arc from the right, a moment before it hits the pink-haired Rider leaps into the air, sailing over the blade and twisting to slash at his unprotected back.
  113.  
  114. Another blade is drawn in his left and he spins to block her own, pushing it to the side. His momentum carries his still swinging great-sword to her and she has no choice but to block the crushing blow with the buckler on her arm.
  115.  
  116. The force of the blow sends her flying, she flips in the air once more and manages to land in a crouch. He's on her again as soon as she lands, the great-sword coming down at an angle. She dodges to the left, only to be faced with a slash from the other sword. Barely managing to raise her sword to defend the strike, she lands once more near the edge of the rooftop, only to be set upon once more as he swings the sword in his right hand at her side.
  117.  
  118. With no space to dodge backwards, she jumps once again, this time straight into the air, only to be met with a thrust from the other blade which pushes her back into the low wall that enclosed the roof top as she took it with her shield.
  119.  
  120. The great-sword comes down from above to cleave her head in two, and she rolls forward, feeling the warm sting of a cut as the shorter blade catches her in the back, drawing a long line of blood that drips down into the feathers of her skirt, staining some red.
  121.  
  122. As soon as she turns to face him he's on her once more, the greatsword coming from the right again, she ducks below the blade this time and raises her sword to stab at him, but is quickly halted by a boot being smashed into her face with super-human strength.
  123.  
  124. She rolls backwards, going with the blow in an effort to put space between them, but she can feel him on her heels even as she stands from her retreat.
  125.  
  126. 'This is useless,' she thinks as she's once more forced to dodge, once more forced to block.
  127.  
  128. He's relentless, giving her no respite, and more than that he simply out classes her. Whether through his unorthodox tactics or a simply higher agility parameter, she just can't keep up with him.
  129.  
  130. Dodge, parry, repeat.
  131.  
  132. She can't afford to block the greatsword, the sheer strength of the swing and the weight of the sword itself would send her flying, and she can't manage to dodge the smaller sword. That she has to block it means that the force of the blow puts her off balance, leaving her open for the attack from the greatsword.
  133.  
  134. The shorter blade catches her cheek.
  135.  
  136. The sheer repetitiveness of the tactic made it fundamentally flawed, there should be an opening, a weakness somewhere but if there was one, it keeps her too off-kilter to notice it.
  137.  
  138. Her buckler is torn from her arm due to a bad move.
  139.  
  140. Retreat isn't an option either, whatever power he held, whether a noble phantasm or some other ability, if that beam was enough to slice through a skyscraper with almost no effort then she'd hate to think what it would to if it caught her full on.
  141.  
  142. The pommel of the left sword catches her in the temple.
  143.  
  144. That he'd used it as his opening salvo in their fight probably meant that it wasn't too mana intensive either.
  145.  
  146. The blade slips across her side, drawing blood.
  147.  
  148. To add to that, every slash she had to block, every swing she had to dodge, every blow she took was slowly draining her stamina, while her enemy still looked fresh, steady and confident.
  149.  
  150. He charges yet again.
  151.  
  152. Was this really her fate? To die in disgrace, completely outclassed by her opponent, before the war had even begun?
  153.  
  154. She could see no other end to this night.
  155.  
  156. Unless... but no. Could she really summon her noble phantasm? Reveal her identity before the last Servant had even been summoned?
  157.  
  158. Better that than death.
  159.  
  160. She leaps suddenly, higher than before, and her foe follows, a manic grin on his face, ready to slice her in two the moment he got close enough.
  161.  
  162. She'd make sure he wouldn't have the chance.
  163.  
  164. Above her head, nestled between two fingers, she raises a small pink jewel.
  165.  
  166. The thing seems to radiate mana in waves, but her foe still does not stop, unconcerned by what she was doing, or in an attempt to stop her from doing it, she didn't know. Either way, it didn't matter.
  167.  
  168. "Odin!" she cries, and the jewel pulses once, before shattering, the shards shooting forward to form a circle before her. Waves of mana pulse inward, and a strange, intricate runic circle forms.
  169.  
  170. She bursts through the circle, and it shatters like glass. As she passes through the pink haze left by the jewel a shape forms beneath her. That of a glorious white horse, clad in armor of jade green, it's legs encased in clock-work mechanisms, the thing is monsterous in size, the tip of it's head nearly twice her height.
  171.  
  172. In her hands were no longer a sword and shield, but instead two massive gold and grey sabers had formed, the edges jagged and serrated, the tips resembling shruikens.
  173.  
  174. She charges through the air on her steed to crush her enemy, assured in her victory now that she had unleashed her Noble Phantasm.
  175.  
  176. The assurance, confidence, the pride and the superiority is crushed as her opponent utters one word.
  177.  
  178. "Diana!"
  179.  
  180. In the roaring whirlwind of power left beind by her summoning, the word should have been inaudiable, even to her enhanced hearing. But she heard it, just as surely as every being in Fuyuki heard it.
  181.  
  182. She sees him coming, a look of sadistic, childish glee in his eyes, and then she feels Odin shake beneath her.
  183.  
  184. An agonized roar leeaves her steed's throat as the blade cut through it's hide as if it were paper, and they plummet to the ground.
  185.  
  186. The landing is hard, the concrete cracks and shatters as Odin's weight falls upon it, the pink-haired woman landing hard beside him, and still he thrashes. Agony lacing his impossibly loud whinnies as he fades into the pink mist he had been summoned from.
  187.  
  188. Saber lands behind her, the mere rustle of his coat the only signal she recieved.
  189.  
  190. "Tch," he clicks his tongue at her "you made me use Diana. I will say, you had me worried there for a moment."
  191.  
  192. "What-" she makes to ask as she pushes herself to a kneeling position.
  193.  
  194. "-was that?" He finishes for her.
  195.  
  196. He sticks the greatsword into the concrete deep enough that the pommel reaches to just below his chest.
  197.  
  198. "That," he continued as he places his hands on the pommel, leaning forward to place his chin on his knuckles "was her Noble Phantasm."
  199.  
  200. "You see" he tilts his head to the side, his voice taking on a lecturing tone "she once thought that she was immortal.That she would last forever. It was only in her final moments, as her son drove a blade through her chest and locked his lips with her's, that she realised the truth."
  201.  
  202. He rises, and lifts his finger to eye level before continuing, his voice as if he were imparting the secrets of the universe to a small child.
  203.  
  204. "Everyone dies."
  205.  
  206. He chuckles lightly.
  207.  
  208. "Definitely the most poetic of my Noble Phantasms."
  209.  
  210. He sighes slightly and shakes his head.
  211.  
  212. "The others are more impressive, true. But, nothing really comes close to a weapon with a story behind it."
  213.  
  214. She had no idea what to say to that, so she stood, arms at her side, waiting for him to give the final blow.
  215.  
  216. It's useless, she knows. She has no hope of beating him. After the drain of summoning and then having her Noble Phantasm destroyed, she doubts she could summon the strength to dodge even if she tried.
  217.  
  218. It's useless.
  219.  
  220. He gives a sad smile, as if to say he was sorry it had come to this.
  221.  
  222. And then he draws another sword, it's black as night, jagged and sharp.
  223.  
  224. It has a short hilt just large enough for one of his hands, protusions that seemed to make up a cross-guard and jagged spikes at the end that serve as a pommel. It's blade is single edged, broad in places and narrow in others, long as the his leg , and curved inward ever so slightly.
  225.  
  226. It is a sword that seemed to have formed from nothing more than the earth's wimsy.
  227.  
  228. "You know what someone once told me about this blade?" He asks her in rhetoric.
  229.  
  230. "Don't feed it."
  231.  
  232. He shrugs.
  233.  
  234. "I never was very good at following advice," he says as he moves to end her life.
  235.  
  236. And then he stopps, frowns, turns his head to the side, and swears.
  237.  
  238. He looks back at her, something like longing in his gaze.
  239.  
  240. "I do hope we meet again."
  241.  
  242. And then he's gone, and the woman collapses to her knees.
  243.  
  244. What had that been?
  245.  
  246. It didn't matter, she needed to get back to her master and inform them of what this simple scouting mission had turned into.
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