In Flight

31

"Welcome home," was the first thing we heard when we finally returned to Izumo House. Miya smiled pleasantly at the five of us as we shuffled our way in through the front door to the small lobby at the beginning of the Inn. "Did everything go well, Uzume-chan?"

I wasn't quite certain just how it was that Miya already knew about our unexpected side trip, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It wasn't like we had been particularly quiet or subtle when we were leaving earlier that night. Besides, Miya somehow always seemed to know everything that was happening in her inn. I wasn't certain if that was a characteristic of hers that originated from her background as a Not Human or if it was just something that had developed after having been a landlady for so long.
Either way, despite the fact that the sky was only now beginning to lighten with the first traces of dawn Miya appeared as unruffled and composed as if she had just stepped out of the kitchen. She was wearing her old style apron over her shrine clothes, and her eyes were crinkled in their usual cheer.
"Hey, Miya," Uzume returned the landlady's greeting, a crooked grin on her face. "Sorry for getting back so late."
"Well," Miya sniffed slightly, "while it's good to see a lay about like you getting out of the house, it's worrying to see you holding such late hours! It wouldn't do for Izumo's reputation if you were to go from being a shut in to being a delinquent!" Despite her gentle teasing, Miya's eyes opened to a more studious expression as she took in the figure still sleeping soundly while being cradled in Uzume's arms. "So is this your long absent Ashikabi, Uzume-chan?"
"Yeah," Uzume glanced down at Chiho with a tender smile once more appearing on her lips. "This is my Chiho."
"The poor dear must be worn out," Miya commented, noting the way the ill girl was still slumbering. The landlady tsked slightly. "Perhaps when she wakes up she could do with a nice bath and some breakfast."
"Ah, don't worry about that for now," Uzume shook her head, causing Miya to blink. "Right now Shirou has her under some of his evil dark brainwashing magic stuff. She shouldn't wake up for another day or so."
"Really now," Miya tsked again, though the look she gave me was more curious than anything else. "Is that truly necessary, Emiya-kun?"
"It would be pretty hard to explain just what I was going to do when I heal her," I shrugged slightly as I finished pulling off my sneakers. "It would be simpler if she just slept through the whole procedure."
Miya frowned, and for a moment it looked like there was something she wanted to say in response to my declaration. However she seemed to think better of it and the moment passed. Instead a new voice joined the impromptu gathering.
"Shirou-tan, Shirou-tan," Matsu voice came from the top of the stair, muffled probably by the door to her room. She appeared moments afterwards, one hand clutching her tablet as she made her way to the top of the stairs before pausing. "Welcome home," she chirped cheerfully. Her eyes trailed briefly to Uzume and lingered on the newest visitor to Izumo House. "Did everything go alright?"
"Actually, yes," I nodded, reviewing the events of the hospital with a clinical eye. "We managed to avoid any serious complications, and got out with Hidaka-san without fuss."
"Shirou-tan sounds surprised by that," Matsu pointed out, her lips pursing as she took note of my tone.
"I kind of am," I admitted, rubbing the back of my head briefly. "I'm used to things going wrong more often when it comes to this kind of thing."
"Who would have thought that Shirou-tan is a pessimist?" Matsu noted, though from the twitch at her lips I assumed that she was just teasing me. Then again, I do have a habit of planning for the worst that I apparently would have to work at to get over.
"So did you manage to get the supplies I requested?" I instead asked, changing the subject. For the most part the group which had formed had stalled at the foot of the stairs. Uzume, still cradling Chiho, fidgeted slightly where she stood reminding me that just because the first part of this operation had gone alright it didn't mean that the job was done yet. Matsu's grin widened a bit as she began to hop down the stairs childishly.
"Well, everyone was a little upset at first when they found out that Shirou-tan had gone out without them," Matsu began, her smile growing even wider. "But Matsu quickly found a way to get everyone motivated!"
"Oh?" I asked, wondering just why it was that Matsu found the situation amusing. "And how did you do that?"
"Well," the hacker began, finally reaching the last stair and perching proudly on it with her hands behind her back. "Matsu pointed out that she still hadn't decided who could have Friday, and then she mentioned that she might just use the traditional method in order to choose who could sleep with Shirou-tan…"
I still hadn't quite figured out what she was leading up to with her roundabout explanation when she was interrupted in her story by a loud banging noise. Despite myself I jumped, whirling around towards the loud noise while wondering if maybe the getaway hadn't been as clean as I thought it was when I discovered that the source of the noise was none other than Musubi. The shrine girl was standing proudly in the doorway, with both hands up in victory from where she had slammed open the door. Dangling from each of her elbows were shopping bags bulging slightly from their content.
"Musubi wins!" the bear Sekirei crowed happily. A second later she toppled forward with a yelp as Tsukiumi plowed into her from behind. The water Sekirei was huffing with exertion, and she nearly lost her balance as well when she ran into her rival.
"No fair!" Tsukiumi growled, looking despondent at having been beaten by Musubi once more. "I lost again!"
"Shopping race?" I asked Matsu, having already guessed at just how the devious Sekirei had diverted the rest of my flock's attention away from midnight disappearance. Matsu nodded brightly, her pigtails flopping behind her as she did so.
"Shopping race!" the hacker confirmed, though her smile grew a bit more. "Though since it was so late at night, and none of the hardware stores were open, it might be better to say 'illegal construction site scavenger hunt'."
"Oh," Miya sighed, one hand cradling her cheeks as she gave a disappointed look at the two newcomers. "To see the number of criminals in Izumo House growing. First perverted hacker women, then playboy assassins, now even streaker thieves! What would my husband say if he could see such a thing?"
"Playboy assassins?" I muttered, wondering just how I had come to have such an undignified title. That was a little harsh, even for Miya's teasing.
"Streaker?" Musubi repeated, putting one hand to her cheek in confusion as she repeated the unfamiliar word.
"Landlady!" Tsukiumi on the other hand seemed to understand what it was Miya was implying, and flushed as she protested the title.
"Um," Uzume chimed in, interrupting the lighthearted atmosphere that was starting to develop. She hefted her sleeping Ashikabi in her arms, drawing attention to the fact that there was still a sick person in need of treatment present. "Not to be impatient or anything, but can we focus on the important things first?"
"Right," I nodded, agreeing with the Veiled Sekirei. Then I paused, realizing that there might have been another hole in my planning. It looked like the success of the extraction was being counterbalanced by the numerous oversights in the rest of the operation. That strangely made me feel better about the ease with which we pulled it off.
I don't think it counts as paranoia when vast amounts of personal experience and empirical evidence supports my belief that if anything can go wrong it probably will.
"Asama-san," I began politely, and in response Miya's eyes instantly narrowed as she took in my tone. It looked like she was beginning to know me a little too well, either that or I still wasn't that good at concealing my nervousness. "You know how I already promised to repair the dining room, right? So it doesn't matter if I have to repair it a bit more than I do right now, right?"
"Emiya-kun," Miya said, darkness beginning to grow ominously behind her as she read my train of thought. "I hope you aren't planning on doing something prohibited, are you?"
I cleared my throat, glancing away awkwardly as I did so. "It's for a good cause?" I pointed out hopefully, and the darkness behind the landlady only grew further as I dodged her question.
*Scene Break*
"Oi," Homura interrupted himself with a yawn so wide that he had to shut his eyes from the force of it. When he finally finished he rubbed at his face sleepily, shutting the door behind him as he entered the dining room. "Is Shirou back yet? I have a few things I want to talk to him about… good god!"
"Good morning, Homura," I greeted him, pausing in my work as I wiped a bit of chalk dust off my face. Homura stared at me, then down to what I was working on, his eyes wide as he took in the sight before him.
"What are you doing to the living room?" he demanded in an incredulous voice. "What do you think Miya is going to do when she finds out about this?"
"She already told me," I shuddered, glancing over to where the aforementioned landlady was standing in the frame that divided the living room from the kitchen, a dark shadow still hanging over her as she glared at me. "In great detail," I added, another shudder going through my body as I did so.
"And she still let you do it?" Homura asked, morbid curiosity in his voice as he glanced around the room, taking in the rest of the details he apparently missed in his shock.
"I pulled up the tatami mats first," I pointed out, returning to my work as I did so. "I would have had to do that anyway when I started fixing the walls. And I'll be able to sand the paint off later, once I'm finished."
"Just what are you doing?" Homura demanded, before he paused. His head cocked to the side as his eyes narrowed in inadvertent curiosity. "And why are you doing it in the dining room?"
"I'm constructing a magic circle in order to help with healing Uzume's Ashikabi," I explained, carefully adding another element to the circle in chalk before checking back to the compass I was using to orient the elements of the circle. "And the reason I'm doing this here is because there isn't the space for it anywhere else, not now that my workshop has been destroyed."
For a moment, Homura just stared at me blankly, before seemingly inadvertently turning his head to take in the details of my construct. The rest of the room also seemed to be interested in my ongoings, and with Homura here now the whole of Izumo had turned up to watch me prepare my spellcraft.
Tsukiumi was frowning where she was kneeling at the edge of the room, as though trying to somehow piece together the intent of the circle I was inscribing with chalk and then tracing over with paint. Beside her, Musubi just looked curious, head cocked to the side as she watched nonjudgmentally. On the opposite side of the room both Akitsu and Kazehana had taken their own seats, the snow woman kneeling quietly and staring more at me then at the circle while the Wind Sekirei had brought forth a bottle of sake which she was sipping directly from. Matsu had set up shop on one of the free walls between where the other four had seated themselves, and the hacker was frequently bringing up her doohickey to tap away at it quickly as she glanced between it and the circle. Judging from the way her lips pursed up, the inquisitive Sekirei was actually trying to make sense of the unfamiliar shapes and designs I had been painting onto the dining room floor. Uzume had chosen the wall opposite Matsu in order to rest against, and though Chiho was still asleep Miya had provided some blankets and a pillow so the sick girl could rest more comfortably. The only one left was Kuu-chan, and she was currently…
"Akitsu, she's trying again," I pointed out, and the snow woman reached out with her usual deliberateness to put her arm around Kuu's waist and pull her away from the open paint can. The young girl pouted, childishly upset over once more being denied the opportunity to engage in the god given right of children to make absolute messes out of themselves when in the proximity of something which would take forever to wash off.
"Fuugh!" Kuu grunted, sticking her tongue out at Akitsu as the snow woman impassively set the younger girl in her lap. Kuu struggled for a moment before discovering that the older Sekirei, while being gentle, was still not going to let her up. The Green Girl folded her arms and began to pout. I don't know why, considering she had already gotten into the paint three times by this point and had several childish hand sized prints on her dress already.
"You can't play with that, Kuu-chan," I reminded her once more, before pulling the paint can closer so that I could trace another set of chalk that I had deemed properly formed. "This paint has lead in it, so it's not a toy for kids."
"Lead paint?" Homura repeated, glancing at the can in surprise. "Isn't that stuff supposed to be illegal these days? Something about the paint chips being poisonous? Where on earth did you even find the stuff?"
"There's always someone out there willing to ignore the law if it means they can't save a few yen," I pointed out cynically. "The trick is just figuring out where they're hiding their secrets."
"Matsu managed to find some in a shipyard," the hacker added, glancing up at Homura as though just noticing he arrived.
"And if it hadn't been so far away, then I would have run that race," Tsukiumi added, folding her arms as she scowled. Musubi grinned, puffing out her chest.
"But you still lost," she pointed out, causing Tsukiumi's scowl to grow. "And a loss is a loss!"
"All that aside, why are you using lead paint in the first place?" Homura demanded, absently scratching at his chest before letting his arms drop again.
"Well, certain heavy metals and elements are more conducive to prana," I explained holding a thumb up to judge the size of a loop I was painting. It looked like it was the right size, and this was one of the circles I was familiar with, so I judged it complete and turned to the next portion. "Magecraft can be affected by a lot of things if you're not careful."
"Shirou-tan also added more lead shavings, some silver shavings, and a bit of chalk to the paint as well," Matsu elaborated, eyebrows knitting as she casually caught the fire user up on what the rest have been watching for a while. Homura scowled at the list.
"What, that's it?" he muttered, folding his arms as he leaned against the door frame. It didn't look like he was going to come any further into the room, mostly due to the fact that there wasn't much footing left untouched by the wide circle. "Aren't you magi supposed to use the blood of virgins or something?"
"Not virgins," Matsu corrected absently, "but Shirou-tan did put some of his own in as well."
"I was being sarcastic!" Homura growled out, his hand coming up to palm his forehead in frustration. "Do you all wait till I'm asleep before doing this kind of thing, just so you can screw with me afterwards?" he complained to the room at large, before sliding his palm down his face. "And what does this thing even do, anyway?"
"No," Matsu chirped, sparing a moment to grin at the frustrated fire user as she answered his first question. "That's just the way it seems to work out!"
"And as for what this does," I picked up the explanation. "It's meant to help isolate the center of the circle from ambient mana so that magecraft performed in the middle isn't affected by the environment."
"Oh, so that's what it does," Homura said flatly. If I were to judge, I'd say my explanation didn't rate very highly on a scale of usefulness in his book. He paused, and then his eyes narrowed as he gave the circle another, more cautious look. "Shirou," he began slowly as his body tensed. "You know, you used to come back from that shed of yours covered in soot pretty often."
"Yeah?" I prompted him, giving him a confused look. "So?"
"How likely is it that this is going to somehow explode or catch fire?" he elaborated, annoyance that I hadn't been able to interpret his leading question obvious. The rest of the room stirred briefly as the fire user brought up something that most of them apparently hadn't considered yet. Miya's scowl grew, and the air behind her darkened even further.
"There is a chance so close to being zero that we're more likely to be spontaneously hit by lightning then for this circle to combust," I assured him, turning back to the circle. "This circle is so simple that I'd have to physically work at screwing it up that badly."
"It doesn't look that simple," Matsu noted, studying the numerous symbols that she still hadn't managed to identify yet.
"This is one of the most basic of circles, the kind of thing that most beginner apprentices or first generation magi would use," I explained, focusing more on my work then on the conversation. "It's an aspect of Formalcraft, the safest and easiest style of magecraft in existence."
"'Formalcraft'?" Matsu perked up, her curiosity being refocused away from studying the circle as she focused on a new unfamiliar topic. "'Style of magecraft'?"
"There are a lot of different ways to use magecraft," I explained, idly answering her question. "Some of the styles focus on rituals, like Formalcraft, and others use physical interaction, like Runes. Others require just an aria, like Spiritual Evocation."
"So do you know a lot of different types?" Homura took his turn to speak up, and judging from his tone it looked like his curiosity was starting to get the better of his earlier irritability. In response, I just shook my head.
"No," I admitted. "I studied a bit of a few different types, but I never really had much talent for them. I can use some Formalcraft, but since it takes so long to set up it's mostly useless to me. I can use some of the physical Spiritual Evocation type spells and some Runes, but Evocation is limited to my own version of Gradient Air, and my Runes are mostly good for bounded fields and wards."
"You're doing that thing again, Shirou," Homura pointed out, his voice aggrieved, and I glanced back at him, finally becoming a bit concerned by the normally even tempered Sekirei's aggressive mood. "That thing where you casually mention stuff that we have no way of knowing anything about, and then don't bother to explain them at all."
"Hmm," Matsu nodded at the fire user's words, though she didn't seem as annoyed as he did by them as he did. "Shirou-tan wasn't lying when he said that there were a lot of things he would have to catch us up on." Despite the fact that she wasn't receiving the answers she probably wanted, she began to grin deviously. "That gives Matsu an idea about what she wants to do on Friday!"
"All that aside, it still doesn't answer the question of just why you're taking up the entire dining room for this," Uzume chimed in, and though she sounded like she wasn't upset, she did sound like she was impatient. "When you were fixing Miya, all you did was just pull out your Ava-thingie and slap it on her chest. Why are you even bothering to do all this?" she nodded her head at the circle that I had spent a few hours constructing. One hand came down to gently stroke her sleeping Ashikabi's hair as she spared her a tender look. "I thought we'd be helping Chiho already."
"There wasn't much time for anything like this with Miya," I pointed out, turning back to focus on my work. The final section to the circle was almost completed, and I would be finished soon enough. "Back then the only option was to slapdash everything together and hope for the best. Now though, now we have the time to make sure this is done right, and I want to make sure that absolutely nothing can go wrong."
"Well, I can't argue with that," Uzume muttered, and though she still sounded impatient she sounded like she was willing to deal with a bit more of a wait if it meant the safety of Chiho. I gave her what I meant to be a reassuring smile, even as I sat back on my heels, looking over the circle. With a final nod, I decided it was good enough. The paint was still wet, but as long as no one scuffed it then it should be fine.
"Well," I announced. "As long as you're careful, you can bring Hidaka-san in. Just take care not to mess up the circle."
"Finally," Uzume muttered, nearly launching herself to her feet before stumbling briefly at the sudden movement. Carefully, the Veiled Sekirei put her arms on her Ashikabi and lifted her blankets and all to carry her in to the center of the mystic circle. I shifted, crawling on my knees in order to give her the space she needed to put her Ashikabi down. "Now what?" she demanded, plopping down next to her Ashikabi and opposite me.
I turned up my nose, closing my eyes as I tried to scent the power in the air. The circle was working, and it felt a little unusual to see my flock all gathered around and not be able to sense them. The only thing I could in this circle was Uzume, and I decided that shouldn't interfere. If it did, I'd just have to ask her to step out of the circle so I could focus.
"Just a second," I told her, bringing my hand up so I could look at it briefly before closing my eyes once more. In the back of my mind, a hammer was slowly being brought back as I concentrated.
"Well," Uzume spoke up, impatience back in her tone. "What are you doing? Aren't you just gonna pop that thing out already?" I grimaced, nearly losing my concentration at her sudden interruption.
"Just be quiet a second," I told her, grimacing as I put the fingers of my hand against my chest, flexing them slightly and feeling as they dug into the muscles of my pectorals. "I've only done this once before, and I got to concentrate to make sure I get it right."
"You didn't take this long before," Uzume muttered petulantly, and I felt a brief surge of annoyance at her insistence on interrupting my concentration. I let it pass though. She was worried, and I could understand that.
"That's because before I was just using a copy," I explained for her, and then I flexed my fingers again. I was about ready to begin. "This time, I'm going to use the real thing."
I clenched my hand, dragging my nails against my shirt and feeling them scratch my chest lightly. Deep within me I could feel… something beginning to stir.
I was never quite certain just how it was that Avalon came to be implanted in me. I mean, I had a good guess about when it happened, and who had done it. The one who had the scabbard before it had come to me had been my father, Kiritsugu Emiya. He was the only one who could have given it to me. The most likely time had been once he had found me in the inferno that had once been Fuyuki city. I remembered the state I had been in towards the end, and though I was young enough at the time to not question it I had recovered quickly, far too quickly, in the days afterwards.
More than that though, I was never quite certain HOW Avalon came to be in me. I mean, it wasn't like I had been opened and the scabbard fit into my insides somehow. It was too implausible to even consider physically implanting something like the sheath into a human, much a less a boy of the size I had been when it had been grafted to me. I wasn't certain if it was some esoteric use of magecraft, or maybe a function of Avalon dependent on its status as either a conceptual weapon or a Noble Phantasm, but the end result was that objects physical traits seemed to be a bit more malleable than should be expected. Whatever the case, one of the trickiest aspects of figuring out my strange healing abilities back when Rin and I had been trying to puzzle it out was figuring out how to do what I was about to.
Slowly, I began to withdraw the scabbard from my body. I could feel it, as though a thousand grains of sands were being shepherded along by another thousand ants as they trouped through the veins and organs of my body. It was as though I was being passed through a sieve of some sort, the alien particles that had inundated my body for so long being sifted out of me.
It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel very good either. By the time it was done I was a bit short on breath, and felt as though I had just woken up in a hotel bathroom covered in ice with a new scar and a note which told me to get to a hospital immediately. It was as though an organ I never knew I had was missing, and its loss had caused the rest of my insides to have shifted in an uncomfortable and noticeable way.
And in my hand, I could feel the physical weight of Avalon as for the second time in years the conceptual weapon existed in a place other than my body.
"Oh!" Kuu's voice reminded me that for all my discomfort I still had an audience. I opened my eyes in time to catch the young Sekirei as she began to clap happily at the show, no longer resisting her confinement to Akitsu's lap.
"Okay," Uzume acknowledged, head cocked to the side and a look that said she was impressed despite herself. "That was a bit different from the other times, but it was kinda cool anyway."
"That's really it, isn't it?" Homura broke in as well, his voice quiet and lacking his earlier antagonism. He was studying the scabbard like a hawk, his eyes narrow and his body tensed as he took in every gleaming detail of its blue and gold frame. "That's really the sheath of King Arthur's Excalibur."
The first time the fire user had seen Avalon he hadn't had any idea what it was, just that it was there, it was impressive looking, and it was keeping Miya from bleeding out all over the dining room floor. This time, now that he had been told just what the object really was it seemed that he was treating the sight before him with a bit more decorum.
He seemed to be the only one though.
"Shiny!" Musubi proclaimed, joining in with Kuu's clapping as she lent her efforts to the applause. "Can you do any other tricks, Shirou-san?"
"For my next one," I told her dryly, moving closer to the sleeping Chiho, "I'll make it disappear."
Uzume tensed slightly as I positioned Avalon so that its tip rested on her sleeping Ashikabi's chest, the scabbard standing straight up in the air as I once more prepared my magecraft. This time, I kept my eyes opened so I could judge whether the implantation was going properly and was treated to the sight that had apparently pleased Kuu and Musubi enough to warrant applause as I began to push the scabbard downwards into the sick girl's body.
From a distance it would appear as though Avalon was simply disappearing in a golden light which originated from the area right above Chiho's skin. Up close, I could make out the details of the mystery: Avalon was actually dissolving, breaking up into an infinite number of miniscule pieces at the point where it made contact with the other's body, the pieces glowing golden for a moment before they dissolved, sinking into Chiho's form like water being absorbed into a sponge.
It was slow going, the act stretching on for nearly a minute and a half before it was completed. Chiho shifted once during the process, some of the discomfort that I had noted myself apparently making itself known even in her sleep. At her side, Uzume fidgeted, seemed about to try and stop me, before she bit her lips and took her Ashikabi's hand in her own. Chiho settled almost immediately afterwards.
Finally, it was done. My hand rested lightly against Chiho's chest directly above where the sword had vanished into. Closing my eyes, I tried my best to sense the scabbard's presence. I grimaced, not able to detect it at all. That should be natural. Not even Saber or Rin had been able to tell that I had carried the conceptual weapon until we had been together for nearly a year, and even then it had taken some embarrassing experiments to identify it. Hesitantly, I began to feed od into Chiho, and instantly I felt as her body accepted it, the power disappearing immediately from my senses as I did so.
I relaxed. Good. If Avalon hadn't been able to receive my odic power, then it would have just lingered to my senses. That it was disappearing meant that it was still being accepted, and if it was being accepted it meant it was being used.
"Now what do we do?" Uzume asked, her voice breaking into the silence that had settled on the room after witnessing something so alien to common sense as a sheath being drawn from one person and then dissolved in the next.
"It's working," I told her, and she relaxed. "Now we just have to wait while it heals her."
*Scene Break*
Rituals. There are a lot of different types of rituals. A ritual could be something as simple as washing your hands before you eat or brushing your teeth before your bedtime. So long as it's something done regularly in a specific order to accomplish a specific task, then just about everything could be considered a ritual.
Magecraft rituals were much the same, in a way. There was a great deal of variety found classified under the rather general term. Many rituals could and would be tailored in order to better suit the needs of the individual magus. Even an Aria, an incantation, could be considered a ritual, and every magi had their own Aria even if they were performing the same miracle. If there were a thousand mysteries, then there might be ten thousand Arias.
This ritual, however simple in execution, could probably be considered a rather high end one by any other magi. Even if it was a bit of a cheat that I just happened to have a Noble Phantasm capable of performing the heavy work for me, I would have still been able to accomplish the same thing even if I didn't have Avalon anymore. It would take a long longer, and be a great deal more complicated, but I would have been able to push through.
If I had just stuck to a copy of Avalon, I wasn't actually certain whether or not I would have been able to implant it. I'd never tried to make a Traced weapon undergo a physical change as drastic as being dissolved like this. I was only just barely starting to get used to that trick that Archer used to use where he'd reshape his swords into arrows. So if I didn't use the original Avalon, then I would have had to settle with just tracing the scabbard and letting it rest on the sleeping Chiho's chest like I had with Miya. However, I had no idea whether or not that would have affected the effectiveness of the healing.
And since I was going to do this, I was going to make sure I did it right.
Even disregarding the tools I was using, this mystery was quite possible one of the most powerful and rare types of magecraft that the majority of magi would ever dream of attempting. There were plenty of ways to treat an injury for magi. They might just sever the body part needing treatment and just craft a new one to graft on. They might surgically excise the damage and then replace the lost tissue with ether or some other substitute. They could go through and target the damage and remove it, and let the body take care of the healing afterwards.
Most methods a magus might use amounted to nothing more than removal and replacement. But this? This was unreal. This wasn't replacing, this was healing. This was nearly regeneration for that matter.
Avalon at its height allowed Saber to live through mortal wounds so terrible that they would kill any other recipient out of hand, and they let her recover from them without even a scar. The Everdistant Utopia was such a powerful healing artifact that it could even stop the progression of time, halting even the aging process.
The only thing that even came close to this kind of power that I knew of was the deathlessness of a Dead Apostle, or perhaps the recovery powers of the Shinso. If any other magus were to attempt a ritual to the same effect as this one, it would most likely involve research from either of those two species, and if anyone ever found out they'd be slapped with a Sealing Designation and removed from the world with haste. Research into the Dead Apostles was one of the most common reasons for Sealing, seeing how inherently dangerous the results could be.
However, even as I was dabbling with powers that would turn many other magi green with envy, there was one inescapable fact that I couldn't quite avoid. Musubi was the first one to voice it.
"This is kind of boring," Musubi noted doubtfully, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly as she admitted to not being nearly as interested with watching me sit in a circle of paint with my hand on the sleeping Chiho without doing anything else flashy as she felt she should be.
"Musubi," Tsukiumi scolded, turning to give the shrine girl a chiding glare, despite the fact that she had been suppressing a yawn only moments ago. "That's no way to act while supporting our husband while he's working hard." While her words started strong, by the time she reached the 'working hard' bit even she sounded a bit doubtful.
"No," I corrected Tsukiumi, suppressing a yawn as I did so. "Musubi is right. This is pretty boring." The only one who seemed even the least bit excited at the moment was Matsu, and judging from the way she was typing away at the doohickey I think she had just refocused her effort on trying to document some of the symbols I used.
"Boring or not," Uzume cut in, alternating looks between myself and Chiho, "Is it working?" She still seemed apprehensive over the safety of her Ashikabi, but after nearly an hour and a half of no further development past the implantation of Avalon, even she was starting to look a little distracted.
"It's definitely working," I assured her, taking another moment to concentrate on the flow of the od in the circle. So far Avalon was still receiving my od in a steady stream. I'd already experimented with trying to feed it more, but just like with Miya there seemed to be a limit of how much it would receive before it started bleeding out an ineffective trickle into its new host. "It's a bit slow, but there's probably already been some good progress by now."
"How can you tell?" Uzume demanded, looking down at Chiho as though to try and find some change in condition on her Ashikabi. "She doesn't look any better yet…"
"That's what the circle is for," I told her. "Inside here there's virtually no mana pollution. It makes it easier for me to judge the show of prana. Trust me. It's working." My eyes knit as I too gave Chiho a studying glance. Though she didn't appear overly so, she was a sickly looking girl. Her limbs were rather thin, no doubt a result of her long hospitalization, and her skin was slightly pale as well. "It's just a matter of where it's working," I added thoughtfully. "We should probably see some visible results eventually."
"What do you mean by 'where it's working', Shirou-tan?" Matsu chose this moment to interrupt. The hacker glanced up from her screen as the conversation apparently veered into something she felt noteworthy. With a shrug, I decided to explain. If nothing else it would help set Uzume at ease, and quite frankly, a little conversation would help pass the time a little quicker.
I was going to be here for a while, after all.
"I told you before that Avalon was meant only for Saber," I reminded the hacker of the conversation from the night before. "I also said that even if I can use it, I can't use it as well as she could. Even if I can use it to recover from mortal wounds, Avalon is, well, it's a bit finicky."
"Finicky like how?" the hacker prompted, curiosity in her eyes as she pressed me for details.
"Well, for one thing I can only use it to heal one injury at a time," I revealed shrugging as I let my flock know some of my limitations when it came to my abilities with the scabbard. "And I can't really select which wound it focuses on either. It just happens at random."
"That doesn't sound very safe," Matsu noted, her eyes crinkling as she considered the ramifications of my limitations. "So if you were to have a serious injury and a not serious injury, it might start healing the unimportant one first? What happens to the serious injury then?"
"It's left untreated until it gets its turn," I explained. Matsu's lips twisted at my unscientific method of dealing with Avalon's quirks. Perhaps she was hoping that I had some sort of fall back procedure or other method of dealing with my injuries, but if she was then she was going to be disappointed. My standard procedure for injuries had two steps and that was about it.
The first step, do your best to avoid getting injured. It had taken me a lot longer than it should have to learn that one. The second step is to just ignore it until it goes away.
"So than what's going on right now?" Uzume prompted me, bringing my attention back to her Ashikabi.
"Right now Avalon is dealing with the accumulated damage of years of sickness," I explained to her, nodding at Chiho as I did so. "I only got a glance at her records, but there were a lot of conditions that had built up in her. It could be focusing on any one of them, and once its finished healing that completely it will just move on to the next one until it's done."
"Wait," Uzume broke in, startling as she gave me a wide eyed look of surprise. I paused, not understanding just why she seemed so shocked. "You mean it's not just curing her sickness, but it's actually fixing everything that's wrong with her at all?"
"Well, yeah," I nodded, realizing that I hadn't had a chance to explain the specifics to the Veiled Sekirei yet. "By the time this is done, she should be as healthy as if she never was sick in the first place."
"That's great!" Musubi cheered happily, reacting to the good news with her usual good nature. "Congratulations, Uzume-chan!"
Uzume didn't seem to know how to react to my pronouncement, a shiver going through her body as she digested the news. Finally, she seemed to come to a conclusion.
"Bro," she began fervently, "if you weren't surrounded by wet paint and in the middle of something important right now than I would probably hug you so hard that it would put you through a wall." She paused, giving me a crooked grin. "When this is over, if you're right, then I still might."
"Now see here, Uzume," Tsukiumi cut in, scowling at the proclamation. "There's no need for unnecessary familiarity between my husband and you!" She folded her arms in a huff. "Now that your Ashikabi is recovering, there's no reason for you to be close to Shirou."
"Heheh!" Uzume gave her signature cackle, finally taking her eyes off of her Ashikabi so she could grin at the indignant water user. "Don't worry. After the thank you hug to Shirou you're going to have to pry me off of Chiho with a crowbar!"
"Oh that's so nice!" Kazehana giggled as Uzume revealed her immediate plans for the future. "So romantic!"
"While it is good that your Ashikabi is getting help," Miya added in, finally seeming to put aside her annoyance at my desecration of the dining room floor, "I hope you're not planning on doing anything indecent, Uzume-chan."
"All night and every night if I can get away with it," Uzume shamelessly confessed, apparently still riding the high of relief or she probably never would have said something so obvious in Miya's presence. When the dark cloud began to reform around Miya's head Uzume seemed to remember who she was talking to. "Outside of Izumo, I mean! We'll use a love motel, I swear!"
Miya continued to glower for a few more moments, drawing a few small drops of sweat from her nervous prey, before she finally relented. It looked like she was willing to let the good news overshadow her usual taking to task of unruly behavior in her home. Uzume sighed in relief, loosening the tightened grip she had unconsciously given her Ashikabi's hand.
"So how long is all this going to take, anyway?" It was Homura who spoke up then, the flame user still perched by the doorway where he had first paused after entering. He was scowling slightly, but it looked like he had lost some of his bad mood from earlier as he too was affected by the burgeoning atmosphere of excitement.
"I'm not sure how long it will take on its own," I admitted, wondering if I should try Structural Analysis on the sleeping Ashikabi. The diagnostic spell was meant for inanimate objects, and the few times I had ever tried it on something living I had gotten back nothing but the equivalent of magical static to my senses. Still, maybe if I were to compare static over the course of time I might be able to get something out of the spell. "But I plan on keeping this up for at least twenty four hours the first time."
"Will it really take that long?" Matsu once more focused in on the specifics of my abilities, sounding as though she was considering something in relation to them. Then she paused, glancing up at me again. "The first time?" she repeated, catching the last part of my sentence as well.
"How fast it takes depends on a lot of factors," I explained. "The longest it ever took me to heal was around eight hours, but that was back when Saber was around. If she was nearby Avalon would be more efficient. Of course, I did have a lot of injuries that time as well, so there's no way of knowing just how much time it would have taken without her around. But that was also when I wasn't as efficient with Avalon as I am now too…"
Matsu nodded slowly, looking sympathetic as I trailed off. "Matsu guesses this is a bit of an experiment, isn't it?" she colluded with me, shaking her head as she did so. I nodded, happy that someone understood just how little information I had to work with here. "Is that why Shirou wants to do this again as well?"
"Ideally I want at least three sessions," I confessed, Uzume perking as she paid close attention to my plans for continuing the treatment of her Ashikabi. "I want a few days between each one. It will help to check to see if there are any lingering side effects." I glanced at Uzume, and caught the way she started to take a breath to interrupt again and decided to save us both some time and just explain. "The problem is that Chiho isn't injured, but that she's sick. I know that Avalon can fix the damage to her body, but I'm not certain about how it will affect her sickness itself. Whatever she has, she caught it once before, so there's no guarantee that she won't catch it again once she's healed."
"Matsu isn't certain, but she doesn't think it will be a problem," the hacker cut in then, talking to both me and Uzume as she picked up on my train of thought. "When Matsu looked up Lupus she saw that it's very hard to catch. And even if Chiho-tan does get it again, when it's treated early it's not very dangerous."
"So there's a chance that Chiho will get sick again," Uzume summed up our concerns slowly, a small grimace forming as she did so. "But even if she gets sick, then she should be able to live with it just fine?"
"Especially if Shirou-tan's magic trick heals everything first," Matsu added for the Veiled Sekirei's benefit. "It took Chiho-tan fourteen years to get this bad, and according to her records the only reason it got so bad was because it took them a long time to identify what was wrong. If she gets checked regularly, then even if she gets sick again Chiho-tan should be able to get treatment just fine!"
Uzume spent a moment in consideration, the grimace still there, before she finally relaxed. "That's fine," she finally concluded, eyes turning back to her Ashikabi. "Even this much was more than I ever thought possible. If that's what happens after this, then we'll just deal with it then."
Even with the uncertain future before her, it looked as though Uzume wasn't regretting her choice to come to me for help. With resolution tempered by both hope and fear, Uzume turned back to her Ashikabi, reaching past my arm to gently brush her hair back from her forehead. Once again, like the night before, the sight of her obvious affection made me shift a little, a feeling of awkwardness forming in my stomach as I did so.
"Still," I was thankful for when Homura spoke up, drawing attention back to him and away from Uzume. He shifted slightly, idly reaching down to scratch at his side as he did so. "Your Thaumaturgy seems to be really useful stuff, Shirou." The fire user gave a small scowl for some reason, though I couldn't tell what it was that was still annoying him. "Going around and curing incurable diseases like this, it seems a little unfair that those magi don't try to help out more people in need."
"Well," I responded slowly, "that's because no magus worth their salt would ever bother to design a spell to cure a disease like this. It would be useless, in the end."
Homura's eyes narrowed slightly at my casual dismissal of his statement. "Useless? Why would it be useless? Just think of all the lives that could be saved it a mage were to just spend a little time putting together a spell or mystery or whatever it is you call it to just help people."
"Homura," I began, speaking pleadingly as once more the fire user's temper seemed to gain heat. "If it were that easy, then I would already be doing it. If I thought it would make a difference, then I would be spending every day in the hospital myself, helping everyone that I could. But for me, I just can't do it."
"Well why not?" Homura snapped, leaning forward aggressively as he did so.
"Homura-tan," Matsu interrupted, pursing her lips as she glanced at the fire user. She wasn't the only one in the room who seemed surprised by the other male's unusual temper. Homura shot her a quick glare, before even he realized that he was starting to be unusually angry. With a visible breath, Homura closed his eyes, and some of the tension left his body.
"For one thing, I would only be able to help one person at a time, maybe as many as three if I were to get a little creative about it," my voice was soft as I ran over the scenario in my head. Honestly, it wasn't the first time I had thought about doing just that. "But no matter how many people I saved, there would always just be more coming in, more getting hurt. It would come down to me having to choose which ones to help and which ones to ignore. There are just better ways that I could be out there saving others."
If I were to wait in a hospital then I might be able to save a person who might have been shot and mugged, or help the victims of a car crash recover. However, if I was out and about then maybe I could have stopped the mugging in the first place, or prevented the car crash from ever occurring. It was a tricky decision to make, but in the end, there were more chances for me to help others if I was in the world, not secluded from it.
It was hard, but it was the truth. Just like how sometimes love wasn't enough, in the end, you just can't save everyone.
"And even if I were to try, then eventually word would get out that there was a person with a mysterious power that could heal any wound," I continued my train of thought, staring down at the one I could save with unfocused eyes. "Somebody would take notice. Maybe some rich person would decide that there money should give them priority, or some politician who thinks that they're more important than the rest of the masses. Either way, eventually just working at a hospital would start to draw conflict. And if the word got out far enough, then eventually the Mage Association would hear of it, and if they were to get involved then probably more people than even I could heal would get injured when they came for me."
Doing something so conspicuous would definitely qualify for changing my status as a Sealing Designee from 'Hermit' to 'Philosopher'. It was dangerous enough with me just being passively hunted, but if the Association were to start searching for me aggressively, then things would only get worse.
"And even if someone else were to try and invent a mystery that could cure a disease, there's no guarantee it wouldt be effective for long," I continued, shaking my head slowly. "Don't forget, for all its power magecraft is not an infinite resource."
"You mean like the gold spell you were talking about, Shirou-tan," Matsu interpreted, understanding just what I was implying. "If someone were to invent a spell that could cure an illness, then the more times it was used then the less effective would be?"
"It's not an exact description and it's a lot more complicated then this, but if a spell would cure someone completely if used once, then if it was used twice it might just treat someone halfway," I elaborated, using a simplified example of the degeneration of mysteries. "If it was used three times, by thirds, if used four times, by quarters, and etcetera. It's not like there's just one instance of a disease or an injury at a time. There are millions of people getting sick and injured every day. Any treatment designed through magecraft would eventually be so diluted as to be completely useless."
"So what, all the powers of the universe, and they don't add up to a damn bit of good?" Homura snorted, before he paused. The fire user took another deep breath, and again I saw him visibly calm himself.
"Pretty much," I agreed, my own distaste for the inherent limitations of magic perhaps leaking through a bit. "When it comes down to it, Thaumaturgy isn't much good for making the world a better place."
I had a brief moment to wonder if maybe this was the reason magi so distained the use of magecraft for common tasks. After all, if a mystic washing machine like the one I had been tampering with were to be found in every household in Japan, then eventually it would reach the point where everyone would be wearing dirty clothes.
Musubi had been listening into most of this conversation with a curious expression on her face as it had slowly diverted further and further from just Chiho's treatment. Finally, the bear Sekirei spoke up, voicing her own concerns over the topic. "Does that mean that the more people who fight like you do, Shirou-san, the weaker you'll become?"
Somehow, I was unsurprised that part of the conversation which concerned Musubi the most related to combat in some way.
"Don't worry about me," I told her, my eyes refocusing as I gave the shrine girl a reassuring smile. "My magecraft will never be weakened like that."
"Oh?" It was Miya this time who rejoined the conversation. Though it looked like she had calmed down enough to ease up on the threat of her Hannya mask, her expression was still bordering on the disgruntled. "You sound rather certain about that, Emiya-kun. Are you perhaps being a little too confident in your abilities? Pride does come before the fall, you know."
Despite the slight annoyance in her tone which probably originated from me making a mess out of her beloved inn, I did note the way her hand strayed up in a move strangely reminiscent of Homura to trace her chest, no doubt tracing the new mark on her body, a seemingly unconscious move for the landlady. It looked like maybe she intended the warning as more than just a revenge shot for the paint.
"No," I shook my head, before hesitating briefly. It was a little unusual for me to say any more, the old lessons of Rin about the importance of secrecy for a magus clamoring in the back of my head, but these were my allies after all. I had already begun to reveal my secrets to them, so perhaps it would be for the best if I gave them a better idea of my potential. "I'm the only person in the world who can use my magecraft. There has never been anyone else, or will be anyone else, who will be able to do what I do."
"That sounds a bit like pride to my ears," Homura muttered refolding his arms as he slouched a bit further at the doorway.
"Does this have something to do with why Shirou-tan is a fugitive?" Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Matsu who managed to make the connection to my claim with what she knew of my past. "Having one of those 'Sealing Designations'?"
I nodded. "You only receive a Designation if you're doing something so dangerous that the Mage's Association can no longer over look you, or something so unusual that it might be impossible for anyone else to ever duplicate it. For me, it was mostly the latter. Like I said before, I'm probably only the seventh human in history to successfully create this skill."
"Just what is it that you did that is so special you have to get marked for study, anyway?" Homura demanded, giving me a suspicious look as he did so. "And didn't you just say that no one else could do it? Now you're saying that there were six others? Are you sure you have your facts straight?"
"It's called a Reality Marble," I began slowly, eying Homura with some concern as I did so. "And every Reality Marble is different. They're unique to whomever or whatever it is that develop them. Homura," I continued, a bit of worry in my voice as I focused on something besides my explanations. "Are you alright? You're being really cross for some reason."
Homura's lips twitched up as he glared at me for a moment, before he closed his eyes and took another visible breath. After a moment he seemed to calm, and when he opened his eyes again he looked faintly apologetic.
"Sorry," he muttered, grimacing as he did so. "For some reason I feel really tired, and I might have a fever or something. I think I might have come down with something somehow."
"A fever?" Matsu perked up, glancing over at her fellow Sekirei with a bit of concern of her own. "But Sekirei don't get sick very often."
I made sure to take a note of that particular tidbit. I hadn't been certain that Sekirei could even catch illnesses in the first place.
"Yeah, well I was always a bit unusual," Homura snorted, a reminder that the flame user had particular circumstances of his own to worry about. I gave him a searching glance of my own now, trying to determine if his present condition might be at all related to his, um, lingering progressive symptoms. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell anything from so simple a glance. I could tell that his chest was still filling out his shirt in a way that no man's should, but beyond that he looked mostly healthy. He didn't seem unusually flushed or pale, and if he really was running a fever he had no signs of sweat or discomfort.
"Oh my," Miya noted, and it seemed that she was a bit surprised herself by the fire user's confession. "Is everything alright, Homura-chan?"
"Hmm," Matsu added as well, rubbing her chin speculatively as she also contributed to Homura being the center of attention. "Perhaps Matsu should examine you, Homura-tan," she offered helpfully.
"No!" Homura instantly snapped, and here he did look a little pale. Perhaps without realizing it, he hastily crossed his arms over his chest in a way that looked defensive. A second later he seemed to realize what he was doing and rearranged his arms so they looked a little more casual. "I mean, no, but thank you," he repeated in a calmer tone. As though to get the attention off of him he turned back to me. "You said that these Reality Marbles are unique to 'whomever or whatever' develops them earlier," he pointed out, quoting my words back at me as he did so. "Does that mean that things besides humans can develop them?"
"Well, yeah," I nodded, letting him divert attention back to me. "Lots of species can develop them. It's just really, really rare for a human to do it."
"Species?" Musubi asked, head cocked to the side as she added to the conversation. "You mean like puppies or kitties?"
"Um, no," I told her, not sure why those were the first two species to pop into the shrine girl's mind, but finding myself a little curious as to exactly why they had. "Normally they show up in demons or elementals. Sometimes if a Dead Apostle lives long enough they might make one of their own, but that usually takes a few centuries at the least. The gods might have had them too, but they're long gone so there's no way of knowing nowadays."
For a moment, silence greeted my explanation. I realized that most of the room was staring at me, and even Uzume had dragged her attention from her recovering Ashikabi to give me a flat look.
"Wow," Matsu finally stated. "Shirou-tan just said something really outrageous, and he doesn't even realize it."
"Well there's a surprise," Homura snorted, his irritation returning again. "Demons and elementals? Gods?" He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Back when you winged me you mentioned 'Apostles' before. Is that the same as these 'Dead Apostles'? Just what are those supposed to be?"
"Well, the Dead Apostles are the third generation existence removed from the Type-Moon's influence," I began slowly, already knowing that the bomb I was about to drop would be particularly devastating and trying to find the best way to word it diplomatically.
"Shirou, you're doing that thing again. Please stop that and just say it straight," Homura pointed out, tapping his foot impatiently. With a sigh, I surrendered to the inevitable.
"The Type-Moon is the classification for one of the other extra-terrestrial entities which already made contact with the Earth before you Sekirei arrived," I said plainly. "The Apostles are basically alien influenced vampires."
"Alien vampires?" Uzume repeated, a touch of humor in her tone. "Seriously?" she asked, obviously deciding that something so ludicrous had to be some kind of bad joke.
"Oh! More aliens!" Musubi cheered happily, instantly taking my words as truth while the rest of the room decided to treat them more dubiously. "Do you think that they might want to be our friends?"
"No," I said firmly. "They most certainly do not. So far, including the Sekirei, there have been three alien species that I know about. Only the Sekirei have had benevolent intentions towards humanity. The Type-Moon was eventually forced into hibernation, but when it was alive it definitely didn't like humans. The Dead Apostles, its legacy, have carried on its traditions."
"And just what traditions are those?" Uzume snorted. "Covering themselves in sparkles and seducing innocent school girls?" She grinned, though I didn't get the joke she was trying to make. "Alien vampires. Right."
"No," I corrected her, my eyes narrowed. "They periodically locate isolated human towns or cities, and then infect and kill every resident in it, regardless of age and gender. They make of game of being the most vicious they can while doing so. Then they brag about it to the other Dead Apostles, and try to outdo each other for being the cruelest."
"You really are being serious," Homura finally decided, shifting uncomfortably. "Is that why you threatened to kill me and every other Sekirei when we first met?" he asked, no doubt recalling my stated intention to do just that when I misinterpreted what he meant by 'genetic information'.
"Did you really do such a thing, Emiya-kun?" Miya asked, her attention focused on me as her eyes opened to her fully attentive position.
"Back then I didn't know what Sekirei were," I nodded my confirmation. "I've been on two Apostle Hunts back before I received my Sealing Designation. The first one that we managed to stop before it progressed too far. The second one…" I trailed off, remembering that particular instance. "We got there too late to stop it completely. It got ugly."
Ugly was one way to put it. There were times that I was glad I was already as distorted as I was. Facing things like a blood starved ghoul that had once been a six year old girl with her hair in pigtails, then having to impale it to the ground long enough for one of the Enforcer's I was working with to incinerate it were the kind of things that left memories that lingered. And that wasn't even the worst of what I saw during that hunt.
My somber tone seemed to affect the room at large. Miya was the only one who seemed capable of digesting that information immediately.
"You mentioned another type of alien earlier as well," the landlady noted, her hand drifting idly down to where her sword would normally be present in her hakama. It seemed that lavenderette was willing to take my words at face value for the moment. Even if I once had the potential to becoming an enemy of her species, the fact that I was living with and even helping them now made forgiving that time a simple enough thing. Instead, it looked like Miya had chosen to focus on expanding her knowledge of the world around her, now that she had discovered it wasn't quite as simple as she always assumed it was.
I also noted that despite the inherent disbelief that she had when I revealed myself as a magus she showed little signs of doubting me now that I was talking about other aliens. That seemed a little unfair to me.
"We don't know much about it," I shifted slightly, my mind drifting into battle mode as I did so as I recalled the relevant information. "Its appearance is completely inhuman, and it has made no effort to interact with the world at large. As near as the Association can tell, it seems to be in some kind of dormant state. It does react hostilely to any attempt at interaction, killing anything that gets too close to it. For the most part the area around it is kept quarantined. It's officially been designated as the 'ORT'."
"Well," Kazehana burst in, sounding a little too loud for the somber topics. I glanced over to find the wind Sekirei lounging about outrageously, pouring herself a cup of sake dramatically as she did so. "This is so disappointing! Here I thought that we would get to be special to Ashikabi-kun, but he's already met other aliens!" She paused, shifting slightly so she could strike a provocative pose as she winked at me. Slowly, she began to push the corner of her dress down off her shoulder, revealing more of her chest then was anywhere near appropriate. "At least we can know that the others are nowhere near as sexy as we are, right, Shirou-kun?"
"Kazehana," Miya began, giving her old companion a disapproving look. "Do we need to have another discussion about appropriate behavior?"
"Sorry, sorry," Kazehana flapped one hand dismissively, making no move to reposition her clothes while she did so. Instead, she just brought her saucer to her mouth to sip at it, grinning slyly. "At least we don't have to worry about other aliens trying to steal our man," she added, still talking with casual ease. "I'll be sure to keep him well satisfied, all by myself."
"Hmph," Tsukiumi apparently took offense to the fact that the newest addition to the flock was already planning on monopolizing my time. "That will not happen!" the water user declared, folding her arms again as she glared at the upstart newcomer. "You have to wait your turn until after I've had mine!"
"Musubi too!" the bear Sekirei chimed in, tossing her fists in the air exuberantly.
As the mood began to lighten, Kazehana caught my eye surreptitiously and gave me another sly wink. It was with less surprise then before that I realized that once more the older member of my flock had deliberately set about changing the mood through the use of outrageous behavior. It seemed that Kazehana had her own experience to draw on, just like she tended to comment on mine.
I gave her a small smile back, letting myself slip out of battle mode as I did so.
At the edge of the room where he was still perched, Homura snorted. He alone didn't seem to be affected by the lightening of the atmosphere.
"Alright, alien vampires aside," he broke back in, tone slightly heated. "What about the rest? Those demons and gods that you were talking about? You really can't expect us to believe that those kind of things are real?"
"Well, demons still exist," I admitted. "But they're nowhere near as common as they used to be. The gods on the other hand are long gone. Their time, what magi call 'The Age of the Gods', ended over a millennia ago."
"The Age of the Gods?" Matsu broke in, and I realized that at some point the hacker had scooted a bit closer to where I was still reclining in the middle of the circle. Her new position put her a bit away from where Tsukiumi and Musubi were both still reacting to Kazehana's shameless provocations. It appeared that Akitsu was being pulled into the spectacle as well, as Kazehana began to adjust the mostly unresponsive ice woman's clothes in ways which made them even more provocative. Rather than appear upset over the disregard for her personal space, Akitsu seemed mildly interested in how her outfit was being rearranged.
"You mean like what that madman Minaka is always talking about?" Homura growled, taking offense to the term. Rather than being put off by his tone, I found myself agreeing with it.
"If that idiot had any idea what he was talking about, he wouldn't use that phrase so lightly," I nodded, lips twisting up into a scowl of my own. My agreement seemed to surprise Homura, and his unreasonable irritation subsided a bit.
"And what do you mean by that, Emiya-kun?" I glanced to the side to find that Miya too had adjusted her position, finally leaving the doorway to the kitchen so she could stand closer to where this new conversation was developing. She was shooting an occasional disapproving glance towards where Kazehana was continuing to distract the rest of my flock, but for now it appeared she was more interested in what I had to say.
"The Age of the Gods was a different time," I spoke softly, partly due to the gravity of the topic and partly so that I wouldn't interrupt the growing frivolity on the other side of the room. It gave me a strange feeling of relief to see my Sekirei acting so relaxed, a reminder that for all the dangerous things out there, there were still places like this where people could act so innocently. "Back then there were more Phantasmal Species, creatures out of legends. Humanity was stronger, and more powerful. And the gods were real, and walked the earth as they willed." I shook my head. "It's better that that age is lost."
"You seem to hold a dislike for the gods," Miya noted, a bit of speculation in her tone. She gave me a small smile. "Though much is unknown to me, I could tell you a bit of some of them. When humanity first came across the other Sekirei, it wasn't too uncommon for them to be worshiped."
"The Sekirei only arrived a few centuries ago," I reminded her as she once more tried to insinuate that the source of so many legends that had been passed down through the ages had their origins in her species. "By the time you arrived most of the gods were already gone. If any still lingered, they were just shadows of their former power. It wouldn't surprise me if some of the Sekirei might have been mistaken for them back then, but even if they rode on the coattails, they weren't the actual gods."
"Well if the other Sekirei weren't the actual gods you're talking about, Shirou-tan," Matsu began, pursing her lips as she fiddled with her doohickey once more, "then what were they actually like?"
"I can't honestly say," I admitted, feeling a little sheepish as I shrugged. "The gods disappeared a long time ago, and when they were around they weren't exactly the type that would let themselves be studied. They were powerful though, capable of using sorceries long lost to the rest of the world." I scowled briefly, my mood shifting a bit. "And unfortunately, they were all jerks."
"Isn't that kind of sacrilegious or something, bro?" Uzume pointed out. The Veiled Sekirei was listening in to the conversation that had developed between Homura, Matsu, Miya, and I more due to her enforced proximity to her Ashikabi, but I had the impression that even if she had the option of leaving she wouldn't. Uzume had already proven herself to have the kind of mindset to deal with this kind of topic, so I didn't make any particular effort to exclude her.
"Maybe," I shrugged again, "but it was true. It was called 'The Age of Gods' because it was the time when the gods were the definitive powers on the earth. There wasn't much humanity could do to stop them. And the gods didn't exactly hold humanity's safety in high regard."
"I'd never heard it put that way before," Homura muttered, his eyes unfocused as he took in my words. "But it does kind of make sense."
It was a reminder that out of all the Sekirei I knew, Homura always seemed to be the one most knowledgeable on human mythology. It made me wonder just what it was he got up to in his spare time.
I was again greeted by the mental image of Homura's room being filled with stacks upon stacks of books, the fire user perched somewhere in the middle of them flipping through a selection of a dozen tomes simultaneously while puffing away at one of his cigarettes.
"Matsu doesn't understand," the hacker pointed out, puffing her cheeks as the conversation between Homura and I went right over her head. Miya didn't add anything herself, but judging from the way she had cocked her head to the side it looked like she was confused as well.
"Most of the legends from back then involve the gods having children with whoever they wanted, without any concern for whether or not their partners were married or not," Homura muttered, shifting as he did so. "And there are stories where gods would screw over a human just because they didn't like them, or because they wanted to help the one they did like."
"The gods did what the gods wanted to do, and humanity was the one who had to deal with the fallout," I summed up, shaking my head at the conclusion.
"So basically you're saying that the gods were to humans what MBI is to Sekirei," Uzume pointed out a bit dryly. I blinked, honestly never having made that connection before, but nodded slowly.
Yeah, that wasn't too bad a way to put it.
"Surely it can't be as bad as you seem to think," Miya protested, huffing slightly as she did so. "Legends are simply legends, and much of what might have been passed down was surely exaggerated."
It took me a second to figure out why she seemed to be taking so much offense to the direction the topic had turned before I remembered that she had once professed to being a goddess herself. I had to suppress a snort at the thought that she would have taken her self-styled title seriously enough to try and defend the other more literal gods from slander.
"Less than you might think," I told her. "Some of the stories from that time might seem outrageous now, but more of them are true then you realize."
"It hardly seems possible that many of the legends I have heard could be accomplished by just normal people," Miya pointed out. I blinked, not quite sure how to react to that statement.
On one hand, Miya did have a point. Most people just aren't capable of awesome feats of strength or power like the Heroes in legends. Then again, that was the point of the word 'Hero'. A Hero was someone who surpassed all human limitations, who managed to rise above all conflict, above all oppression, and be victorious regardless of the odds stacked against them. The very act of being a Hero, of having your name inscribed in stories which echoed through the ages was proof of having become something greater than the rest of humanity. It was rare, only happening once or twice in a generation, and had grown even rarer in recent times. There was nothing wrong with doubting that such an unusual event might not have been exaggerated.
On the other hand though, her doubt did have the feel of condescension that so many nonhuman entities had towards humanity as a whole. It annoyed me, even if only briefly, to have my species so casually dismissed even if Miya probably had a fairly good excuse for looking down on it.
She was standing at a higher level, so looking down was only natural.
"Miya," I began, "can I ask you a question?" When the landlady gave me a curious look, I continued. "Who was it that adjusted the original Sekirei?"
"Adjusted the originals?" Miya repeated, blinking in surprise at my seemingly random question.
"Isn't that why the Sekirei needed MBI in the first place?" I prompted her. "So they don't accidently kill their Ashikabi? Even when they are adjusted, sometimes accidents still happen?" Miya blinked, and I nodded towards Akitsu discreetly. Her eyes widened as she remembered my confession of how the one time I had been with a Sekirei the consummation had ended with broken ribs for me.
When I glanced over myself I discovered that at one point or another the playful fighting in that corner of the room had degenerated into some sort of contest to rearrange the ice woman's kimono in the most provocative ways possible. Even Kuu-chan seemed to be getting into it, tugging at the docile Akitsu's chains while giggling childishly. Akitsu, despite the way she was being played with seemed to be maintaining her habit of keeping silent watch over me, and when she saw my eyes land on her she once more seemed to preen herself, a small blush on her face as she did so. I turned away quickly myself, clearing my throat slightly as I fought my own blush.
"For the other Sekirei it was the authority holders who bore the Jinki who were able to adjust their Sekirei's power," Miya informed me, pursing her lips as she thought about my question. It looked like she was so focused on my line of inquiry that she hadn't even noted the descent into decadence occurring in the corner of the room.
"So back then there were only seven people capable of making sure that Sekirei didn't accidently damage their Ashikabi," I summed up for her. "So all one hundred and seven Sekirei from each ship, plus the others like you, they all ended up with the same Ashikabi?"
"Well, no," Miya admitted, still seemingly lost in thought. "The feathers of each ship would end up with a variety of different Ashikabi…"
"And what, the one with the Jinki would just happily adjust the other Ashikabi's Sekirei, despite the fact that they were often fighting for control of the Jinki itself?" I pointed out, and Miya's frown grew as I brought up a point she had probably not considered too closely herself in the past.
"Matsu see's Shirou-tan's point," the hacker interrupted, also looking contemplative as she noted what I was getting at. "But she doesn't see where he's going with it."
"I'm saying that back then, the humans probably didn't need their Sekirei to be adjusted," I summed up for them, "because back then, humanity was a lot stronger, strong enough to withstand their power, even if only in part."
"What do you mean?" Homura instantly demanded, his tone turning aggressive once more. I didn't call him out on his bad temper, choosing instead to focus on answering his question.
"Back then it was a different time," I explained quietly, recalling what I knew of the old days. "Back then, only one child in three survived past infancy. It was a custom for many cultures not to name a newborn until they were at least a year old so that if they did die it would be easier to mourn them. When people got sick, they were less likely to recover, and only the strongest actually survived to adult hood. People were tougher back then, they had to be, and were a lot stronger in many ways then people in modern times."
"That's a rather Darwinian way to look at things, Shirou-tan," Matsu pointed out, looking uncomfortable at the scenario I was presenting to her. Homura snorted.
"Darwinian? Hell, that's straight out Nietzschian," he muttered.
"I've never read Nietzsche," I admitted, though I knew enough about the philosopher to understand the fire user's reference. "But it was the truth. There are some who theorize that it's not just about genetics or survival of the fittest that, but that humanity is in a way like magecraft, that we're not an unlimited resource and that the more of us that exist the weaker we are in general. There's no way of knowing if that's true, but humanity has changed a lot since the Age of the Gods. The Unified Language has been lost for thousands of years, magecraft has degenerated to a shadow of what it used to be, there hasn't been a person capable of becoming a hero in centuries…"
I trailed off, and a brief silence settled over the five of us as they digested the newest secret I had shared with them.
"And you're just okay with that?" Homura finally demanded, and I noted the way his knuckles were white as they clenched onto his biceps. "Just okay with saying, hey, my species is getting weaker, but who cares?"
"If I cared about that kind of thing, I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing right now," I told him sharply, nodding down at where my hand rested on Chiho. Realizing what I was implying, Uzume clutched at her Ashikabi's hand tighter, drawing it to rest against her chest.
In the old days, this gentle girl would already be dead, a victim of the illness and weakness that had beset her throughout her life. Uzume would either never have met her, or would have already been terminated when her Ashikabi died after having winged her.
There was no way that I would ever consider that to be the best answer.
Never.
"Even if humanity is weaker these days, it's happier," I continued my explanation. "More people are living longer, and having happier lives. More people are saved, and able to enjoy themselves. I can't ever think that this is a bad thing."
"Damn straight, bro," Uzume swore, her tone fervent as she agreed with me. Homura seemed to realize that he had just ventured into dangerous ground, and once more he seemed to make a visible effort to compose himself. It took longer this time then it had earlier.
"Still," Miya decided to interject at this point. The landlady had a somber look of her own on, her eyes slightly unfocused. It appeared that even she had never really thought of a lot of these points, though it was most likely that she was more focused on the revelation that humanity was once more than it was now. She was most likely trying to recall what she could of the memories she had shared with the other seven whom had been like her so she could compare what she knew from then to what I had told her now. "You seem to be very educated on these matters, Emiya-kun," she noted, her tone distant. "Do you have any basis for your claims?"
"Yeah," I nodded, and Miya blinked. The last time she had asked me for proof I hadn't been able to produce any. It was obvious she had thought this would be the case again. "I've met people from those times."
"Met them…" Miya began, her eyes focusing on me as she tried to puzzle out what I was implying.
"The Grail War," Matsu once more proved to be the fastest one to make the connection. Homura's eyes shot open as he understood what Matsu was pointing out. "Those Heroic Spirits you mentioned."
"Heroic Spirits like King Arthur," Homura added, almost growling as he did so. "King Arthur, whom you were having sex with."
"Well, she was the only one I did that with," I pointed out, a little uncomfortable by the fire user's fixation on my relationship with my former Servant. "But there were seven others that I absolutely did nothing of the sort with."
"Seven other legendary heroes," Homura continued, apparently not having heard my defense. For a moment, I was worried that Homura might descend even further into his inexplicable annoyance as he paused for a moment, tension seeping into his body. However, inexplicably, the tension seemed to vanish completely.
"Who were they?" he finally asked me, his temper gone and a strangely plaintive tone in his voice. It seemed as though his curiosity, his desire to know more about the actual legends he had most likely read about actually managed to dissuade him from his irritation.
"Well, we never actually managed to figure out who the Rider was," I admitted, scratching my cheek idly as I recalled each of the legends that I had met during those intense two weeks. "She was simply killed before we could get enough information to guess who she was."
"The Rider?" Matsu interjected, once more focusing on specific pieces of information that she was curious about.
"I told you that each of the Spirits were summoned into one of seven archetypes," I reminded the hacker. "The Rider was the title for one of those classes."
"Wait," Homura interjected, holding up one hand. "You said there were seven of these classes, but that there were eight spirits."
"One of the original Servants from the Fourth war managed to survive," I explained, eyes narrowed as I recalled the anomalous eighth Servant of the Fifth Grail War. "He decided to use the Fifth war as a second chance to get the Grail."
"Well, who was it? The one who survived?" Homura demanded, looking impatient despite the fact that his own interruption was the source of the delay.
"Gilgamesh," I told him bluntly.
It actually took him a second to process the thought. For a moment he just looked confused, still leaning forward impatiently as though he didn't quite comprehend what I had said. Then his arms dropped to the side as they apparently lost all tension in shock, and he wobbled slightly as his knees shook.
"Gilgamesh," he repeated flatly. "As in, 'Gilgamesh of Uruk'? From 'The Epic of Gilgamesh'?"
"That's the one," I nodded. I knew it was uncharitable, but I actually felt a little satisfaction at having apparently knocked the wind out of the fire user's sails with that declaration. He had been rather harsh with me for the entire conversation, and even if he wasn't feeling very good by his own admission it was still a little annoying for me to be constantly targeted by unwarranted aggression.
"Gilgamesh?" Uzume repeated, apparently not having recognized the name. Matsu also seemed confused, though she quickly turned to her tablet in order to no doubt look up the name on her own.
"Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes," I elaborated. "The oldest story in human history, originally recorded in cuneiform over six thousand years ago, the very first legend."
"Do you enjoy doing this to me, Shirou?" Homura asked plaintively, his expression wounded as he gave me a lost look. "Do you get pleasure from destroying my preconceptions? What's next, Hercules or something?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but then hesitated. Homura had already admitted to not feeling well, and with his newly paled expression it really looked as though he might be ill. I wasn't certain whether or not he could take another shock like that.
Unfortunately, Homura caught my pause and seemed to interpret it correctly.
"Oh come on!" he snapped, still pale but now scowling furiously at me once more.
"It was a contest for a magical device supposedly capable of granting any wish," I pointed out, starting to feel bad about my earlier enjoyment over his shock. "It's only natural that the participants would go out of their way to find the strongest Heroic Spirits they could to increase their chances."
"Even then there has to be limits," Homura snapped, raking a hand through his hair as he glared at me. "Shirou, if you have any other drastic revelations like that, then feel free not to share them for now. I don't think I can take much more."
"Noted," I told him, agreeing with his plea for ignorance in the face of world shaking shocks. For a second Homura studied me, probably trying to decide if I was being honest or not, before he finally re-crossed his arms.
"Good," he muttered. "Now, who were the other ones?" Despite the perception shattering revelations of the first two, it seemed that Homura's curiosity over just which legends I had met first hand was enough for him to press on, even with his ill health.
I decided to just list the rest out, and hope that with those two names already on the table the others wouldn't be nearly as disconcerting to the fire user.
"Medea of Colchis, the Witch of Betrayal. Cu Cuhlainn, the Hound of Ireland. Sasaki Kojirou, the rival of Musashi," I informed him, and with each name his fingers tightened even further around his biceps.
However, when I got to the last Servant of the Grail War, I hesitated. Homura, whom had been watching me like a hawk, seemed to catch on immediately.
"Well?" he demanded, his voice once more impatient.
"You just told me not to share anything too drastic," I reminded him, and he paused, eyes narrowing.
"And just what could be more drastic then both Gilgamesh and Hercules?" he demanded, and I glanced to the side awkwardly.
The final Servant of the Grail War had been Rin's Archer. And considering the true identify of Archer…
"There seriously was another hero so outrageous that you don't think I can handle it?" Homura noted, once more starting to go a bit limp in the knees. When I nodded, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Finally, after a moments tension he pushed himself up and off the door frame he had been leaning on. "I'm going back to bed," he announced, one hand coming up to cradle his temple as he did so. "Hopefully, when I wake up things will make sense again."
The four of us watched as Homura stomped away, presumably heading back to his room to follow through with his stated plans. An awkward silence settled on the group as a whole. For various reasons, it didn't seem like anyone else felt like continuing the conversation. Miya had most of her attention focused on the ground, her eyes unfocused as she probably returned to considering the information I had pointed out to her earlier about humanity's past. Matsu was too busy typing away at her tablet, her tongue peeking out from between her lips as she concentrated on probably any number of things that had been discussed that were of interest to her.
Uzume and I shared a brief, uncomfortable glance, before I looked over to where the rest of the flock had apparently managed to miss the confrontation between Homura and I completely. I quickly glanced away when I saw that the impromptu makeover session had spread onward to Tsukiumi, who was flushed with what could be either anger or embarrassment as Musubi laughingly tugged at the fasteners of her long coat.
Finally, Uzume shrugged.
"So," she began awkwardly. "Want me to turn on the TV then?"
"Yes," I nodded, happy for the distraction.
*Scene Break*
For twenty four hours, I planned on manipulating an ancient artifact that was both a Conceptual Weapon and a Noble Phantasm to heal a girl of an incurable disease and the ravages it had inflicted on her body through the very manipulation of reality itself.
When put that way, it sounded very dramatic. However, when it came right down to it, Musubi was right when she had summed it up as 'boring'.
For all the import of what I was attempting, I was in effect doing nothing more than sitting still for an entire day while utilizing what settled at being only trace amounts of my odic power. Just like with Miya, once Avalon reached the limit of its ability to absorb my power it only required a faint trickle to resupply the energy it was leaking out into Chiho, and thus the strain on my circuits was rather negligible. I could still feel my power coursing through me, but it was in no way strenuous besides the concentration necessary to continue the flow.
It only took an hour before the rest of Izumo House decided that nothing exciting was going to happen. Freshly chastised for their descent into indecency earlier, Miya eventually set everyone else about on their daily chores, Tsukiumi grumbling briefly about being selected for cleaning the bath yet again.
It was three hours after I had begun the process that I eventually decided to take a ten minute break to stretch my legs and visit the restroom. Uzume protested briefly at the interruption, but ended up performing the same tasks herself before I resumed the ritual and Uzume continued her vigil.
It was five hours into the treatment that I decided all daytime television was worthless, and began to work on theoretical methods to hunt down and assassinate the ones responsible for the mindless drivel, purely as a mental exorcise. Uzume took it on herself to explain the intricate plot points of her favorite soap operas, and I felt a small part of me die inside.
Seven hours into it, my flock reassembled en masse for dinner, though most of them ate in the kitchen seeing as the dining room was still mostly covered in paint which I had literally watched dry at one point. Homura never showed up, so I assumed he was either still sleeping or maybe sulking in his room.
Twelve hours after I had started, Matsu, Musubi, Tsukiumi, Kazehana, and Kuu, whom had started a spirited game of Uno with Akitsu at one point decided to go to bed. Earlier on in the game Kazehana had teasingly suggested the loser should have to strip, and though Miya had vetoed that idea out of hand the theoretical order in which they all would have been reduced to nudity was Akitsu, Tsukiumi, Kazehana, and then Matsu. Kuu would have not lost a single stitch of her clothes.
It was fifteen hours into the process when something finally changed. I blinked sleepily, staring at the cup of coffee that Matsu had left for me earlier, as well as a stack of more of those energy drinks she had supplied me with sympathetically, when I realized something was different.
The flow of od I had been supplying to Avalon had ceased being received.
For a moment I felt a thrill of panic as I hastily checked on Chiho's status. What I found was that at some point during the mind numbingly tedious hours her complexion had reddened, the pallor of long sickness disappearing completely. Her cheeks seemed fuller now, and her limbs less thin.
It actually took my tired mind a second to realize that the most likely reason Avalon wasn't taking any more od was because it didn't need it anymore. Chiho was probably completely healed by this point.
"Uzume," I began excitedly, all thoughts of sleep disappearing as I turned to point out the success of the ritual to the Sekirei before I paused. I hadn't even noticed, but sometime earlier it appeared that Uzume had curled up beside her Ashikabi, still cradling her hand to her chest, and was now sleeping alongside her. Their faces were inches apart, their hair intermixing into a web around their heads, probably so that the last thing Uzume would see before she slept and the first thing she'd see when she woke up was her Chiho.
For some reason, this time there was no discomfort at seeing the two of them interact so intimately. Instead, I couldn't help but feel that this was just too natural, too right, for me to be uncomfortable at witnessing.
"Congratulations, Uzume," I said softly, deciding not to wake the two. I started when a second voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Ah," the sound from the corner caused me to turn quickly to find that Akitsu was apparently still in the room. The snow woman was kneeling like a statue, so unmoving that I hadn't even noticed that she was still here. "Congratulations," she offered a moment later.
"Akitsu," I began, studying my first Sekirei in surprise. "Why are you still up?" The snow woman looked exhausted, which was no surprise really. She had been up just probably as long as I have. In fact, since I had managed to get a nap in the bath the day before she had probably been up even longer. Though she was still kneeling in an attentive position, even as I watched her head began to sleepily nod before she seemed to catch herself and forced her head back up.
"Ah," Akitsu once more gave her customary pause before she finally nodded slowly, this move deliberate rather than inadvertent. "It's Wednesday," she concluded.
"Wednesday…?" I repeated, my own exhaustion forcing me to take a second to recall the significance of that particular day. "Oh yeah," I nodded. "It's your turn to sleep with me." Akitsu glanced down, another of her shy blushes starting to form even as she did so. "Well," I began, rubbing my head awkwardly as I did so. "I'm going to be up all night, so if you want to go ahead, then that's fine."
When Akitsu didn't move, and instead just fidgeted once, rattling her chain, I finally sighed. "Come here," I invited her, patting my lap as I sat back, stretching my legs as I did so.
Akitsu instantly shifted forward, not even bothering to rise properly as she crawled at a slow pace until she reached my side. The scent of wintergreen and ice that followed her was a shock to my senses as she entered the enclosed space of the circle. Without another word, she lay down much like Uzume had, putting her head down on my lap like I had invited.
"Comfortable?" I asked her, and her blush grew slightly as she nodded slowly. I let my free hand come down to rest in her hair, and her lips quirked slightly into a small smile before she closed her eyes. I don't think she lasted two minutes before she was as asleep as everyone else in the room but me.
With a sigh, I turned back to my coffee. I took one of the energy drinks Matsu had provided me with, cracked it open and poured it into the other caffeinated beverage. Even if it did nothing more than add a bad taste to it, that should be enough to keep me up a bit longer.
"Just nine hours left," I muttered to myself, before going back to checking to see if late night television was as bad as daytime television. "Just nine more."