October 28th, 2004 – Einzbern Castle

It was always cold in the Einzbern castle. The perpetual snowstorms that shrouded the old family's territory leached all heat from the stones, and the fireplaces scattered through the enormous structure could only do so much, despite the efforts of the homunculi servants to keep them perpetually lit. There was never enough firewood to do so, forcing the homunculi to go outside to harvest more – where the wolves and the other perils of the forests would eventually kill them.

There were more efficient ways to heat the castle, of course. Even the Clocktower had stopped using fireplaces and converted to central heating to heat its buildings long ago. But the Einzbern didn't care. The servant homunculi were nothing but resources, to be made and spent as the family's Magi saw fit. The magic that had given them life was the same magic that coursed through the forest, so it all came back to them in the end.

Illya had never gotten used to the cold, despite having lived in the castle all her life. Her body was too weak, her constitution too frail – both from her inheritance and from the surgeries her Grandfather had subjected her to in order to 'maximize her potential'. She had never fallen sick from it, she wasn't allowed to, but she had always, always, been uncomfortable when she left her bed and the pile of blankets atop it.

But soon, that misery would end. Today was the day she would begin to fulfill her purpose. Today, she would summon a Servant. She would reach out, far beyond the limits of most modern Magecraft, and bring forth the avatar of a Heroic Spirit from the Throne of Heroes itself. And with their help, she would crush all opposition in Fuyuki once the Fifth Grail War began. She would claim the Holy Grail for the Einzbern, and restore the lost Third Magic, the Heaven's Feel, to the family, realizing the ambition they had pursued for centuries.

Of course, Illya didn't care about the Grail. She didn't care about winning glory for the Einzbern. She wouldn't live to see any of it, after all. Fulfilling her purpose meant that she would die, her body falling apart to reveal the Lesser Grail that had been implanted inside her, bound to the Magical Circuits that were the only thing about her influenced by her father's inheritance. Everything else about her was like her mother. With her long white hair, her red eyes and doll-like features, she looked just like Irisviel had as a child, before her growth had been accelerated so that she could fulfill her function in the Fourth Grail War. The same function as Illya's.

Illya would die just as her mother had died : to bring the Holy Grail in the world and fulfill the long-held wish of the Einzbern, a family to which she owed nothing but scorn and pain. She knew this. She had known this since the death of her mother and the betrayal of her father, when her Grandfather had made it clear to her that her only use to the Einzbern family was as a living sacrifice to restore their lost glory.

But her Grandfather wasn't a fool : he was perfectly aware of her feelings. Jubstacheit von Einzbern was as cunning as he was old, and the Head of the Einzbern was ancient. Illya had heard other members of the family theorize that Jubstacheit was hundreds of years, perhaps even more than a millennia old. No one knew how he had lived that long, but it must be something allowed by the regulations of the Clocktower : the Head's longevity was well-known, and the Barthellemoi weren't the kind to tolerate any approach to immortality that even remotely approached vampirism.

It wasn't enough for Jubstacheit that the violation of Illya by the Einzbern had created a Master with the highest possible specs, who would have command over the strongest Servant and access to the Lesser Grail's practically limitless mana reserves. All of these advantages would mean less than nothing if the Master wasn't motivated.

And so, Old Man Acht had made sure that she was motivated to fight in the Grail War.

Acht had told her years ago how her father had abandoned the Grail, rejecting the wish her mother had sacrificed herself for. But she had been a child when he had told her that, and all she had felt back then had been a numb shock, followed by denial, then grief and despair. So Acht had changed his tune. He had told her how Kiritsugu had abandoned her, staying in Japan and adopting another child instead. He had told her how that child had grown up to become the second coming of the dreaded Magus Killer, how that child had slaughtered the Matou family, one of the three families that had created the Greater Grail.

He had told her of the boy's lies, of his manipulation of the Tohsaka Head, another of the three founding families, in order to avoid punishment for his callous ending of a long and storied Magus lineage. He had told her how he had blackmailed the Archibald family's weakling Lord into ignoring his maiming of the Enforcer they had sent to investigate one year ago. He had told her how that child, this Shirou Emiya, as if he had any right to that name, had hidden from the attention of the Clocktower while discreetly investing the Einzbern. Except that he hadn't been discreet enough, and her Grandfather had caught his inquiries.

Jubstacheit hadn't told her what to think of all of this, but he hadn't needed to. The picture painted by the actions of her brother was damning enough, even if his mere existence hadn't already been. And so, at long last, Illyasviel von Einzbern had found a purpose she could fully embrace : revenge.

Her father was dead. He had abandoned her and Mama, and then he had had the nerve to adopt another child and be there for him while she was trapped in that castle. But Kiritsugu Emiya was dead, and beyond her reach. Shirou Emiya, however, wasn't.

She was going to find him. She was going to make him realize just how vast his sins against her were, until he begged her for forgiveness. And then …

And then, once she was done punishing him, she would kill him. He would pay for stealing her father from her.

Outside, the moon was full, and the skies were clear. For this night and this night only, the unnatural snowstorms had abated, to lessen the risk of their magic interfering with what was to take place. Hallow's Eve was near, the veil between the real and spiritual worlds thinned by the weight of thousands of years of belief.

Illya and her Grandfather stood in the space that had been prepared for the summoning. She had spent the last two hours tracing the summoning circle herself, having added a drop of her blood to the material prepared for her. Everything must be done perfectly, to maximize the stats of the Servant she would summon. Her Grandfather, who had stood watch in silence all that time, would tolerate nothing less.

After inspecting her work with a critical eye and nodding once – the greatest sign of her Grandfather's approval Illya had ever received – Acht walked to the altar in front of the circle, and opened the box that laid on it. Within it laid the catalyst Illya would use to summon her Servant : a relic from that Heroic Spirit, recovered at great cost and after years of searching by Einzbern agents.

It was an old piece of armor. Fragments of it were missing, visibly torn off centuries ago, but the shape of a lion-headed helmet could still be recognized. Illya was no expert, but she had received enough teaching in the various styles of armor to help her guess the identities of enemy Servants to recognize that it was something dating from the Middle Ages, that period of European history that had followed the fall of the Roman Empire and the dissolution of the Magi lodges that had called it home.

She frowned. This wasn't what she had expected.

"Grandfather ?" She dared to speak, the first words she had spoken to the man in months. "I thought I was going to summon Heracles as a Berserker-class Servant ?"

Left unsaid was that doing so would have been a flagrant abuse of the Einzbern's knowledge of the Grail System. While it was possible to skew the chances of one's Servant being of a particular Class by selecting a Heroic Spirit with a suitable legend, forcing a Servant into a Class – especially one like the Berserker Class – was another matter entirely. Only by performing the ritual here, in the heart of the Einzbern's power, could Acht force the Grail's hand in this way.

"That was the plan, Illyasviel." For once, Acht's voice lacked the underlying tone of stern disappointment that was almost always present when he talked to her. "But circumstances have forced me to adapt our approach. All of our leads on a catalyst suitable for summoning the son of Zeus failed, either because our information was wrong or because someone else had already got it first. I was considering going after one of the latter category anyway, but one of our expeditions found this instead."

"This," he continued, gesturing at the helmet, "is the helm that was worn by Arthur Pendragon, the legendary monarch of Britain and King of Knights. King Arthur wore it during much of his reign, as part of a suit of armor bestowed upon him by none other than Merlin himself. Even now, traces of the enchantments laid upon it by Merlin linger. One could not ask for a better catalyst with which to summon King Arthur : there is no other possible Servant which may be called forth from the Throne using it."

Illya took a sharp breath. This wasn't quite on the same level as Avalon, the enchanted scabbard that had been used to summon King Arthur by her father during the previous War, but it was still an incredible find.

"It was found near Byzantium of all places … or Istanbul, as I am told the city is called nowadays. As far as I was able to find out, it was brought there by one of the soldiers involved in the wars that raged in the area during the Middle Ages, carried from the fields of Camlann themselves and passing from hand to hand until its last holder perished in battle and was buried with it."

That was … it wasn't impossible, Illya guessed, but that certainly was a long trip for a piece of armor, however historically and thaumaturgically priceless.

"One might interpret this as a sign of the Root," mused the old man, and Illya was forced to silently agree. "A chance for our family to wipe out the shame of our previous failure, by using the very same Servant that man employed when he betrayed us."

'That man'. Acht never used Kiritsugu's name, but no one ever mistook him for meaning someone else whenever he spoke the words. Shifting on her feet uncomfortably, Illya tried to change the subject :

"It won't be the same Servant, though. Right, Grandfather ?"

"Of course not. The Servants on the Throne of Heroes do not receive the memories of their time incarnated as familiars for us magi. The Grail was designed to make sure of it."

'Us' magi. As if she had ever been considered a proper magi by the rest of the Einzbern. The only people in the entire castle who had ever treated her as a person rather than a tool were Sella and Leysritt, her attendants, and they had literally been created to follow her orders and take care of her.

"In that case, the wisdom of that design is manifest," Acht went on, either unaware of uncaring of Illya's thoughts. "We still do not know exactly what happened in the last Grail War, but summoning a fresh version of King Arthur that was not exposed to that man can only be for the best. Especially since we won't be using our methods to force a summoning into the Berserker Class : unlike Heracles, King Arthur would lose far too much of what makes her such a powerful choice for a Servant. There will be the issue that your competitors will likely know that King Arthur was the Servant used by our family in the last Grail War, and therefore easily guess her identity this time around … But I am confident that our other measures will more compensate for that handicap."

Her identity. Illya had few memories of the Saber-class Servant her father had summoned in the Fourth Grail War, but she did remember that it had been a woman – a very pretty, petite woman. Now, she understood that learning that King Arthur had been a woman would have been quite the shock to the historians of the mundane world. But then again, just learning that King Arthur had actually existed would have been a shock to those historians : the denizens of the Moonlit World had done their utmost to erase all actual evidence of the King of Knights' legacy, relegating her and her Round Table to the realm of myth and legends.

Illya didn't know why they had done that, though she had her suspicions. The secrecy of the Moonlit World was perhaps the only things all its inhabitants agreed upon, and the tales of Camelot would have strained it considerably if they had been allowed to remain more than fables.

"Now, Illyasviel," Acht's voice drew her from her thoughts, "it is time to begin."

Illya's heartbeat didn't quicken at the words. She had been trained better than that. Still, she did feel a faint sense of trepidation. This was what she had been trained, what she had been born, for. The culmination of her entire existence.

The summoning chant had been burned into her mind by the dozens of hours she had spent learning and reciting by heart, every syllable spoken with perfect precision and rhythm. She spoke it now, loud and clear, as easily and naturally as breathing.

"For the elements, silver and iron." she began. "For the foundation, stone and the Archduke of Contracts."

The circle started to glow as her prana coursed through it, and the connection to the distant Greater Grail in Fuyuki tentatively began to form.

"For the ancestor, the great master, Schweinorg."

Even if the Wizard Marshall's current condition was … complicated to say the least, he was still one of the world's few Magicians, having reached the Root through mastery of the Kaleidoscope. His insights had helped design the Greater Grail centuries ago, and by invoking his name, the Master could draw upon that lingering connection to reinforce their own link to the Heaven's Feel.

(This was all nonsense, of course, meant to help the self-hypnosis required to perform any Magecraft. Illya knew this, but she also knew how to make it work anyway.)

"Close the gates of the cardinal directions," Illya continued. The tumult of her thoughts and emotions quieted as she went deeper and deeper into herself, igniting her Magic Circuits one by one with absolute concentration.

"Come forth from the crown, and follow the forked road leading to the Kingdom.
Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill.
Repeat five times.
But when each is filled, destroy it.
Set.
Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.
If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me.
I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.
That I shall defeat all evil in the world.
You seven heavens, clad in the three great words of power,
Come forth from the circle of binding,
Guardian of the Scales !"

Contact acknowledged. Catalyst recognized.

Initiating linking process to the Throne …

ERROR. ERROR. Access denied. Initiating self-analysis protocols …

SeLf-ANAlySiS INTErrUPtEd. We KnOw. WE KnOW. WE KNOW.

Initiating backup selection process …

Accessing recorded Spirit/SerVaNT Origins/ReCord …

Access granted. Searching for compatible Origin …

Compatible Origin/FrAgMenT found/IsOlATed.

FaLSe DAugHter anD VirGiN mOthEr – hEaR ThE lAugHtEr iN tHe StArS/Beginning manifestation process …

There was a flash of light, and a sense of something new : a connection, both subtle and intimate. Illya could sense her Servant's mind, linked to her by the bond between Servant and Master. It was still faint, just enough for her to know that it was there, but it would grow stronger in time.

When the light faded, a silhouette stood in the summoning circle.

Illya immediately realized that this wasn't the Saber-class Servant her father had fought with in the Fourth Grail War. She was taller, and clad in a full set of gleaming armor in the style of the helmet that still rested on the altar. In her hand, she held a weapon shaped like a white jousting lance, but that appearance, however flashy, belied its true nature. The weapon radiated power to Illya's senses, along with an acute impression of otherworldliness.

With a flicker of will, the Servant dissipated her helmet into motes of prana, revealing a face very much like the one Illya half-remembered, but older, more refined and elegant. She looked at Illya with eyes like gleaming emeralds, and her voice was strong, though not without softness.

"I have answered your call. I am your Servant, Lancer. With this spear, I shall be your strength."

"I am Illyasviel von Einzbern," Illya replied with a curtsey. She hadn't thought she would need to be polite to her Servant : had she summoned a Berserker, such niceties would have been utterly wasted. But she had been trained into acting the part of a lady, so that she would not shame the Einzbern name during the Grail War before her dissolution. "I am your Master."

"Well done, Illyasviel," praised Acht, a thin smile on his lips as he looked at the Servant with eyes that saw much more than her outer appearance. "Excellent stats all around. The summoning went off perfectly. This bodes well for the Einzbern's victory in the Grail War."

"She looks different than she did in the Fourth War," Illya pointed out. "Even her Class isn't the same."

"Yes. That is surprising, but not unexpected. The legend of King Arthur is among the greatest in Humanity's history, with dozens of variations having appeared over the centuries." If the Servant was discomforted to hear them discuss her as if she wasn't there, she gave no sign of it. Her emerald gaze was still fixed on Illya, her expression indecipherable. "With a different catalyst, it makes sense that the Grail would summon a different aspect of the King of Knights."

"Servant Lancer," said Acht, his voice now cold again, with barely a hint of awe in it. "This lance you carry. It is Rhongomyniad, the Spear at the End of the World, correct ?"

Lancer cocked an eyebrow, still looking at Illya. The girl gestured to go ahead, and the Servant reluctantly nodded.

"It is," replied Lancer aloud. "Though given that I am without a mount ... "

She raised the spear, holding it horizontally in front of her. With the same pulse of light that had accompanied her helmet's dissolution, Rhongomyniad changed forms, going from a jouster's lance to first a thinner spear, and then to what looked like a rapier of blue-grey metal, held within a white scabbard.

"... this form will probably be better suited to the battles ahead," the Servant finished. "We will speak of Rhongomyniad's forms, Master, and how to integrate them into our tactics."

"Wonderful," whispered the Einzbern Head.

Illya nodded absent-mindedly, not really listening as Jubstacheit droned on about the legend of the history and power of the weapon. Clearly the old man had brushed up on his Arthurian lore after obtaining the catalyst, something which Illya hadn't been given a chance to but would need to in the next few weeks.

Still, she didn't need that to know that the War wasn't going to be much of a competition. Illya had been fashioned into the ultimate Master, her Magic Circuits carefully tweaked so that she could draw upon the nigh-on limitless mana of the Grail itself in order to fuel her Servant. An ordinary Master would risk death in order to provide Lancer with enough prana to activate Rhongomyniad's most destructive capabilities without using a Command Seal, but Illya could theoretically do it without suffering any worse consequence than needing a full day of rest. Well, that, and the immense pain she'd go through while forcing so much prana through her body.

The actual challenge would be to take down her enemies without endangering the secrecy of Magecraft. As a rule, Noble Phantasms weren't subtle, and the Light at the World's End was among the most blatant of the lot. Knowledge of the weapon's characteristics and power output was flowing through Illya's mind as she used her connection with the Grail to slightly increase the knowledge it bestowed upon all Masters. If used correctly – or incorrectly, she guessed she should say – Rhongomyniad would wipe out entire districts of Fuyuki off the map.

… Not that Illya cared much about the secrecy. She wouldn't live past the Grail War, after all. But she still didn't want to be responsible for the amount of deaths and suffering that the Association's clean-up would cause if the secrecy was breached.

"Now, Illyasviel," said Acht in a commanding tone. "You know what you have to do."

The half-homonculus looked at the old man, her face a blank mask. For a moment, she entertained the fantasy of ordering her Servant to kill him. No matter how tough he was, she was confident Lancer could deal with him. The rest of the Einzbern wouldn't be much of a challenge, either. Using her Command Seals, she could force Lancer to kill them all, lay waste to the entire castle. She could take her revenge on all those who had belittled her, who had mocked and insulted and tormented her …

… except, what would that actually achieve ?

Her thoughts went cold and bitter. Even if she killed everyone in the castle, she would still die before the end of the year. She might despise that her only purpose in their eyes was to win the Grail for them, but without them, she would never make it to Japan, and to her brother, in time.

There was a reason Acht hadn't been worried about handing control of the thaumaturgic equivalent of a nuke to someone his entire family had mistreated for years. The old Magus knew this. He knew that, in the end, Illya had no choice but to play along with his schemes.

With a sigh, she raised her right hand toward Lancer. Crimson lines glowed all over her body as she focused on her Command Seals, which had been fused to her Magic Circuits to optimize her output.

Lancer stiffened, alarmed. She had some idea of what was about to happen : the Grail's system put the knowledge of how the Holy Grail War worked into the minds of the Servants it summoned, along with the knowledge required to function in the current era.

"Master," the Servant began, speaking quickly. "I don't think -"

"By the power of my Command Seal," Illya cut her off, "I order you, Servant Lancer : when the Grail of Fuyuki manifests at the end of the Fifth Holy Grail War, you will do everything in your power to deliver it safely to the Head of the Einzbern in this castle."

Power surged through her flesh, along with considerable pain. But she was used to far worse, and didn't even flinch as one of her three Command Seals that could actually be used to give her Servant orders (her Grandfather hadn't been able to abuse the system enough to give her more than that) faded away. Unlike another Master, this wasn't marked by the disappearance of the red markings on her skin : those were the projection of her own Magic Circuits, the result of her modifications. It was more like a … feeling, a sense that something was gone, and only two more remained. She couldn't have explained it if she had been asked to – but no one ever had, anyway.

There was no immediate change in Lancer, nothing to indicate that Illya's command had taken effect. In many ways, such an order could be considered a waste of a Command Seal, a priceless and irreplaceable resource.

"Why ?" asked Lancer, her voice cold as ice. She wasn't looking at Illya : instead, she was glaring at Acht, who showed no sign of fear at being the target of such a look from a Servant.

"After what happened in the last Grail War, we decided not to take risks this time around," he answered. "Illyasviel will give you the details later if required. All you need to know is that when you bring the Grail here, your own wish shall be granted."

The wish. What would Lancer wish for, Illya wondered ? Maybe she'd ask her. She wouldn't be there to see it, after all.

"... Fine." Lancer scowled, before looking back at Illya. "I know that I was summoned early, and that this isn't the location of the Grail War. What is our next course of action, Master ?"

"Training," replied Acht, not leaving Illya the time to respond. "We can monitor how many Servants have been summoned from here thanks to our knowledge of the Greater Grail. You are the first, but there are still several weeks before the Grail War is officially expected to start. Illyasviel, you will train with your Servant to verify that your enhancements are working as intended. Then, once you are ready and more Servants have been summoned, you will go to Fuyuki with another two homunculi."

Lancer glanced at Acht, before returning her gaze to Illya. The child-faced girl nodded, knowing that 'training' would involve yet more pain. Every attempt would hurt, and take weeks off her limited lifespan. She didn't want to do it; she didn't even think she needed to do it to win the Grail War, or at least to accomplish her own goals in it. But she would do it anyway.

What choice did she have ?

AN : So, this chapter took a while to come out, especially for one of its length. The reason for that is a mix of IRL stuff and the fact that I have been focused on the next chapter of the Roboutian Heresy for the last few weeks.

To clarify : Illya has summoned the Servant recorded in Fate Grand Order as "Lancer Altria". Not the exact same one as in that game, of course - one must make allowances for the fact this is an AU. But the physical appearance, at least, is the same.

The inspiration for having Illya summon Arthuria (Arturia ? Arthoria ? Artoria ? Altria ? I really need to choose one spelling really soon. What do you all think ?) instead of Heracles came from the fanfic "The Artist and the Faker", by Agitated Animator on ffnet. The reasons why I then stayed with this option are multiple, and some of them would be spoilers. For now, I can say that the plan of the Einzbern in canon never really made sense to me.

I mean, let's imagine that in canon, the Grail hadn't been corrupted, Gilgamesh didn't exist, and Kirei was doing his job as Overseer properly. I know, that last one is something of a stretch, but indulge me.

Here is what would have happened : Illya summons Heracles as Berserker. She goes to Fuyuki, kills Shirou and the rest of the Servants/Masters ...

... until enough Servants are dead that she transforms into the Grail itself, which we know from what happened to Irisviel would have happened before all of them were dead.

And then what ? Are her homunculus aides supposed to take the Grail and bring it back to Germany ? I think the surviving Masters would have something to say about that, and without all seven Servants' worth of prana the Grail couldn't be used anyway. Would Heracles still be there once Illya turns into the Grail ? Even if he was, did Acht think Berserker would bring the Grail back ? I can see many, many problems with that.

I may be missing something, but from what I can see, Acht's plan makes no sense unless he just wanted to spite Kiritsugu's memory and just prove to everyone that the Einzbern could win the Grail War after the humiliations of the Third and Fourth iterations. And even then, the latter is questionable. Maybe Acht's programming just went haywire ? (By the way, whether Acht is the same creature in this fic as he is in canon is still very much up for grabs).

And so, when writing this chapter, I had two objectives : give the Einzbern a plan for the Fifth Holy Grail War that actually made sense to me, and give justice to just how terrible a life Illya has lived thus far. I hope that I succeeded. This story has, against all my expectations, become the most popular of all my works, at least according to ffnet's numbers. I won't lie : given the relative effort I put into each story, I am just the tiniest bit miffed about that, and more than a little afraid of frakking it up. But hey, I like that story too, so I will just roll with it.

In this year especially, there is something really satisfying about rising one's narrative blade in challenge to the uncaring darkness of Warhammer 40000 and the Nasuverse.

Also, saying this risks spoiling the Masters of the next two interludes, but given the choice between spoiling those or spoiling Nasu's own works, I will choose the former.

So : starting from the next chapter, this story will include spoilers for Fate/Prisma Kaleid and Fate Grand Order. There. You have been warned.

In other news : after asking my readers on Spacebattles, I have decided that the next chapter of the Roboutian Heresy (The Angel War, last part of the Terran Crucible arc) will be published in several smaller parts instead of a single, book-length update. As a result, that fic should be updated soon-ish.

Thanks you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will see you next time.

Zahariel out.

PS : While putting the finishing touches to this chapter, I found out that in canon, Illya summoned Heracles after Acht had thrown her outside in the snow, and Heracles saved her from the wolves. I ... just ... why ? What would have happened to his plans if she had died ?! ... Nevermind. I suppose in this AU, Acht is both more cunning and less needlessly cruel.