Chapter Text
When it came to magecraft, preparation, knowledge, tools, and ingredients were key. If any of those aspects were missing or tampered with, much could go awry. Worst case scenario, they could be stolen and used, diluting the resulting mystery and weakening its effects. A location was necessary to store and retain knowledge, tools and ingredients, as well as a preparation ground for honing and utilizing mysteries and magecraft. Though some areas were more ideal than others, any mage worth their salt could create a workshop anywhere they wished so long as it met their standards.
Medea’s workshop was no exception. ‘A man’s home is his castle’, as the saying goes. This went doubly true for a magus’s workshop, and especially in the Caster’s case. While it had been an unused storage room in the Golden Hind, it had now been fortified, both physically and magically, both within and without. It was also the foundation of the various enchantments set around the ship, strengthening it against all manner of harm. Some of the sailors, superstitious as usual, were at first against her work, but after seeing her protections from the storm and the wyverns, they changed their tune.
For now, the witch was alone within as she carefully analyzed the treasures the expedition team brought back: the chest filled with uncut gems and the hippocampus figurine. Both of them were above a circle of her own creation, its lines glowing and glimmering in patterns only she could read and decipher. It hadn’t been easy to part them from Drake, but once she mentioned the possibility of curses – especially given the gigantic swarm of wyverns they had set off – the captain reluctantly handed them over.
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly upward humorlessly. When handled correctly, greed made even the most stubborn people surprisingly pliable. A lesson she had long since learned.
Another flicker of turquoise from the circle flashed, causing her to huff quietly in mild annoyance. Poseidon’s power lingered strongly in these artifacts. Even when she was trying to look for other data it interfered with her analyses, forcing her to repeat a few incantations. She wouldn’t be surprised if these were created by a particularly powerful priest – or perhaps by the god himself.
She moved around, muttering another incantation under her breath to modify her circle slightly, passing by a pair of models that stood on a nearby table. Though they were the same at first glance, a trained eye would see that one of them had more imperfections: pauldrons placed ever so slightly asymmetrically, a hint of glue leaking out of the joints, and other such flaws. The other was immaculate, with not a piece out of place.
She stole a quick glance at the results of her first lesson with her feline Master. Though there was no way to teach him either her magecraft or her alchemy, he was a rather singular being. Theories brewed in her mind, ones that she could only test indirectly, but having him imagine and structure himself much like a model would be a good first step towards them. It was a rather simple yet invigorating lesson, one she enjoyed more than she expected. There were benefits to indirect research that direct methods wouldn’t be able to provide.
Besides, while a dissection would reveal answers more directly, she had no interest in causing any undue harm. He was reasonable enough to justify staying her hand. And yet, as it often did, her considerations of the more straightforward master brought to mind the far more inscrutable one.
Ren Amamiya… had proved infuriatingly enigmatic, despite his apparent openness. He clearly was no stranger to deception, yet it was difficult to identify any manipulative intent within his actions. He was strong for a human of his age and era, bearing powers dangerous even to Servants, yet inexperienced with the true carnage of the battlefield and the finer workings of magecraft.
Medea sighed as she brushed the fin-like protrusions of the hippocampus figurine. It was getting harder by the day to piece together the puzzle. Every time she thought she felt she was on track to figuring him out, he pulled out another surprise that forced her to reevaluate. While there was the option of simply giving up on the matter entirely and simply focus on being a Servant, the increasingly weighty fact that all of Chaldea seemingly orbited around him made that ultimately unfeasible.
A wave of her hand caused the circle underneath to shift, the lines radiating different patterns as it did so. Maintaining a professional distance was now untenable, especially after that frankly ridiculous stunt he had pulled with his escape. Measures needed to be taken, both to slake her curiosity and evaluate more properly her Masters.
As such, Medea had chosen to face the problem directly. She had sent out an invitation to both of her masters, to meet her and discuss their magecraft’s inner workings. She extended her expertise while giving herself an avenue to look into their origins - extending an olive branch, as the saying she’d heard from the redheaded master went.
… If the witch was being a bit more honest, she might’ve even been willing to think about the burning spark of curiosity and excitement she felt in witnessing the sheer bizarreness of her Master’s magecraft. Not necessarily in its use or principles, but that she couldn’t possibly identify what the foundation was for the life of her. As a student of Hecate, there were few horizons of magecraft she had not explored. Even then, she could easily understand the concepts and learn them within a heartbeat should she dedicate even a modicum of her focus.
All told, the prospect of something truly new and unknown to her was nothing short of tantalizing, despite her best efforts towards pretending she wasn’t still that young, excitable princess who hung off Hecate’s every word.
A shift in her bounded field caught her attention, brushing aside her more treacherous thoughts. Right - she had requested the presence of her Masters half an hour prior. It would be her first step towards her shift in stance regarding them. Admittedly, a closer working relationship was one she was both familiar and unfamiliar with as a Servant - most magi often wished to keep their familiars at a considerable distance - but as the two had proven many times already, they weren’t most magi.
Despite some trepidation, a measure of curiosity seeped in as well. How would all this turn out, she wondered.
A soft knock echoed from the door. She muttered another quick incantation to more clearly transmit her voice. “I hadn’t expected you so quickly, Masters,” she noted.
“If you’re calling, we thought it might be something important,” Ren replied. “We brought you dinner too – you’ve been working for a while, after all. Thought you might be hungry!”
The witch let out a breath of mild exasperation. They had been told time and time again that Servants didn’t require sustenance, but such admonishments always fell on deaf ears. And at this point, she observed them well enough to know they would pester her until she partook.
Still, she couldn’t get too annoyed – hospitality had always been rather important among her people, and at the very least she could appreciate it to some degree.
With a wave of her hand, she hid some of her more sensitive works before pointing at the door. The bounded field shifted as the door lock clicked open. “Enter then,” she replied as she did her utmost to mask her slight annoyance.
She turned back to her work as her Masters entered behind her. The aroma of fish swiftly filled the room, admittedly stirring up a small appetite – and a few past memories she preferred to have kept hidden. “We brought you some grilled halibut,” Morgana announced. “With some salad on the side! We weren’t sure if you wanted rum or ale, so we brought you a bottle of water instead!”
“… your thoughtfulness is appreciated,” Medea murmured in quiet thanks, watching as they set it down on a nearby empty table. “I do not recall halibut being native to the waters here, however.”
“That’s what the sailors were saying too,” Ren acknowledged. “They were puzzled over what kind of fish they had caught. I’m guessing the singularity just kind of screwed the local marine life up. We should probably be thankful we didn’t fish up a sea monster or something.” Then he paused. “Actually, how do you think they would taste?” he wondered. “Like tuna, maybe?”
Morgana groaned. “I wish they would,” he complained. “I haven’t had fatty tuna in forever! This is the second time I’ve been on the sea and there hasn’t even been a bit of it! You’d think we’d at least see them by now!”
The Phantom Thief chuckled. “We still have plenty of time,” he reassured his best friend. “Maybe we’ll come across some tuna on the way here.” The catlike being huffed in response, though the twitch of his ears indicated his hope reigniting.
Turning to Medea, he nodded over to the floating treasures. “How are we looking?” he asked.
The witch glanced over. “These artifacts bear a weighty portion of Poseidon’s power,” she explained. “It is possible either a high-ranking priest or the god himself created them. They also seem to be bound by protective mysteries, which is standard for such treasures.”
“However, there is an underlying mystery underneath that I am currently determining. I cannot tell when I shall be finished, but I will inform you of my findings once they are more concrete.”
“Poseidon, huh?” Ren mused as he pondered the artifacts. The Caster wondered what thoughts ran through the boy’s head. He stared at them as though his own paltry skills in magecraft would be able to make a difference.
Medea mentally sighed as she bit back her cynicism, just for a moment. There have been cases when a novice brought in a fresh or alternate perspective that veterans, with their more rigid mindsets and tried-and-tested methods, might not have considered. Perhaps, despite his blatant ignorance, that could be the case here.
“So, what’d you call us for?” Morgana cut in, getting to the point of the matter. “I don’t think this is a social call.”
Medea nodded in confirmation. “There are a few matters I wish to check,” she explained. “First, the magecraft both of you utilize have a common basis: your “personas”. If you are amenable, I wish to analyze them myself to see if there are threads we can use to further your own studies.”
The catlike being blinked several times. “Er, El-Melloi did something similar and he couldn’t find anything,” he slowly pointed out.
“He did with his own methods,” she acknowledged. “I have a few methods of my own I wish to use, and a different basis I wish to verify. Would that suffice for you, Masters?”
Ren and Morgana looked at one another, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, the former turned back to the Caster and nodded. “Works for me,” he agreed. “Just let us know what you need and we’ll do what we can.”
“Of course,” the witch acknowledged. She hadn’t missed the interaction between the two, particularly how the feline relied on Ren making the final call despite his own misgivings about the situation. It was a bond of mutual trust between the two – one who trusted their leader to make the right decision, and one who bore that trust and weight that it implied.
It was… different than with the Argonauts. There, the crew followed Jason mainly because he had an ambition and they would be rewarded well for it. And when times truly called, the man genuinely could be an effective leader. A shame those times were too few and far in between.
For a brief moment, she evaluated if that was the ultimate goal of her approach with her Masters. A harmonious equilibrium of commander and actor.
She didn’t like the taste of the idea, but could hardly dismiss it either.
This complicated her expectations.
“The other matter I wished to speak of was the potion,” she continued, turning to Ren. “You had used the potion for your escape, did you not? If you are fit to speak of it, please inform me of its effectiveness and attributes.” As she spoke, a roll of papyrus unfurled itself on a nearby table, ready to record as necessary.
Ren crossed his arms as he recalled its effects. “My first impression was that it warmed me up considerably,” he mused. “It was a good kind of warmth, though just at the border of being uncomfortable. After that, most of my muscle aches and pains seem to disappear. My circuits also cooled down a lot too and my body felt a lot lighter. As for my mind…”
Medea silently listened. As Ren talked, his words appeared on the papyrus, with further annotations and notes depending on the Caster’s thoughts. Already, based on the feedback she was receiving, she was considering what kind of modifications she could make with the potion. There were many factors she could change in their preparations. Perhaps under better trial conditions…
She would have to speak with Da Vinci as well… and that doctor and erstwhile director Romani Archaman. While the latter annoyed her somewhat, it wouldn’t do anymore to simply dismiss the medical professional of Chaldea. It was another layer of bureaucracy, but if it needed to be done, so be it.
“Interesting,” she murmured in consideration. “You have given me much valuable data, Master. I thank you. If there aren’t any pronounced side effects, then it is best that Masters Ritsuka and Morgana keep their own vials in case of emergency. I might be able to brew you another potion if I procure the necessary ingredients and materials from Chaldea, though it would take time.”
Ren gave an easy smile. “If it’s possible, then that’d be great,” he accepted gratefully. “Just the prototype worked wonders, let alone what improvements you can cook up. I’ll take whatever you can give me.”
Medea nodded, more easily than she expected. The hardest part of attempting to figure out her master, she had learned, was trying to decipher his genuine truth beneath his earnestness. He appeared to possess the remarkable ability to act with full honesty, even in his intentions, while never expressing the totality of himself.
The possibility she was simply being paranoid had crossed her mind, but the witch of betrayal hadn’t been one before to disregard negative gut instincts anymore.
After all, that same look in his eyes was still there. Analytical, piercing, like it was taking in every last speck of detail about her to paint a picture within his mind. She did not like it, all the more because she couldn’t figure out why.
But none of that changed the reality of the situation. Keeping her distance was not an option anymore, which meant her only choice was to be wholehearted in her cooperation, and to understand him better, first. A bizarre kind of competition, but one she had no intention to back down from. It helped that he was at least amicable.
“Of course,” she replied readily. “Now, I must inquire about your magecraft, Master. Shapeshifting and transformations aren’t unheard of, but according to both you and Siegfried, that is not what you have achieved. Are you able to replicate the mystery even now?”
The Phantom Thief’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before grinning again. “Yeesh, and I just came back too,” he groaned out in mock exhaustion. “You’re certainly a real taskmaster, Medea.”
The Caster’s eye twitched slightly underneath her hood. “I apologize if I am overstepping my boundaries-“ she began.
“Only joking,” Ren quickly replied. “It’s a good question – let’s see if I can do it again. With something different this time.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes again and focused. The witch could sense her Master’s magic circuits activating as he prepared his mystery while Morgana observed both with trepidation and wonder.
‘Masks of my soul,’ he quietly intoned. ‘Become my wings of rebellion!’
Blue flames erupted and consumed his hands, causing the feline Master to cry out in surprise and shock. Medea didn’t react, taking neither a step forward or backward as she watched in rapt attention. These were the same flames that the boy conjured every time he utilized his familiars – his ‘personas’, as he had called them.
She frowned slightly in consideration. It seemed to be a form of projection – the lack of tangible materials utilized for creation combined with the comparatively absurd magical energy upkeep, as the mage in question attempted to maintain their unreal creation against the world’s decree of its unreality, were evident. She had seen it whenever either Ren or Morgana took to the fray. They were powerful and versatile – she hadn’t forgotten Morgana’s contributions and prowess in their hunt against the bat.
It was also, bluntly speaking, an incredibly sloppy utilization: Far too costly especially with repeated manifestations. Any magus worth their salt would’ve simply constructed their familiars with regular materials to minimize energy expenditure. The fact that neither of them had up to this point only proved her Masters weren’t trained in the slightest. Were it not for their powers, she would’ve easily mistaken them for being entirely magically ignorant.
However, that only further confused her – bearing intricate blueprints of familiars with this level of power and complexity within one’s self, enough detail to project them on a practical level, would be the project of an illustrious magi family. One that would’ve long ago ironed out such issues.
And yet, there was absolutely no sign of the education that should’ve come with that kind of history. Her Masters are apparently simply cobbling together their magecraft with what scraps of knowledge they were taught here. So ultimately, what were the foundations of their magecraft? Where did her Masters find and encapsulate the blueprints of so many powerful beings?
Her Masters were an enigma indeed. At present, she couldn’t tell if she enjoyed that or not.
“Are those Arsene’s claws?!” Morgana gasped, his eyes almost bulging out of his head in excitement. “So it’s not just his wings you can replicate, but any part of him?! That’s so cool!”
Ren grinned in response as he looked at his changed appendages admiringly. “I haven’t tried with any of my other personas yet,” he admitted. “I just went with Arsene for now since he’s the most familiar. I’m glad it worked – now I can fly in the real world without using my personas, and who knows what else? Maybe I should try swimming with Kelpie?”
The Phantom Thief turned to Medea and raised his claws. “What do you think?” he asked. “Neat, right?”
The Caster was silent for a moment as she looked them over with a critical eye. The projection was being actuated via making them extensions of his physical body, it seemed. It was a crude solution at best, but it answered the most pressing issues of magical energy cost in exchange for limited output. Interesting…
“Rudimentary, but it shall suffice,” she concluded. “It certainly is a good method to possess in conjunction with your previous.”
“Seems like it,” Ren agreed. “Now I don’t have to worry about collapsing from exhaustion or my circuits burning me all the time again.” Then he had a small idea. “I don’t suppose you have anything I can try these on real quick?”
Medea paused. Despite herself, a childish curiosity began again to enter the forefront of her mind. Instead of directly answering, she created a piece of wood in her hand and tossed it into the air. The Phantom Thief lashed out with his claws – and several cleanly cut pieces fell onto the deck before dissipating back into mana.
He whistled in admiration. “Definitely not bad,” he commented. He glanced back at the claws and focused. With a flash of blue flames they vanished, leaving Ren’s hands normal once more.
“I’m going to need more practice with this,” he mused. “Wanna come with, Mona? With any luck, you can do it too.”
There were practically stars in Morgana’s eyes. The witch frowned again, though more in consideration this time. It was clear that both her Masters used similar types of magecraft, bearing blueprints of incredibly powerful familiars within them. If the catlike being could also perform a similar form of projection, then that would confirm her theory that their magecraft shared a similar if not the same foundation.
The witch mentally compiled what knowledge she had about her two Masters, both direct and indirect. The two both bore magic crests, though she had never had the chance to analyze them. Asking was a fool’s errand - she was all but certain to be rebuffed at any such request (or at least, she hoped her Masters had that modicum of sense). No magi would ever acquiesce to such an invasive request.
There was the possibility it was some form of family ritual: a division of a magic crest between an heir and their bound familiar. It made sense - even just the analysis she had previously performed informed her that Morgana wasn’t a merely cat given sapience. It would be more accurate to describe him as a mass of raw base particles and energy that just so happened to be feline shaped. If Ren’s mystic bloodline specialized in familiar creation, then it wasn’t an impossible theory.
Still, something about that line of thought irked her - like she was close yet so very far from the truth. Ultimately, she had neither evidence nor data to prove or disprove her theories. For the time being, she filed it away in her mind. Underneath her hood, she glanced in the direction of the models the two made. If anything, she supposed that with the feline’s rather malleable body structure, it was more than possible he would easily surpass the boy in this magecraft. This would be interesting to observe.
“Want to come with us, Medea?” Ren asked, turning towards her again. “We could definitely use your input for any practice or experimentation.”
Even Medea had to mentally admit, that surprised her a touch. An was an opportunity to observe their unique magecraft more closely…
There was only so much she could glean from distant observation and limited interactions. This would most likely be a far more fruitful avenue of research and development, both for her and for her Masters. The more she thought about it, the more certain her choice became.
Trust the boy to make such a tempting offer. No wonder why he was at the center of this entire web.
“Unfortunately, while my current tasks demand my attention,” she began politely as she nodded over to the artifacts still suspended over the circles. “Perhaps tomorrow we can, if that is amenable to you?”
Both Ren’s and Morgana’s eyes widened with surprise, then the former nodded. “Tomorrow works,” he agreed quickly. “In that case, we’ll hold off on experimenting for now. Don’t think you wanna miss out on it.”
“The consideration is appreciated,” the witch replied with a small nod of gratitude. “If you wish, my Master, I could aid you in the further development of this branch of your magecraft. While currently it is rather rudimentary, I believe there is potential here that can be explored - and given our circumstances, more tools in one’s arsenal rarely goes amiss.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Morgana admitted. “Though I’m guessing you’re gonna want knowledge of our own magecraft too?”
Medea considered her answer for a brief moment, then came to a decision. The catlike being had said trust could only be fostered by first granting it, hence why she received the silphium seeds. She would do the same here. “I do,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Your magecraft has garnered my curiosity, and there are theories and questions I wish to test and answer. As such, I am willing to aid you in its development. I will not deny it is partially for my own interests, but I am confident it will be a fruitful avenue of inquiry at the very least.”
The Phantom Thief broke out into a chuckle, causing the Caster to frown slightly in consternation and confusion. “Is there something amusing?” she asked, a small edge creeping into her tone.
“Just the way you phrased that, sorry,” Ren answered as he stilled his mirth. “I’d honestly be more concerned if you were doing it solely out of altruism than for your own goals. But thanks for at least being forthright with us about it. In that case, we’ll be counting on your input and suggestions from now on, Medea. I’m looking forward to it.”
“As am I,” the witch acknowledged. After the words left her mouth, there was a feeling of warmth, ever so slight, blossoming from within her. She dismissed the sensation - as much as she wished to deny it, there was still that girl within her that sought validation, it seemed. “Now, I believe that settles current matters. I should return to my duties.”
Ren nodded. “Sounds good,” he replied. “Morgana, anything you need to talk about?”
“I’m good here,” the catlike being answered with a shake of his considerable head. “Just make sure you eat before it gets cold, Medea! Cooked fish isn’t exactly great left out like that!”
“I intend to,” Medea confirmed. “In that case, I bid you a good evening, my Masters.” She watched impassively as they walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. Once it shut, she shifted her bounded fields once more, heralded by the faint click of the lock sliding back into place. A moment later, it was quiet within save for the spark of magecraft once more.
Medea heaved a sigh. Her Masters were infuriatingly puzzling, to put it mildly. From their magecraft to their personalities to the breadth of their knowledge, they were as far removed from magi as possible. Were they simply completely ignorant of their origins as magi? It wasn’t unheard of – in that grail war with Saber, the king’s Master had been as infuriatingly ignorant. It made it near child’s play to capture his command seals for herself, various interferences notwithstanding.
On further reflection, no. At least Saber’s Master had the scantest knowledge of magecraft. These two didn’t even have that.
Reaching up, she lowered her hood, allowing her pale blue hair to cascade down behind her as she felt the cool air of the hold splash up against her forehead and pointed ears. What would Souichirou have thought of them, she wondered. He always had a unique read of people, one that was similar yet distinct from her own. Would he have some insight she possibly might have missed? Times like these were when she missed his counsel and company the most.
In the meantime, a scent reached her nose. Or rather, one that had been there for a while but she put it out of her mind until now. Deciding to at least humor her Masters, she walked over to the plate of dinner sitting there. Taking a fork, she cut into the piece of halibut and took a bite. It was the savory, if a touch bland – not enough herbs and spices that she was accustomed to. Still, it was adequate for a sea fare.
The Caster drummed her fingers on the table as she chewed pensively. Maybe she should introduce a few of the herbs at least. There was much one could do here…
Then the circle sparked slightly. Turning, she glared in irritation at Poseidon’s energy once more leaking into her readings… which morphed into curiosity as it seemed to be trailing off on something. A threadlike wisp of light that seemed to trail off into the distance, past the ship’s hold. Reaching up, she raised her hood as for the first time in the evening, a small smile curled her lips.
How intriguing.
As Ren and Morgana walked away from Medea’s room, the former couldn’t help but chuckle, causing the catlike being to glance his way. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
The Phantom Thief grinned down at his best friend. “She’s a Magician arcana, like you,” he answered. “Thought it was kinda funny.”
Morgana blinked several times, then joined in his friend’s mirth. He was right - it was funny.
David yawned as he lounged in the crow’s nest. The timber beneath him creaked and groaned as the ship sailed, a sound that became almost as soothing as a lullaby. A sea breeze blew past, playfully tussling his green hair while carrying the scent of brine. He could hear the crew below, their shouts indistinct as they carried out their tasks or hollered out whatever conversation they had before. While loud and raucous, it became a surprisingly pleasant hum when he was in the distance. It was simply business as usual.
He took an idle glance at his surroundings. Even with the darkening skies, he could still see clearly around him thanks to his supernatural vision. The seas were calm and smooth, and the skies were clear for miles around. Nor was there anything that could present itself as a threat both above or below the surface that he could see. It was shaping up to be a rather quiet, relaxing night. Maybe he could grab some dinner and a drink back on the deck, then afterward play a tune or two. It was always a decent way to pass an evening on the ship.
At least, that was what he initially planned.
“I thought my watch was going to be a rather lonely one, with Ren busy recovering,” he commented. “But I’m always pleasantly surprised to have some company – especially from a lovely lady.” He turned with a smile to a somewhat anxious looking Saint Martha. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Martha opened her mouth, hesitated, closed it, then opened it again. “You said your name was David, correct?” she asked. “And you wield a sling. If you are the same David that I believe you are, then… I would appreciate some guidance about a certain matter.”
The Archer blinked in surprise before turning fully toward her. The name Martha hadn’t escaped him, nor had her Tarrasque. If she wished to speak with him seriously, then it would be irresponsible not to hear her out - especially one as devoted as she was. “Speak then,” he replied, his tone warm and reassuring. “What is it that troubles you?”
The Rider leaned against the side of the crow’s nest, trying to figure out how to word it. “Are you aware of the… beings our Masters use?” she asked. “Particularly Ren’s?”
“I am aware of them, yes,” David answered, withholding a smirk as he recalled both the dragon and the phoenix he had summoned back in the storm. It was incredibly hard to miss even amidst the chaos. “Is there something about them you find disturbing?”
The saint hesitated, causing the Archer to brace himself. Magecraft was many things, but ‘moral’ was often an incredibly distant definition for them. His first thought was that it was something heinous before he discarded it. Martha would likely never be the Servant of such abhorrent Masters – at least, not as she was. Nor did Ren or Morgana seem like the type of people to condone, let alone commit, such acts. No, that wasn’t the issue. Perhaps it was-
“They can summon all manner of beings depending on need,” she slowly explained, her finger twiddling with a hem of her robe. “Including that of angels and demons. I have even borne witness to him summoning Satan twice, albeit once in a… different form than I am familiar with.”
David relaxed slightly, though he was still wary. “As we both know, the devil can take many different guises,” he replied. “What form did he take under Ren’s control?”
Martha drew in a breath to compose herself. “It was a monstrous figure, hideous to behold,” she recounted, memories of the France singularity flashing through her mind. “Great, skeletal, serpentine, and blue. Incredibly blue. It used powerful ice magecraft as it bore a face full of wrath and power. It was a terrifying spectacle, and yet…”
She paused, lost in thought. “What else?” the shepherd asked gently.
“… it didn’t feel like the adversary,” the saint continued in a low voice. “It wasn’t the great enemy He had told us about. Its bearing, while fierce, felt more like sternness than cruelty. Its power, though under Ren’s command, felt more like admonishments than torture. This… the Satan he had created wasn’t an enemy. Rather, he felt like… well, an angel. One that judged and punished sinners under His will. It’s certainly not something I expected and I’ll admit, it makes me uneasy.”
The Archer nodded in consideration. During his time, that was how Satan had been depicted: An angel still under His grace, not cruel but merciless as he visited retribution on sinners. The depiction of him as the devil came well after his time. “You said you had seen him twice,” he pointed out. “What of the other time?”
The Rider stiffened. “That time… was the one I was more familiar with,” she whispered. “A great being, powerful, beautiful, and terrible. With dark gray skin like soot, three pairs of great, demonic wings, and horns that curled out of its head. In terms of appearance, it was unfamiliar as was its name – Lucifer, I believe Ren called it. But I can’t forget the presence and malevolence it emanated. That one truly was the devil.”
The shepherd frowned in consideration at Martha’s description. “Are you worried that he might fall to temptation?” David asked evenly, reclining against the wooden wall of the crow’s nest. “You said that he can summon angels as well. Does that not alleviate matters?”
The saint quickly shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m worried about,” she hurriedly corrected. “Rather… ugh, how do I word this properly?” She shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the proper words. Already she had been worried about acting like a fool in front of David, and now compounded with everything else, she was at a loss for words.
The shepherd, seeing Martha fret, reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. As the Rider froze at the touch, he smiled warmly. “Peace,” he reassured her. “Whatever your troubles may be, I will hear you and guide you through as best I can. So please, take a deep breath. I shall wait.”
Martha blinked several times, then nodded. “Y-yes, of course,” she stammered slightly. “Forgive me for being so unsightly.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” the Archer brushed off. “Speak when you are ready.”
She took a deep breath as she organized her thoughts. “What he summons,” she elaborated. “Are not the actual beings. From what he has told me, they are pieces of his soul, each one corresponding with the identity of the being? So there’s a bit of his soul that represents Satan, another that represents that phoenix he summoned back in the storm, and I presume it’s the same for the other angels and demons he summons? It’s… not something I understand too well, admittedly.”
The saint sighed in frustration, not noticing David stiffen at her explanation. “I just don’t rightly know how to treat someone who can embody all these beings, and with such ease,” she grumbled, running a hand through her long purple hair. “It’s rather frustrating, to be honest.”
David was silent, staring out over the sea. His gaze seemed far away, as though pondering something of great importance. They sat in silence, with only the clamor of the deck and the occasional sea breeze whistling by as the Rider’s discomfort grew. “I-I’m sorry, I realize my concerns must be foolish-“ she stammered out as she began bowing.
“What? No, of course not!” the shepherd hurriedly replied, immediately seizing her shoulder to stop her. “Please forgive me. My thoughts were elsewhere.”
Smiling warmly, he sat back and relaxed again at the edge of the nest. “Tell me, Martha – what do you think of your Masters?” he asked.
Martha’s eyes widened, then pondered. “… They are in a situation that demands so much from them,” she murmured. “Yet despite their circumstances, they don’t give up nor do they despair. They also treat everyone well, be they Servants or human. They even feed us despite us explaining multiple times we don’t need it.”
David couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Morgana in particular had been insistent on that front. “So do you believe they are evil?” he asked. “Or rather, do you believe they listen to the evil that dwells within their souls?”
The saint opened her mouth slightly, then firmly shook her head. “I do not believe so,” she answered. “Rather, they seem to use both angels and demons, as well as the other beings, as more tools than anything else.”
The shepherd nodded. “It would seem so,” he agreed. “And are tools by themselves necessarily evil? Or is it the intent wielding them that’s more important?”
Martha was silent as she considered, then relaxed slightly. “You speak truly,” she acknowledged. “Indeed, it is the intent that is more important. And thus far, my Masters have acted with integrity and kindness, no matter what beings they call forth.”
Smiling, the Archer nodded. “Much dwells in the heart of humanity,” he added. “Including evil. What ultimately matters is what is done with it all – whether we heed them, ignore them, or even utilize them. It is a most precious gift from our Lord, wouldn’t you agree?”
The saint smiled. “Yes, you are right,” she agreed. “It is a lesson I should have learned long ago. I apologize that you must remind me.”
David shook his head. “No need to apologize,” he reassured her. “Even the wisest need reminders from time to time. Do what your heart bids you, and He will assuredly guide your hand. May you be blessed.”
“And you,” Martha replied. “Thank you for hearing me out. And I must say, it is a tremendous honor being able to speak with you. I’ve read and heard many stories of your feats and devotion. To be able to meet in person like this, even as ephemeral existences such as ours, is far more than I could ask for.”
The Archer laughed heartily. “No, no, you do me too much honor, Martha,” he easily brushed off. “I’m naught but a humble shepherd, now a lookout for the Golden Hind. If you truly wish to commemorate the occasion, however, perhaps you can get some drinks from below? A celebration is nothing without a good toast, after all.”
The saint blinked several times, then nodded. “Of course!” she enthusiastically agreed. “Please, allow me one moment. I’ll try to find liquor worthy of the occasion.”
“Some of the normal drink will suffice,” David remarked with a grin. “But I won’t say no to good liquor. I’ll leave the choice up to you.”
“Of course,” the Rider replied. She turned around and almost ran off the crow’s nest, soon vanishing into golden light as she went for drinks. The shepherd could only chuckle to himself as he watched her leave. An enthusiastic young woman to be sure, but a compassionate and kind one. Most of his advice had been simple reminders at most – she would be just fine.
As he turned away to look back over the sea, his smile turned into a frown of consternation. What Martha had told him was rather troubling, however. Taking pieces of one’s soul and granting them identities was a tremendous feat of compartmentalization, visualization, and construction. Doing it once was already exceptional, let alone two or three times. Ren, however, had a considerable number of them – all with different and distinct identities, powers, and specialties.
The Archer tapped the edge of the nest as he pondered. He was far from a magus in either knowledge or lifestyle, yet he knew some things here and there. Enough to know that a modern magus would have an incredibly difficult time achieving such a feat by themselves, if at all. Most likely they would need to specialize and call upon higher powers in order to succeed, but who? The Age of Gods had long since ended, with the power of the divinities withdrawn and vanished from the world. Was it the Almighty? Or was it someone else that he had no knowledge of?
As he considered possibilities, an unnerving comparison wormed its way into his mind. The former king knew many people with magical ability – from priests and acolytes to spellcasters and druids. Whether their powers were real or simply tricks of a charlatan, it had been difficult for him to ultimately judge. However, he had witnessed one particular individual who stood head and shoulders above everyone else, past, present, and future. Only he had done something he could compare to what Ren and Morgana utilized.
Solomon, his own son and heir… and the greatest magus that had ever walked the Earth.
He cast his thoughts back. Solomon had done similar, creating daemon familiars with his own soul. There were most likely other similarities though given his limited knowledge of magecraft, what those were eluded him. His intuition pinpointed the correlation, but not how. Was it merely a coincidence and they simply discovered another branch of magecraft that was similar? Or was it something else entirely?
His frown deepened. Come to think of it, the demon god pillars the Chaldeans had mentioned. What were their names? Orobas and Flauros? Now that he thought about it, they sounded rather familiar themselves. Surely, they weren’t the same ones he was thinking of… were they?
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his green hair and looked up at the darkening sky. The crescent moon shone with a pale light above as the stars slowly came into sight. The black seas glimmered like a shimmering cloak of diamonds. Songs rang out over the evening as the crew below drunkenly belted out sea shanties, the words indistinct and distant. Unlike the Almighty, he was neither omniscient nor omnipotent. All he could do was shepherd them to safer pastures and deal with the wolves that come prowling out of the woods.
In the end, what will be, will be.
The captain’s quarters on the Golden Hind was surprisingly lavish. It was a large single cabin that took up the stern of the ship, right underneath the shipwheel. On one side of the room were racks of weapons, from cutlasses to flintlock pistols to blunderbusses, gleaming in the lantern light. On the other was a protected cabinet filled with rows of similar looking books, closed with a heavy-looking brass lock. A desk stood by the door, its surface strewn about with surfaces, open books, and various navigation tools. Contrary to Drake’s appearance, the quarters were rather well kept. The only sign of her slovenly nature was a large, unmade bed that sat in a corner, with a tower of empty tankards leaning askew nearby.
Within, the captain sat with her boots on a long dining table. A long row of windows, which normally provided her with a view of the ocean behind them, showed nothing but the darkness of the night, lit only by the lanterns outside. “So let me get this straight,” she stated, rolling one of the uncut gems they had recovered in her hand as she looked at it with a discerning eye. “What we picked up aren’t just ‘treasures’, but essentially securing pins for some sort of barrier to a restricted area?”
“A bit crude in explanation, but that is the sum of it,” Medea replied, nodding toward the hippocampus figure that floated in the air, emanating a sea-green light that trailed in a certain direction. “These figures have been maintaining some sort of bounded field, and the uncut gems are the ‘keys’ to retrieving them. What this bounded field is concealing, I cannot say for certain, but someone went to great lengths to create it.”
“Hm, this is pretty suspicious,” Ritsuka commented with a frown, leaning against the dining table. “When it comes to bounded fields like this, it’s either to keep people out, or something in. And usually for good reason.”
“There’s a lot of reasons people lock up things,” Ren pointed out, leaning forward into the back of his chair that he had reversed. “But honestly, we don’t really have a way to figure out what they are until we figure out what’s locked in there in the first place. What about you, Roman? You got anything?”
‘I don’t see anything in our scans,’ the doctor mused, his visage glancing at another monitor beside him. ‘So far, while we have detected a number of smaller landmasses nearby, there’s nothing in the indicated direction. If there’s a bounded field, then it’s very well hidden.’
Drake stared at the figurine, pondering as she idly tossed the gem from hand to hand. “Suppose we sail straight there,” she mused. “What do you think will happen?”
The witch frowned. “A bounded field’s effects can be myriad,” she answered. “If the creator wished to be subtle, they can simply warp our perceptions and space so we simply appear on the other side of it, none the wiser. It could lure sea monsters to our location or create some sort of phenomenon to sink us, be it storms or whirlpools. Seeing as the magical energy bears traces of Poseidon’s energy, I doubt the field’s effects shall be gentle.”
She fell silent, as if musing over something. “Somethin’ else?” Drake asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Go on, spill. The more we know what we’re dealing with the better. Considering how everything’s gone belly-up, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tell me the world has flipped upside down.”
Medea couldn’t help but let a slightly amused smirk curl her lips. “In a sense, it has,” she replied, causing the captain’s eyebrows to raise even higher. “These treasures and the materials they are made of aren’t anything that exist in your time. Even if these were ancient artifacts or relics, their mystery would’ve faded considerably by now, leaving telltale marks and tracks that I would have detected.”
Roman’s eyes widened in pure shock through the communicator. ‘Wait, you can’t seriously mean-‘ he spluttered.
“I do,” the Caster confirmed. “These artifacts have been displaced from time and brought here from the Age of the Gods, a distortion in the singularity. How that distortion came to be, I’m uncertain. But I cannot mistake the mysteries around them for anything else.”
“Huh,” Drake muttered. “Well how about that. We definitely picked up a helluva treasure then.”
Ren nodded in agreement before the sound of furious typing caught his attention. He glanced over at the communicator and noticed Roman looking off to the side in curiosity. “Something happening over there, doc?” he asked.
‘It seems Da Vinci is looking for something,’ he explained. ‘Er, what are you looking for, exactly?’
‘Oh, just a small thing that came to mind,’ the self-proclaimed genius’s voice wafted in from off-screen. ‘Medea, would you be able to send the energy and mystery readings of the artifacts over? I can provide a more standardized gauge for you if it’s needed.’
“It won’t be necessary, but thank you for your thoughtfulness,” the Caster replied to her colleague. “I shall have the readings prepared and have it sent to you via our Masters. I take it you have a similar hypothesis?”
Da Vinci giggled. ‘Good to know fellow geniuses think alike~’ she chirped. ‘Indeed! I do believe that fluctuation in the singularity might have been the cause of the appearance of these artifacts – and perhaps, the islands and the bounded field themselves! However, I cannot confirm for certain until I have the data for a conclusion, so do bear in mind it’s only a conjecture~’
“Wait, so on top of that storm, we now have even more things to deal with?” Ritsuka spouted. She ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. “Singularities are already a mess as is, and now this. This is gonna be fun.”
‘Well, the storm was part of the same fluctuation which most likely also brought in those monsters-‘ Roman began pointing out.
“You know what I mean,” Ritsuka growled, shooting an irritated glare at the doctor who simply laughed nervously before looking away.
Drake meanwhile had been silent, leaning back in her chair as she continued to roll the uncut gem while examining it under the lantern light. “So, Age of the Gods, huh?” she mused.
“That is correct,” Medea confirmed.
“And these artifacts here are what’s maintaining the bounded field?” the captain asked. “And we’ve no clue what’s on the other side of it?”
“Nope,” Ren replied. “Like Ritsuka said, it could be to keep us out or keep something in – maybe both.” A grin he couldn’t possibly suppress spread across his face. “It’s probably incredibly dangerous too,” he added.
Drake burst out laughing as she tossed the gem up into the air and easily caught it in her other hand. “You make it sound like you already know the words coming out of my mouth!” she cried heartily as she came down, her chair legs landing on the deck with a heavy thunk. “In that case, we only have one way to go! Set a course for the next island with an artifact! We’re gonna see what’s behind this bounded field! Where there’s danger, there’s bound to be treasure! It’s gonna be a helluva adventure!”
The witch glanced over to her Masters for their opinions. Ritsuka hesitated but Ren gave her a reassuring nod and grin. Taking that as her permission, she turned back to the captain. “Very well,” she accepted. “I shall speak with the helmsman to set our course.” Turning, she took the floating figurine from the table and swept out the cabin without another word.
“I’ll go inform the others then,” Ritsuka stated, getting up from her seat with an uneasy smile. “And catch them up on what’s going on. Best to be prepared, right? I’ll join you in a bit, captain.” With that, she scurried out of the cabin after the Caster, closing the door behind her as she went.
“Helluva crew you got, Joker,” Drake remarked with a grin.
Ren couldn’t help but chuckle. “Couldn’t ask for anyone better,” he agreed. “Your crew too – they seem rather cheerful and gung-ho despite everything we’ve encountered so far.”
The captain laughed again. “Ah, dumb louts, the lot of them,” she brushed off with a wave before passing the uncut gem between her hands again. “But they dangle a good pay day in front of them and they’ll follow you into the jaws of hell.”
Then she paused for a moment, then grinned. “The sea’s close enough though!” she joked. “Just probably a whole lot more watery than they expected!” They both shared a hearty laugh at the crew’s expense, the sounds of their mirth echoing throughout the cabin.
“But still,” Ren pressed once their laughter died down. “I get wanting to follow out of desperation – after all, we’re in pretty hostile waters right now – but there’s something more to it. Even more than possibly striking it rich. I wanted to know what that was for you.”
Drake raised an eyebrow. “Following Ritsuka’s lead and taking a page from my book?” she questioned.
The Phantom Thief considered, then shook his head with a smile. “Just curiosity,” he replied.
“That so?” the captain remarked with a skeptically raised eyebrow. Then she shrugged, tossing the uncut gem one more time between her hands before placing it in her coat pocket. “Lemme show you somethin’,” she stated as she stood up. Walking briskly over to a cabinet, she opened it and took out a long roll of paper. With a flourish, she unfurled it onto the table. “What do you see here?” she asked.
Ren looked down at the paper in curiosity. At first, he thought it was some splotchy paper. But as he looked more closely in the dim lantern lighting, he realized it was a map. However, unlike the ones he was used to, there were several spots that were conspicuously blank, especially to the far north and south. In the oceans were drawings of various sea monsters and gigantic fishes, which he recalled was a metaphor for unexplored or dangerous waters.
“It’s a map,” he stated bluntly, looking up to meet Drake’s eyes. “A very incomplete one.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “’Tis an incomplete one indeed.”
Leaning over, she tapped on the blank spots. “Have you ever wondered, Joker, what lies beyond there?” Drake asked. “What unexplored lands, monsters, people, and treasure waiting to be discovered? Adventures that would make even the wildest tales you’ve heard seem as drab as a child’s bedtime story? Anything and everything could be there, if we’ve got the guts to go.”
The Phantom Thief looked back down at the map. In his time, the world had long since been completely filled out. Voyages of discovery were a thing of the distant past, with satellites taking images of the planet far more accurate than any human cartographer. Though now there were new frontiers to explore – the stars and the deep oceans – more often than not it was done with unmanned drones and remote-controlled robots. It was far more practical, given the precise instruments of such machines, but it certainly lacked the romanticism that the captain embodied.
Then his mind flashed back to his times in Palaces. Exploring room by room, corridor by corridor, his and his friends’ senses alert for any enemies or traps. Even when they found maps, they still had to be wary – even a mundane, unopened room could still hold an enemy or treasure, possibly both. It made every foray into a Palace a risk into the unknown, with all its attendant risks.
And there was Mementos. There was no point in mapping it out; the floors changed their configurations and layouts each and every time they entered and exited. Shadows lurked behind every corner as winding corridors gave way to empty rooms and dead ends. Sometimes there was treasure waiting for them. Other times nothing at all. Futaba could sometimes scope out the entire floor, but more often than not they had to simply venture forward into the unknown. And if they ever lingered too long on a floor…
Just the memory of the chains echoing throughout the dark subway tunnels filled him with trepidation – and excitement.
“Aye, you understand,” Drake remarked with a broad, knowing grin. “Everyone has theories or myths of these uncharted waters. Maybe it’s the edge of the world that leads to either an abyss or an endless ocean. Maybe it’s nothing but monsters and death beyond. Maybe it’s the land of the gods where they all sit around drinking ambrosia and nectar. Who knows?”
“And what do you think?” Ren asked, his curiosity piqued.
The captain laughed. “You already know!” she declared. “The philosophers and mathematicians in ancient times long since figured it out but I’m gonna prove: Our world is round! I’ll voyage forward until we’re back where we started! I’ll carve my name into history and make it indisputable! And I also get filthy rich in the bargain! Not a bad deal, eh?”
Ren nodded, pondering. “And what if you’re wrong?” he asked, stopping Drake’s laughter. “What if the end of the world is nothing but an abyss or an endless sea? Or filled with monsters and death, as you said? What then?”
The cabin filled with silence as the two simply stared at one another. Ren leaned up casually against the table next to the map as the captain’s face was uncharacteristically blank. Finally, she broke into a grin. “Well then, it’ll be one helluva adventure, won’t it?” she declared happily. “And those louts out there – sure, a rich payday will get them places but deep down, they’re all sea dogs like me. You get ‘em plastered and then ask ‘em if they’re curious what lies in those blanks. Bet ya my pistols you’ll get the same damn answer each and every time.”
Ren paused in thought, then smiled to himself. Sure, both Mementos and the Palaces were dangerous and filled with the unknown. And sure, he and his friends had good reasons to delve into them. But he recalled his friends curiously and eagerly peering over his shoulder each and every time he opened a treasure chest. Their caution with each room and corridor they explored, their excitement and elation with each fight and victory. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I can’t argue with that.”
“Ya damn well can’t!” Drake boomed as she slammed a hand on the table with a guffaw. “I know that fire in your eyes the moment I saw it – it’s the same one that blazes bright through every wave and storm for me! That’s the reason why I took you and yours aboard! With the likes of you around, any adventure is bound to get more interesting, and whaddya know, ya already proved it! Besides, we got a score to settle, don’t we?”
The Phantom Thief blinked. “We do?” he asked curiously.
The captain grinned dangerously. “I haven’t forgotten about our little bout on the first day,” she pointed out. “And like hell am I gonna let that settle. Soon as we got a bit o’ time to rest, we’re resuming where we left off!”
For a moment, Ren was stunned silent – then he burst out laughing as well. “You’re right! We stopped before we got to the good part!” he chuckled. “Fine then, you’re on. Hope you don’t mind your crew watching you hit the deck though! If they lose their respect for you, that ain’t my problem!”
“Says the one who’s got girls watching him every which way,” the captain shot back with a grin of her own. Marching over, she grabbed two goblets and a bottle from a nearby cabinet and poured a healthy amount into both. “Here. No sailor worth their salt makes a promise like that without a drink. Or are ya still too lily-livered after that first night?”
“Pft, compared to that night, this is nothing,” the Phantom Thief scoffed as he snagged his own goblet. While the thought of alcohol still turned his stomach, nothing would match downing three entire barrels’ worth in one go. In a way, it was an invigorating experience. While he’d never like it, his distaste towards alcohol decreased somewhat. Maybe when he met up with Ohya again, he’d share a drink with her – in moderation, of course. And with Sojiro and Iwai too. He owed them that much at the very least.
Shoving aside the sudden pangs in his heart, he raised his drink. “A toast to you, o’ captain,” he cried. “To adventure and to the unknown! May it line our pockets with riches and glory forevermore!”
“I’ll drink to that!” Drake roared with a hearty laugh.
They toasted, smashing their goblets together to the point where the liquor splashed out, then poured it down the gullets. The captain downed it with relish, tilting her head back to get every last drop, then slammed it down on the table with a breathy sigh. “This is the good life, Joker!” she declared.
Ren tried to hide his wince as he set down his own goblet after draining it, the acrid flavor of the drink still lingering heavily on his tongue. Maybe he wasn’t as used to it as he thought. “It certainly is,” he agreed, unable to hide the rasp in his voice.
The captain’s amused laughter boomed even through the wooden walls of the cabin as the Golden Hind set off on its new course – toward both treasure and danger beyond measure.
After a few nights though, it quickly lost its charm. The hammocks were itchy and smelled, the blankets were thin, and the constant swinging was worrying at best. Rolling off the bed typically wasn’t a danger unless the quartermaster or Eckhart was yelling in a particularly dozy sailor’s ear. Morgana had complained about being on the sea back in the Roman singularity. And for many, said complaints were rather justified.
For Mash, however, she still found it enjoyable. Learning the ropes – literally – on the ship, assisting with the crew wherever she was needed, and even just watching the waves rolling by had been new experiences for her. The closest she had been to the sea was on the island with the Chimera, where she didn’t have the time or space to really appreciate it. It absolutely couldn’t compare to sailing on them directly. Even the hammocks she found surprisingly fun.
Besides, rough as they were, sleeping on the ground was worse still.
That said, she found herself awake in the middle of the night. The crew quarters were surprisingly loud, filled with the raucous snoring from dozens of sleeping sailors as the ship’s lumber creaked and groaned in the background. The only lighting were the few lanterns hung up on posts, their dimly burning candles illuminating only just enough to see the floor. This wasn’t the first time she woke up in the middle of the night, but no matter how much she tossed and turned, sleep completely eluded her.
Sighing in defeat, she slowly rolled out of her hammock and gently stepped onto the deck. As she blinked sleep out of her eyes, she checked her surroundings and found Ren a few rows away. He was sleeping face down, with an arm dangling off the side. Morgana meanwhile was curled up on his back in his cat form, occasionally twitching in his sleep.
Mash eyed them curiously. She wondered what they were dreaming of. Was Ren-senpai in his dream world? She hadn’t visited since that night — though the desire to do so stayed buried in her mind.
How would she even stop by again? Should she simply wish for it as she drifted off to sleep? He had said something like that, but she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Ren shifted slightly, bringing the Shielder out of her ruminations, and watched as he curled up deeper in his sleep. Morgana barely even shifted, easily keeping his balance. She relaxed slightly as they stilled, smiling as she watched their contented expressions.
Yet as she observed her sleeping senpai, a strange impulse crept into her mind. It was a thought she had before, but one that now grew in presence and latched onto her thoughts like an unwanted passenger on a train. It turned from a mere passing observation to an all-consuming fact. And that thought was just a simple truth:
‘His hair looks so fluffy…’
He was sleeping. She knew better. She absolutely knew better. But… it looked so fluffy, like Fou’s fur, but far more chaotic - unorderly in a cute way she wanted to pat and toy with. Before she knew it, her hand was ever so slowly reaching toward his hair-
And she wrested it back. He was sleeping! Ren-senpai had already gone through so many fights and difficulties in this singularity alone– convincing Drake to join them, the storm, and finally outrunning countless wyverns to escape. He deserved the rest! She couldn’t possibly risk disturbing him for something like that, not when he had been fighting so hard!
….
Could she?
Desire and responsibility warred within her mind, yet her innocent nature left her completely inexperienced with suppressing her impulses. And with each cute little twitch from her senpai, responsibility slowly but surely gave more and more ground. Her desire to rustle his messy hair continued to increase all the more.
It seemed that her unfaltering willpower to protect her senpai could not quite protect him from herself.
As quietly as she could, she creeped over to her senpai’s side. Raising her hand, she ever so slowly and hesitantly reached out… and placed it on Ren’s head. The sensation of his soft hair filled her senses with delight.
‘Ah, it really is fluffy…’ she silently cooed.
As she quietly pet him, she idly noted his hair wasn’t quite as fluffy as last time. The conditions his last outing combined with the lack of a proper shower had done a number on the chaotic equilibrium that defined his hair. It was unlikely it would return to maximum fluffiness until after the singularity’s conclusion. Such luxuries were unfortunately lacking compared when out on the field compared to the facility.
Still, the strange new voice in Mash’s head that spurred on this ridiculous action was hardly dismayed by this fact, delighting in the sensation regardless. While she had felt fluffier – very little could compare to Fou’s well-groomed and luxurious coat – but there was a strange joy that came from this instead. Even if it wasn’t the perfected fluffiness she had been more accustomed to, it brought her a ticklish joy she very rarely felt.
“Hehe.… he… ehehehe...”, she giggled – a quiet, unintentional sound that bubbled from her lips without her even realizing. She continued to gently stroke his hair as she did, lost in the moment-
The Phantom Thief stirred slightly, causing Mash to freeze in terror, suddenly mortified at the prospect of her selfish indecency being discovered! Her breath caught in her throat as fear seized hold, awaiting whatever judgement may come-
… And instead nuzzled more into her hand as he settled down. The girl could only sigh in relief as she finally took a step back, finally releasing the disorderly mop on his head from her grasp. She stared warmly down at her sleeping senpai, who curled back up in his slumber. Was it just the lighting or was he frowning slightly now? Her senses finally caught up to her and a singular thought pierced her mind like a thorn to a bubble.
‘What am I doing?’
With a small sigh, she moved back – and squeaked as she felt her heel hit something. Glancing back, she found her sword laying there on the deck, still in its sheath. The silver gleamed dully with the lantern light, refracting the flickering candle in a mesmerizing pattern. It had drawn the eyes of every sailor that laid eyes on it and even Drake herself, yet none of them did anything besides silently admire it. Even in such an environment, surrounded by banality and ill-fitting a sailing ship, it still glimmered like a treasure beyond worth.
Reaching down, she slowly picked it up from the deck and looked it over for any scratches or dents. Right – she had set it down for the evening.
As she expected, it was in pristine condition. That was to be expected of such a gift from senpai. There was no way it would be damaged in such a mundane environment. Or even if it clashed against the monsters they had been encountering or enemy Servants despite their supernatural ability. Not that she knew for sure – she still hadn’t properly drawn the blade since she first received it. Even during Boudica’s and Leonidas’s tutelage, they had used training weapons instead as they drilled the fundamentals into her.
A chill came over Mash, starting from her fingertips and slowly spreading throughout her body as a feeling of trepidation crawled down her spine. She took one last glance at Ren, who was sleeping off his exhaustion from his accomplishment, all while she stood too afraid to even hold the glittering metal in her hand. Feeling more ridiculous than ever, Mash turned away with the sheathed blade still in her hand and began moving toward the stairs.
There was no way she would be able to get any sleep right now anyway.
As she stepped up the stairs and walked past other decks, she passed by other sailors who were working through the night. A few were hauling supplies, others were cleaning or working on various repairs. They glanced up as she passed by and either returned to their work or gave a nod with a murmured “Miss Kyrielight”.
She nodded back politely in turn and wondered about them. They were on this voyage too, were they not? What were their lives like before? What pushed them to sail with Drake despite all the hazards? Was this something they ever imagined themselves doing?
Her grip around the sword tightened as she picked up her pace.
The top deck was quiet. Two or three sailors worked under lantern light, jointly whistling a sea shanty. The sky above was a filigree of stars, broken up by patches of absolute darkness as clouds drifted by. She could hear the water splashing far below against the Golden Hind as the sails above her fluttered in the wind. While she couldn’t see David, he was most likely up in the crow’s nest as always.
She walked forward to the prow of the ship. The darkness of the night melted into the gloom of the sea, becoming a void that was broken only by the stars. There was nothing she could see ahead or around her.
As she gazed into the distance, tales of gods and mariners sailing through the night skies bubbled to her mind from her studies. Was this view where they had originated from? She could see why - there was a beauty and mysticism here that was hard to fathom through videos or pictures.
Sitting down at the edge, the Shielder sighed softly as she brushed aside a few strands of hair that had blown in her face. Lifting up her sword, she hesitantly drew it partially out of its sheath. Despite the dimness of the lanterns, the blade still caught the light regardless and gleamed as though it was made of fire. It was a beauty that again stole her breath like it had the first day she beheld it. It was a work of art like no other. She still wondered to this day how he made it. He hadn’t told her, and she hadn’t felt like it was her place to ask.
“Should you not be asleep, Mash Kyrielight?”
The Shielder squeaked in surprise as the great form of Siegfried walked up. “My apologies,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to startle you. “
Mash shook her head rapidly. “N-no, not at all, Siegfried!” she quickly reassured him. “Just, um, taking in some fresh air. I had some trouble sleeping tonight.”
“Some nights are harder to pass than others,” the dragonslayer agreed. “May I join you?”
“Of course!” she accepted, motioning to a spot near her.
Siegfried smiled and bowed slightly in thanks before walking over and sitting down next to her.
Moments passed by in companionable quiet. The only sounds that filled air between them was the whisper of the sea breeze, the distant waves splashing up against the Hind’s hull far below, and the occasional bark of a sailor as they worked. Staring down at the deck, Mash saw a small droplet of water tracing its way through the deck. As she watched in fascination, it followed the grain in the wood, coursing through the worn grooves and toward where the planks were joined.
“The stars are beautiful at this time of night,” Siegfried suddenly commented.
The Shielder blinked in surprise, startled slightly out of her reverie, before staring up with him into the night sky. “Yes, it is,” she agreed quietly. Countless motes of light dotted the vast expanse of darkness above, blending together into a sparkling filigree. The sight was becoming familiar now from her times in the singularities, yet it was no less wondrous each and every time she witnessed it.
“Both Ren-senpai and Ritsu-senpai told me they couldn’t see the stars like this back home,” she commented as she tried to trace out constellations. “The cities they lived in are so filled with lights that they completely blot out the night sky. Light pollution, I think it was called. To see anything like this, you would have to go far out into the wilderness or country where civilization is sparse.”
“Is that so?” the dragonslayer mused. “I must admit, I find such news saddening. Humanity has progressed far since my time, for which I am glad. But to sacrifice the ability to easily witness such natural beauty is truly a shame. It is a sight that very few truly tire of, no matter how many times one sees it.”
“Like you, Siegfried?” Mash asked, glancing over in curiosity.
The Saber nodded with a warm smile. “More often than not I was on the road,” he recalled. “Following wherever rumors or my whims led me. Many nights, I camped out under the stars when the weather was decent enough for it. It almost made dealing with the wolves and bandits that thought I was an easy mark at night worth it.”
He chuckled to himself at the small joke. “But it taught me to appreciate what I had,” he finished. “Either a canopy of the heavens above or a roof over my head, I made the best of what I had. It wasn’t the easiest life, but it was rather fulfilling.”
“I see…” Mash whispered pensively. “It sounds like a beautiful way to live, Siegfried. Thank you for sharing with me.”
“It’s just a small anecdote of my travels,” Siegfried brushed off as his smile widened slightly. “Think nothing of it.”
A silence, more comfortable than before, descended upon them. Mash stretched to relieve the stiffness in her limbs – and squeaked as the sword on her lap began tipping over, swiftly laying her hand on it to prevent its fall. It may be exceedingly resilient, but that wasn’t an excuse to be careless.
“I do not recall that blade when we first met,” the dragonslayer commented, once again catching her attention as he nodded to the weapon. “Was it something that came with your summoning that you hadn’t properly attuned to, perhaps? You are already formidable with a shield – no doubt it shall be useful in battles to come.”
The icy claw of guilt around her stomach clutched even harder. “I-it’s not from my demi-Servant summoning, sir,” she denied quietly. “It was… it was a present from Ren-senpai. He says it’s for me to use as I will to achieve my own goals, whatever they may be.”
Siegfried nodded pensively at her answer. “I see,” he murmured. “That is indeed a very thoughtful gift of our Master. I’m sure you’re happy with it.”
Mash hesitated, then slowly nodded. “I am,” she confirmed. “However…”
As she hesitated, the dragonslayer glanced over at her in silent question. “There were no small amount of opportunities to use it. Back when I was hunting the Chimera, and perhaps even when we fought against those wyverns earlier today. Yet I hadn’t even considered drawing it. Instead, I merely used my shield as I always did.”
The Shielder fell silent. Her thumb moved slowly across the immaculate crossguard as she bit her lip. For a moment, the sound of the sea splashing underneath and the flutter of sails filled the empty air between them.
Siegfried looked up into the night sky, the tapestry of stars glimmering overhead. “You find that dissatisfying,” he commented. His tone wasn’t questioning – it was an objective observation.
Her grip on the sheath tightened slightly. “… I feel like I can’t wait,” she finally breathed. “Not just because of the danger of our mission, but because of Ren-senpai. At great risk to himself, he achieved something that even he hadn’t conceived up until then. For every small, safe step I take, he makes great strides and bounds. His back, which I am supposed to protect, feels ever more and more distant when that happens. I thought… I thought with this sword he gifted me, I could come closer to where he stands, but…”
Her grip tightened around the scabbard. “But I’m not sure if that’s possible.”
The dragonslayer was pensive. He observed the girl sitting beside him: a noble, skilled, yet inexperienced warrior both in the ways of war and in life. And her sword was a marvel even with just a glance and sheathed. Perhaps not as impressive as his own Balmung, but peerless nevertheless. Both it and the Shielder reminded him of freshly forged blades – sharp, gleaming, untested, yet reliable nevertheless.
Inwardly, he smiled. The wish to stand beside someone shoulder to shoulder, to be able to watch one another’s back as they faced off against whatever the world threw at them, was something he understood well. It was a great luxury and honor for those who lived on the battlefield, especially in his solitary travels before he met his companions. Had it not been for them, his beloved wife Kriemhild may not even have known he existed – another blade among the hundreds she had seen. Mash’s goal was admirable, and one he understood well.
However…
“If I may speak on the matter,” he began, causing Mash to look up in both surprise and curiosity. “Has our Master made you swear any kind of oath or pledge on the sword? Were you made to swear fealty to him?”
The Shielder blinked several times. “N-no, not at all!” she immediately denied. “Ren-senpai made it clear that the sword was to be made for my own goals and use. I had even asked him what I should use it for, and he replied that he couldn’t answer that. There is no oath or pledge I’ve sworn to him or to the sword.”
Siegfried nodded. “If that is the case, then it is truly a gift without peer,” he stated. “It is one that you are to use as you will. The blade is yours to use as you see fit – a hefty responsibility, but one with a promise of cutting a path through. Our Master has no bearing on this matter; he himself has made that utterly clear. With that in mind, the question is thus: What do you wish to do with the sword, Miss Kyrielight?”
Mash opened her mouth to speak, but Siegfried raised his hand to stop her. “As our Master said, that is your own answer,” he continued. “You are not trained in its proper use, true, but that does not change the fact that it is now in your hands, ready for your hand and will. No journey is without its risks, and anything worthy of gain is fraught with peril. However, if there is something you need – nay, you want – then you must reach out and seize it with your own hands. Within your grasp is a tool to assist with that. However, you must decide the path for yourself.”
“… My own path…?” she whispered, looking back down at her sword. Her mind was in an utter fervor, as though it wandered desperately through a dark forest. Was she allowed to do that? Where would she even start? What could she do? When would be the time that her new blade could cut a path for her? Would that even be what Ren-senpai wanted?
Then she remembered the Saber’s words. Her path. As he said, Ren-senpai had no bearing on it. That made her even more lost. Was she even on a path? Paths at least had some sort of marker or a clue which way she should walk. Though perhaps her own goal was to simply step forward, regardless of where her feet might take her? It was foolhardy, and she possibly would even get lost. Yet what if, just what if, she discovered something, for good or ill?
“I… I’m not sure,” the Shielder finally murmured. “I don’t know what to do.”
The dragonslayer nodded sympathetically. “Few do,” he agreed. “There are times for thought, and there are times for action. As for which is correct, I cannot say. Were I so wise, perhaps things might have turned out differently in my life. I might not have been known as the hero and fool that is Siegfried.”
Smiling at Mash’s surprised and bewildered expression at his statement, he quietly stood. “Know, however,” he added. “That whatever path you choose, our Masters will never allow you to tread alone. They shall be with you to provide guidance and assistance as necessary. That, I can at least wholeheartedly assure you.”
Mash’s mouth opened slightly, then closed as she gulped. That was true, wasn’t it? Be it Ren-senpai, Morgana, or Ritsuka, they would be alongside her for this mission. While they couldn’t provide her direct answers, she could at least speak and learn from them. It was something she knew about from the beginning – they were her senpais when it came to life, after all – but it seemed a reminder had been necessary. Something she was grateful for.
“I see…” she murmured. Then she gave a small, grateful smile to the Saber as she bowed. “Thank you, Siegfried, for your advice. It was very helpful – and it seems I have much to consider.”
Siegfried’s smile widened. “You are quite welcome, Mash Kyrielight,” he replied in turn. “Now, perhaps it is time you head back to sleep. It will be only a few hours before dawn, and undoubtedly the days will become busy before long.”
The Shielder nodded in agreement and stood as well. Grasping her sword more firmly, she made her way back to the crew quarters as the dragonslayer vanished behind her in a shower of golden light. He was right – there was much to do and much to ponder. There was a long way ahead of her right now, and the end was nowhere in sight. But now she had more options to consider.
A sword tended to be helpful for that.