------------------------------------------------------------I support this alliance
“I..................................”
I stop and think for a moment.
Even if I was never trained properly in magic and hardly ever use what I do know, I was told about what Dead Apostles were.
Vampires.
Bloodsucking beasts of horrifically unnatural origin, or worse, a terrible nature wrought by the world itself to kill humans.
Dead Apostles in particular were perfectly efficient human killers, whatever their origin.
Many even possess Reality Marbles.
To any magus, even the leaders of the Magus Association, a fight with a Dead Apostle was something to be avoided.
Their abilities made any human Magus unable to cast True Magic pale in comparison.
A reality Marble. A World Egg.
The ability to invert reality upon itself, and replace the very physics of your local universe with the math of your soul.
It was different for everyone and everything, but to a magus like me, even a magus like Mother or Aunt Ilya..................................
And we couldn't properly trust her either.
Dead Apostles don't feed on blood for a psychological reason, like a True Ancestor.
They physically need to drain the life from a human being to fuel their immortality.
Eventually, she would come for us.
On the other hand..........
The same would apply to our enemies.
And it was true that if she wanted to kill us she likely could have done so earlier.
I can't rule out that she has some sort of psychopathic need to befriend her food, but it's highly unlikely.
Dead Apostles may be strange, and may be murderers.........
But she might be our murderer.
The extra info on Archer would help as well.
I'm still curious as to how a Heroic Spirit from the late nineteenth century exists.
Perhaps Andrea can shed some light on the matter.
Still.
“I don't trust her.”
I state my thoughts clearly.
The blonde vampire pouts, eyes narrowing into slits.
“Oh? So why don't I kill you right now and be done with it?”
Saber immediately settles herself between us and her, Excalibur raised and once again sheathed in whirling air.
“You will not harm my Master while I survive.”
She states a fact, clear as the breaking dawn.
“I already had that planned.”
Andrea is not threatened.
“I vote in favor of alliance. Two to one.”
Arturia breaks the stalemate.
The tension immediately dissipates.
“Well, that's good. I wasn't looking forward to dealing with everything on my own.”
She raises a hand to shield her eyes as the sun breaks over the houses behind us.
“Though it looks like time to go hide. Definitely if I want to catch that hunter by dawn...”
Archer suddenly glances at me, and our eyes meet.
“Saber, can I borrow the kid for a moment?”
Saber follows his gaze.
Her sword vanishes, and she rests an arm on her hip, looking deep in thought.
“Very well, Archer. If you fail to bring him back however...”
It seems Saber still doesn't trust Archer.
Archer shrugs his shoulder towards the other side of the street. This close to the shopping district, I'm not surprised to find the usual housing has been replaced by a quaint little restaurant.
His long duster billows in the wind like a pair of wings as I follow him across the street and into the shop.
Archer picks a table that's secluded, yet highly visible from multiple tables.
From here, we won't be heard, but we will be seen.
I'm struck with the feeling he's done this before....
..........No, I'm sure of it.
If he was an outlaw in life, he would have had to meet people he knew didn't trust him.
He would have had to gain their trust too.
Archer takes off his distinctive hat and lays it on the table between us before sighing deeply.
“You got some balls on you, kid, I'll give you that.”
He rests his elbows on the table and leans on it.
The waitress' untimely arrival takes only a second to disperse.
When Archer's request for whiskey turns up little, he settles for a coffee, which I order as well.
The waitress out of our hair, Archer starts again.
“You're lucky and unlucky at the same time kid.”
“What does that mean?”
“Master's the kind of girl who likes someone who isn't afraid of her. Probably comes from the fact most people are. Problem is, she gets attached to the folk she likes. I've been her Servant less than two weeks and I know that much. Hell, she likes me, I'm sure she's out there kicking pebbles just us being together.”
“What that means....”
Archer continues, idly twirling the hat on the table with one finger.
“Is that she's not just talking about an alliance for the War, Kid. She probably wants you to work with her until you die. Or until she turns you, whichever.”
Archer looks at me seriously, and I take a moment to get a good look at his face.
His face is rounder than I would have expected, and much younger. His hair is cropped short, but what there is of it is sandy blonde, like a movie star. His mouth is frowning at me right now, but the wrinkles suggest it's more used to laughter and revelry than the serious conversation we're having.
And his eyes, blue as robins eggs, are aged well beyond the face.
“Can Saber handle her, assuming she beats you first?”
“Well, I sure as hell ain't going to let that happen. But if she does beat me, and get's a bit of rest, you might be able to scare her off. She's strong, but not really Servant Strong. She managed to handle Berserker because she had the element of surprise, and he was wounded at the time.”
Well, that's a relief at least.
“Not that I'm going to stand by and let you just kill off my Master like that. Even if I had the option. I hope we have an understanding.”
“We do. And Archer? Can I ask a question?”
Our coffee is placed in front of us, and Archer tentatively takes a sip.
He must enjoy whatever is inside, since he closes his eyes and almost whispers the affirmative.
I shake my head.
Servant or not, he's still childish. Almost as childish as Aunt Ilya is.
“Do you think we made the right decision? To ally, I mean.”
Archer thinks for a moment, sipping his coffee.
“How do you get it strained like this? It's so smooth, Even the stuff we had in bars and taverns wasn't like this.”
Don't dodge the question.
Archer opens one eye lazily to look at me.
“I'm not really in a position to say. I'm not part of your little group, even if we're being all friendly now. At some point in the future, even if things go perfectly, we're going to have to turn on each other at the last moment. Is that the right choice? But if the alternative is to fight each other now. Or have Master visit you in your beds tomorrow night. Is that the right choice?”
Archer lowers the coffee cup, now drained. A small brown bead rolls down the side, which he scoops up with one finger and sucks on.
“The right choice is whatever keeps my sister alive until the end of this War.”
“The girl means a lot to you, doesn't she?”
“She's my sister. It's my job to be her shield. Saber's her sword. Without her, we're nothing.”
“I like that loyalty, Kid. Not enough of that nowadays. People like to think for themselves more often than they used to. A lot of the time it works just fine. Hell...”
He lifts his drained cup of coffee.
“Free enterprise is fueled by selfishness. This wouldn't be here if someone didn't want the money for themselves. And a good deal is where both sides go home feeling like they gained something. Problem is, most people don't know when to stop. It's one or the other. Like that Marx guy. He's old news by now, but back when I was alive, it was all fresh.”
He sighs and leans back, sinking into the soft cushions of the booth.
“On one side, the Capitalists fight for selfish enterprise like this. On the other, the Marxists or Communists or whatever they're calling themselves want everyone to be selfless. Except Selfish people aren't always right, and neither are the Selfless people. If you're spending all your time thinking about other folk, you'll starve to death after you give away all your food. And if you hoard it, then everyone hates you, because now they're starving. People just go all in on everything, and it ain't the way to go about it at all.”
“But you're loyal to your sister. As long as you know when the time is to do something she don't want you to do, you'll be good.”
“You've dodged my question again.”
“Like I said. It's up to you. I don't know all your secrets and you sure as hell don't know all of mine. But for right now, you kept your girl alive for one more day. And you can deal with the fallout tomorrow. And the day after that, the next thing on the line. The War won't last forever.”
Archer stands as the waitress approaches the table.
“Thank you for the meal, Ma'am. Always nice to have radiant service and a radiant waitress.”
The waitress blushes deeply and giggles.
“Ah, um..... Don't worry about the bill.... It's on the house.”
“Thank you.”
With an energetic sweep, he scoops his hat off the table and places it on his head.
The sheer speed at which he did it is staggering. My shirt ripples in the breeze, even as I slide out on the other side of him.
The waitress almost flies back across the shop to a gaggle of other women, who start pestering her.
I follow Archer out of the restaurant to find him lazily tossing a few coins with one hand.
“Did you steal those from the waitress?”
He turns his head to look at me.
“Nope.”
You liar.
You picked her pocket.
You probably did it when you put your hat on.
“I don't steal from women or shopkeepers like this. Not if I don't have to.”
“Who's money is it then.”
“You're smart, Kid. Figure it out.”
He waves to Andrea, who has produced a parasol from somewhere on her slight person and is struggling to keep the shade over her whole body.
“Archer, we should get back right away.”
“Right away, Master.”
And with that, the vampire and the Servant leave me, Arturia, and Saber.
“What did he want with you?”
Arturia questions me with a smile on her face, pushing me lightly with both hands.
“Come on, I bet it was some juicy gossip or something. Was he asking you for my hand in marriage?”
She gasps.
“Was he asking for Sabers?!”
Saber looks nonplussed at the suggestion.
“He was most definitely not.”
I flatly correct her.
“Good. I have no desire for my heart to be owned by two double-crossing rogues.”
Saber is firmly against the idea of the hypothetical Archer route.
How disappointing, I think dryly.
“Two?”
Arturia's knack for catching people's slip ups is legendary.
But regardless, there's something more important.
“We're late for school. And I just remembered that we forgot our lunch.”
The wind leaves Arturia and Saber alike with such speed I can almost hear the sound of air escaping.
It's like watching a car tire deflate.
“It's alright though. I brought enough money for us all to have a light lunch from the cafeteria.”
I pat my pocket.
Hm?
It's empty.
My money was just-
My money!
Arturia looks as gloomy as I feel.
“We should go home anyway. If Berserker is willing to attack during the day, we aren't safe, even at school.”
“What about the Matou Master. Did you not say she was attending school as well?”
“We can watch her later. Right now I'm hungry.”
Arturia grips her stomach as if to show how painfully empty it is.
We could head to school to observe the Matou Master. But that would be dangerous. We could also head home, warning Mother and Father and Aunt Ilya...
It’s another tossup. I feel as though these have become incredibly commonplace in my life as late.
I----------------------
1) Go to school2) Go home early