Fate-in time

20

When Shirou returned later in the day, he came back with a neutral expression, and Arturia was the first to greet him as she was training outside of the tavern.

Smiling, he and Arturia then made their way to the room the others were staying in inside the tavern.
The tavern that they were staying in was well established, and although it was built long ago, the owner had never neglected to forget maintenance. Logs that grew even a small patch of mold were replaced by new material, and should a leak ever occur during rain, repairs were made by packing mud. The general size of the tavern as well was relatively similar to the other log and brick based buildings of Roan.
Upon arriving at the entrance of the room, he saw that apart from the bags, the others were nowhere to be found.
Arturia scrunched her face, before coming up with an explanation. "Kay and Bors may have taken them to the back for practice," she said. She herself had been training at the front.
Shirou considered the explanation, and it was indeed reasonable. It was always good to practice, and even if the Son of Wolfred was injured, he would probably rather spectate than wallow away within the room. On the topic of the injury, he didn't even need to hesitate over his next actions. The next time he was alone with the Son of Wolfred, he would do what he could for him and attempt to heal his injury.
Placing their belongings away and changing out of their armour, the two found a place to sit by the fire. Some of the timber Arturia had collected was stacked atop the hearth with a few of the pieces being used to fuel the flame.
A gentle heat spread out across their faces, the warmth of the fire causing a primitive sort of fascination to flicker within Arturia's eyes. However, she couldn't hide the way she sighed when she subconsciously did it.
"Is there something wrong?" He asked, placing whatever he had on his mind on the side. After all, when compared to keeping Arturia happy, they would all be trivial matters at most.
She seemed to straighten her back after he voiced his question. Letting out her breath, her body sunk in on itself before she puffed her chest up and put on a cheery smile.
"What makes you think anything's wrong?" She asked a moment after collecting herself.
He gave her a critical eye, and instead of replying, he thought over her current situation. Even if he possessed the memories of Saber, he didn't necessarily understand what she was going through and feeling during those times.
Subconsciously, his fingers began to tap against the hard surface of the wooden floor, catching Arturia's eye and causing her brows to furrow.
"It's just a feeling," he ended up admitting.
"Then," Arturia turned towards him, her expression curious. "What do you feel about a joust to decide a King?"
He took a moment to consider.
To be a King was to lead the people, and to be the head of all decisions whether important or mundane. If such a position was decided solely on the ability of one's jousting skill, then what kind of consequences would that bring?
Over the course of the day, there was word of the Joust competition being moved forward ahead of schedule, but there was also protest to the idea by some of the other noble families in Roan. Regardless, such news must have reached Arturia's ears. Add to the fact that she hadn't admitted to him yet that she was planning on being King, and her troubles became apparent to him.
She was concerned that a King would be placed into power before she herself could attempt for the position. The concern was only made worse when the Vernier family wanted to push the joust forward at an earlier date.
"I feel that it is too impulsive," he said slowly. "A King is not decided by the advantage of a single ability, but in the ideology of how he governs his people."
Arturia opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with a sentence of his own.
"The good King Uther did not entrust the Kingdom to any successor, rather, his hopes were placed on a single sword," he said.
Arturia's posture was unnaturally straight, her head absently nodding after hearing his words. "Whoever draws this sword from the stone, is the true King of Britain," she whispered. Her eyes then moved to scan over him, a resolution appearing within her eyes as if she had come to a decision.
"Do you know when they have decided the time for the joust?" She asked.
"At most, three years, the least being only two," he concluded after sorting through the knowledge he had beforehand.
Presently, word had not spread of an exact time for the joust as various other matters were taking precedence: The defense of the Saxon invasion, the Jutes, and Angles. The lands were in turmoil, making it difficult to organize anything. Yet somehow, the Joust to decide the King was still pushed forward sometime during the timeline. This was why he could only give an estimate of around two or three years.
The expression on Arturia's face didn't particularly brighten after hearing his words, but it did grow more determined.
Turning his gaze away from her, he peered outside the window, and looked towards the weather outside.
It was beginning to rain, large dark clouds forming overhead that occasionally flashed with streaks of white. The wind was also beginning to pick up, causing the leaves of trees to flutter and long grass to sway.
This was the weather that two men stepped into the tavern and towards the room he and Arturia were currently staying in.
They were Sir Ector, and the most renowned Wizard in Britain, Merlin.
The first time he had met Merlin, he was going under the moniker of Nilrem. Far from being deceived by it, he had been able to easily see through it. He could understand that he was only able to do so because he was able to read and write, and such a thing could be difficult for those who could not. Still, the one matter he could not understand was why Merlin had decided not to give his real name.
"Sir Ector, Nilrem," he spoke calmly as the two stepped into the room.
Arturia's reaction was not as calm as she couldn't stop herself from standing up in shock. From what Sir Ector had said, it was going to take some time before they could locate Merlin, yet here he was. Even if she had only met the man a few times, the impression Merlin had left on her was not one that would fade so easily.
On the other hand, Sir Ector was giving Merlin a questioning look.
"Nilrem?" Sir Ector asked.
Merlin coughed into his hand. "Forget it, forget it," he waved off, not explaining anything. "What matters is that we should redo our introductions. My name is Merlin," Merlin spoke.
"A pleasure," he replied with a wry smile.
Introductions done, Merlin then turned his sole attention on Arturia. "You've grown," is all that he said before eyeing her up and down, pausing over her chest and hip areas. "In more ways than one."
Arturia's face coloured before she spluttered out in outrage. Only she would know how difficult it was becoming to wrap bandages around herself and wear a heavy leather skirt beneath her armour to mask her physique.
Merlin only hummed in the face of Arturia's indignant anger. It was, of course, not on the level of some of the other women he had been with. Rather than insult, he was warier of injury. To this regard, he knew that Arturia's disposition prevented her from physically assaulting him to a point, thus he just wouldn't cross that bottom line.
To Merlin, wooing women was like playing with fire. After all, it was in his blood. He was part Incubus on his father's side, a phantasmal beast that lies upon women, and was naturally inclined to pursue beautiful women. It couldn't be helped that he would sometimes lose himself in such activities, but he still had half a mind to prioritize different matters and recognize different variables.
Merlin's eyes glanced towards Shirou.
"Is there anything you need?" Shirou asked after crossing his arms.
"Oh, nothing of the sort boy, just curious is all. One could hardly hold my attention for too long after all," Merlin replied, his gaze setting firmly on the pouch that contained the Ashton inheritance stone that Baron Barwheld had given.
"Except for a woman," Sir Ector muttered gruffly.
Merlin smiled at Sir Ector. "Delicate creatures are what they are, hard to forget and easy to draw comfort from."
"Delicate, are we?" Arturia's brow twitched. "Perhaps you'd help test this sword of mine?"
Merlin laughed. "Girl, you are too naïve to believe that I would fall for such traps. Rather I believe it's time we moved on to the important matters," he said.
"Indeed," Sir Ector spoke, taking off his armour and placing on something more comfortable before facing Arturia. "I have trained you for the majority of your life. Integrity, honour, judgement, I have made sure to teach it all to you. At this point, after discussing a few matters with Merlin, there is not much else left to teach."
Arturia froze, her eyes appearing disbelieving as Sir Ector's words caught up with her mind. "Y-You mean," she stuttered out.
"Indeed, it is time that you welcome me as your new mentor," Merlin spoke as he stepped forward.
Arturia ignored him, eyes never leaving Sir Ector's. This caused a twitch to form over Merlin's brow. If one were to look at Merlin's reputation alone, no one should have had been able to disregard him so easily.
"S-Sir Ector, please reconsider. I have not yet learned all that I can from you," Arturia argued.
Since a young age, she had always remembered the teachings Sir Ector had taught her. Like Sir Ector had mentioned before, the majority of her life was spent under his care and tutelage. The things he had done for her, they were exactly what had shaped her to be what she was today. Just the thought that she would no longer be under his mentorship caused a feeling of panic to well from within her.
If Merlin had been the one to plant the notion of her becoming the next King, then Sir Ector had been the one to nurture and support it. Without him, she couldn't imagine what it would have had been like growing up.
"Arturia, you have to understand," Sir Ector explained with a complex expression. "It's true that I have yet to teach you all that I know, but Merlin is far more suited to be teaching you."
"Him?" Arturia's eyes scanned over Merlin, pausing over the nonchalant air the man seemed to exude.
True, Merlin was known to be the greatest Wizard across the land, and was also known to possess a plethora of information, but in terms of character, he could never beat Sir Ector.
Arturia's eyes only stayed on Merlin for a moment before she went back to pestering Sir Ector about reconsidering. This caused the normally carefree Merlin to frown before glaring at Sir Ector with a wronged expression.
"Will you not at least consider it, Arturia?" Sir Ector asked.
"I already have," Arturia spoke calmly. "Perhaps at a later point, it would be more appropriate," she said.
Merlin crossed his arms. "Ungrateful child, I hope you won't regret it when I take this boy under me."
Shirou who had been remaining silent for the majority of the conversation couldn't help but become somewhat dumbstruck as Merlin wrapped an arm around him and placed him as a shield in front of Arturia.
"Y-You can't do that," Arturia protested, her eyes narrowing. "He's also a student of Sir Ector."
It had went unspoken for the number of years both he and Arturia had spent in Bristol, that Arturia would view him as a fellow comrade under the leadership of Sir Ector. Whenever Arturia trained with Sir Ector, Shirou would be nearby and similarly receive instruction.
Not only that, but on top of Sir Ector's teaching, Shirou had also trained, and trained with, Arturia, helping her fix her short comings. For Merlin to suddenly decide to take him away from Sir Ector's teachings, to her, it was like a thief stealing away something precious.
Merlin's eyes gleamed. He did not believe that the matter would escalate to such a level, but he couldn't deny that it was quite entertaining when compared to a quick affair. Moreover, he did harbor some interest towards this particular child. Just from a glance the moment they had first, he could tell that he was a magus like himself. Thus, he could be useful if molded correctly.
"If you don't like it," Merlin began. "You could join us?"
Arturia pursed her lips before deciding to compromise.
"I'll join, but, I still want Sir Ector to continue training us," she laid down her bottom line.
"Silly child, since when did I say that I would stop training you?" Sir Ector spoke. "All that I have proposed is for you to begin training with Merlin. Of course, that would mean you'd train less with me, but it doesn't mean all training with me will stop."
Understanding, Arturia then stopped protesting Sir Ector's decisions. It was only Shirou who was left at a loss. For starters, he had not even voiced any form of agreement, and yet, like always, he was manhandled into the situation.
"Good then, it's all settled," Merlin spoke before making himself comfortable and drawing the eyes of everyone present. "What?" He ended up asking.
"You're staying here?" Arturia asked skeptically.
"Well, why not. I'll be teaching you both for the time being anyway, and who am I to ever shy away from staying near a lady, even a growing one; not to touch, but plenty content to stare at."
Arturia glowered at Merlin, knowing exactly who it was he was referring to. However, to her surprise, it was Shirou who had acted discreetly and nearly cut apart the leg of the chair Merlin was about to sit on.
Regardless though, it did not have its desired effect as Merlin sat on it with a provocative gaze. "It takes more than that to fool a Wizard," he said.
"Then what about the other one?"
"Other one?" Merlin said slowly, feeling the sudden shift in his weight.
"Yes, the other one."
It was early in the following morning that Sir Ector instructed both Shirou and Arturia to follow Merlin to some location for training. Merlin nursing a bruise on his forehead and an ache on his tailbone as he lead the way.
As it would turn out, the reason for the absence of Palamid, Kay, Bors, Emily, and the others was due to Gerrard and Charles who had dragged them along towards another matter. Either way, the group of them had only returned recently, and had yet to meet Merlin as they had set off early. Although, Sir Ector did manage to explain to them the situation, answering most of their questions.
"Sir Ector has let me know the exact extent of your training thus far," Merlin said to Arturia as he led them to an open plain a distance away from Roan. "Knowing this, what you lack is your understanding of what the common people call, magic."
Hearing Merlin's words, Arturia couldn't help but glance in Shirou's direction, remembering the various things he had once done before her. Merlin took note of this, but did not bring up the matter, instead, motioning for Arturia to take a seat. He then turned his attention towards Shirou.
"You are quite young," Merlin said plainly. "Now how much do you really know about magic?"
That was a hard question for Shirou to answer. To understand why, one must know that the principles of magic had been greatly weakened in the present day modern world. This was due to the emergence of technology and the development of civilization. The effect of such mysteries or magic to summon fire for example was greatly reduced since science was able to replicate the effect. In this regard, what was once magic would then be considered a mere 'craft,' thus losing many different magics in this way in the future.
"Mage craft would be more of an appropriate term," he ended up saying.
Merlin raised a brow. To him, he knew of many magics unable to be reproduced by the mortals of the area; conjuring water from the air as an example. For Shirou to use the term 'craft' in his magic, was it already something replicable? He would not forget to look into the matter. For the time being though, he needed to focus his attention on Arturia.
"How much do you trust this young man?" Merlin asked to Arturia before anything else.
"I trust him," Arturia didn't even have to think about it. To her, Shirou was… someone she believed could never be replaced.
Noting the expression on Arturia's face, Merlin could only sigh. "A flower that blooms only in one direction is no longer a flower for all," he whispered sagely.
Arturia raised a brow, causing Merlin to run a hand through his white hair. "Ignorant too, but I suppose it doesn't matter much, look here and don't ignore me, either of you," he said.
Crossing her arms, Arturia spread out her legs and leaned her back against a stone, waiting patiently for Merlin to begin. Shirou though, chose to continue standing, leaning his weight against the same rock that Arturia's back was pressed to.
"We'll first begin with you," Merlin said turning to Arturia. "Your father, King Uther-"
Arturia's eyes widened before she turned her gaze towards Shirou. "I didn't mean to hide it," she blurted out. "It was just, I couldn't find a good time to bring it up."
Shirou only shook his head before smiling, and then promptly voicing his opnion.
"Don't worry. Now, and even in the future, nothing that you do will ever offend me," he spoke seriously. It was how he truly felt. Just as a man would risk everything for his love, he was much the same. In fact, he was probably more so. In the Fuyuki fire, he had become distorted, making his views and ideals in life vastly different from the average man or magus. The fact that Arturia was able to take a place in his heart showed just how important she was to him to the point of even affecting his Reality Marble, a manifestation of one's inner world.
Arturia's mouth was opening and closing, but she couldn't find the proper words to speak, instead, she mutely turned her face away while pulling her knees to her chest.
In this regard, Merlin was the one who was left flabbergasted, staring incredulously at Shirou in equal parts admiration and dislike before composing himself.
"Like I was saying," Merlin began after Arturia steadied herself. "Your father, King Uther ordered me to grant upon you the factor of the Dragon," he said.
"What does that mean?" Arturia asked.
Instead of answering, Merlin asked a question of his own. "Did you never find it strange why you can endure longer than others? And even why that poison Sir Ector informed me of during that competition didn't affect you?"
"Wasn't that because you put magic on me the last time we met?" Arturia asked.
"The answer to that question is, no," Merlin said. "Rather, everything lies within your blood which carries the element of the Red Dragon," he explained.
The Red Dragon was a strong species of phantasmal beast that could rival even the strength of the mightiest mages and other breeds of phantasmal beasts.
"Because you possess the element of the Red Dragon, you carry its very magical power and resistance. This grants you a heart and Magic Circuits, the conduits to a mage's magic, that transcend what can be achieved by normal mortals."
Merlin presented a palm out for both Shirou and Arturia to see. Moments later, a small line of blue pattern ran up to the center of Merlin's palm that held a seed. "The ability of magic circuits is to convert the ambient mana present in the air into usable energy for the body to use," he said, and upon finishing, the seed in his hand bloomed into a flower.
"What you possess, Arturia, is something much more, a magic core," Merlin said. "If a normal magi's body could be considered a single toolthat creates magical energy, then your magic core is equivalent to a workshop which creates magical energy. It is able to generate magical energy separate from what your body can harness simply through breathing like the phantasmal species of dragons. What you're missing, Arturia, is the key to tap into that power."
Arturia who had once had her arms crossed, was now paying rapt attention. If she could be like Shirou and utilize her own magic, perhaps to augment herself, then what did she have to fear from stronger enemies? She herself would become a force to be reckoned with.
"Then what should I do first?" Arturia asked, standing up and lightly brushing off the dirt that had collected on her clothes. "And how do I utilize magic in the first place?"
Arturia realized that Merlin was giving her a smug look. Thinking back about how she had disregarded him before, she could only humph and give the man a moment to enjoy his small victory.
"Simple," Merlin replied before waving his staff. "Just as dragons toss their young off cliffs to teach them to fly, unlocking the key to your magic will be much the same."
"YOOUUU!"
Was all Arturia could yell before a branch wrapped around her leg and hoisted her six feet into the air, leaving her to dangle. No matter how much she tried to cut away at the vine entangling her leg, no damage could be seen.
"Get me down from here!" Arturia blustered, heat rising to her face as she realized just how much of an idiot she looked like right now. As the branch had only grabbed hold of one of her legs, her other one was left awkwardly falling to one side. If Kay saw such a thing, she knew he would always hold it against her, bringing it up only to tease her. What was worse was that Shirou was the one who saw it instead.
"Unfortunately, I will not let you down from there," Merlin said with a smile. "You see, that vine is not something that can be cut without utilizing the highest grade of magical energy in a single burst. The energy supplied by your magical core in a mere moment should be enough to allow you to escape the vine's hold. All that's left for you to do is to feel out for and utilize it, otherwise I'll just leave you to hang for a while."
With that said, Merlin motioned for Shirou to follow him as they both quickly left the area, Shirou giving an apologetic look towards Arturia. Although Merlin was not known widely for having a good character, Shirou did not doubt his methods in training others.
A moment later, and Merlin had lead Shirou deep into a forest.
Leaning against a tree, Merlin then spoke. "Well, my little magus friend, it appears that fate indeed would have us meet again, but I'm not one to believe in such things, but rather on certainty; knowing that you would remain by Arturia's side based off of our first conversation."
"I will have to agree with you," Shirou said. "I am not a firm believer in fate, but rather in the consequence of one's actions." If Arturia's fate was to die in the battle of Camlann, then he would reject that fate with all of his being.
"Then should you not sort out your own problems first before they catch up to you?" Merlin asked calmly. "I am part Incubus, a breed of phantasmal beast, and the blood inside me, to a small degree, appears to be reacting just by being near you," he continued. "If not for that stone you carry in your pouch, I'm afraid that others may begin to take an interest in you if not already."
After finishing his piece, Merlin sent a cold glare out in the distance, eliciting a howl to emerge from several hundred miles out.
"I'll find a way to deal with it somehow, and if anything, if it gets to that point, I would be nowhere near her," Shirou said with certainty.
Merlin shook his head. "You fail to understand the importance of your own self. What if she is the one who chooses to be near you?"
"That is," Shirou was left at a loss. He had no response to say to that.
Sighing, Merlin grasped a firm hold over his staff before taping it gently against the ground. "I am Merlin, a half Incubus and renowned Wizard across the land. None of you are to step within fifty-miles of the human town of Roan. This Incubus here, lays temporary claim to this area. You all should understand what that means for any trespassers."
Merlin was speaking in the tongue of phantasmal beasts, and using his staff to transmit his words across a far radius. What was strange though was that Shirou could understand the language Merlin had just spoken.
"I have given you a temporary respite without alerting any other phantasmal beast's interest," Merlin spoke to Shirou after a moment. "So long as you stay within Roan, you should be safe for the time being."
"You have my thanks." Shirou bowed his head.
"You shouldn't thank me, but rather as I have taken the liberty of guiding you, the teacher must carry a part of the student's load to a degree. Besides, I have taken a guess to what the future may bring, and you will play one of the main roles in it," Merlin spoke.
Shirou raised his head and stared questioning at Merlin. From what he knew, Merlin from a young age had been accurate in what he called his guesses to the point of them becoming prophecies. He had even foretold of the conflict between the Red Dragon and the White Dragon, representations of the ruler of Britain and the invading Saxons.
As Shioru knew without a doubt that he had already changed events in Arturia's timeline, the guesses that Merlin perceived may very well be a treasure trove to him. Thus, he was trying to see if he could get Merlin to elaborate further. Knowing what was to come was the same as already winning half of the battle.
"I can tell that you wish for me to explain further, but as time would have it, it is better for me to first understand your capabilities. Now I know you magus bunch take considerable effort to conceal your craft in fear of others stealing it from you, but I'm different as the greatest Wizard across the land. I either have no need for them, or I already know them. That, and I don't hide away from the world like those second-rates," Merlin spoke before gesturing for him to reveal his magic.
A twitch formed over his brow before he composed himself. It was just that he didn't expect Merlin to be so boastful as the majority of the memories he shared with Saber simply portrayed him as a womanizer which definitely wasn't wrong in any regard. However, he was feeling a tad upset about how Merlin had side-lined his interest in elaborating Merlin's guesses. To be fair, it was probably because of the earlier incident in the tavern, but could the man truly be that petty? Perhaps he could bring Merlin down from his high horse if he showed him something shocking enough?
He knew for a fact that Merlin would not disclose the events of his guesses anytime soon, but he also knew that if thee Merlin was teaching him, then he shouldn't waste the opportunity either.
"Trace, on," the set incantation that he had always used to focus himself came out again at the moment where he stretched out his arms and opened his palms.
Merlin stared with a bit of thinly concealed interest before placing a hand beneath his chin. "Gradation Air," he spoke dismissively.
Gradation Air, which would later be known as Projection is a magic that materializes objects in accordance to the caster's imagination. This object created is maintained by the caster's magical energy, but will still slowly fade away over time as it is recognized as a phantasm that doesn't belong in the natural world. Furthermore, since the material created is based off the imagination of its caster, the durability of the object is compromised. This is due to the fact that most magi do not have a firm understanding or blueprint to what it is that they creating from nothing. In short, the better imagined an object created is, the longer it would last within the world.
Observation done, Merlin simply waited for the projected object in Shirou's hand to fade after its completion. After all, he had already seen another mage utilize the same craft before, and just like Shirou, he had been in the process of projecting a sword.
Still, what Merlin didn't know was the difference between Shirou and the other magus. The other magus did not have a firm understanding of the mechanics of forging a sword, its hilt and pommel coming out deformed. Even more than that, the difference in their mage craft was leagues apart, for Shirou practiced his own variant of Gradation Air he called Tracing.
The eyes that had once looked dismissively at the sword forming in Shirou's hand suddenly widened. "N-Noble phantasm!?" Merlin's hand fell down back by his side, his face one of disbelief.
This was how ground breaking it was for a Noble Phantasm to appear. In all the magus families Merlin had ever visited, perhaps only the Fraga were able to confidently produce one. Even if he considered himself the greatest Wizard across the lands, he had to admit that one mistake could cost him dearly in the face of a Noble Phantasm based on its rank: Some able to decimate entire worlds, others armies, and even a few that can kill with a hundred percent certainty.
Within moments, the sword in Shirou's hand solidified, revealing its true splendor. It was a long and pristine blade with a small inscription of 'Victory' etched on a small plank just above the hilt and set firmly on the shaft of the blade. A red ornament jewel was set in the middle of the gold-coloured hilt, with the pommel decorated in a lavish blue.
Upon completion, the sword thrummed with magical energy, releasing a mana projectile after a mere swing of Shirou's hand.
Merlin may not have had been alive when that sword had once been taken and lost on the battlefield, but he knew of its owner from the texts he had studied. The Warrior Leader of the Iceni, Queen Boudica who lead a rebellion with the other Kings of the land against Roman occupation within Britain.
"The Sword Without Promised Victory," Shirou spoke solemnly, unleashing a barrage of mana projectiles that decimated the nearby surroundings.
It was a sword that carried the principle of 'Victory,' yet it was not the same as a holy sword of the planet, rather it was merely an imperfect sword of wishes. Its owner had still met with overwhelming defeat at the hands of Roman occupation.
Its legend though, still lives on.
Merlin quietly pondered to himself, staring at the Noble Phantasm in Shirou's hand. Shirou had used Gradation Air to form the Noble Phantasm out of nothing, and yet it did not appear as if there were any deformities in the blade's make. In fact, although he could determine that the blade was slightly inferior to the original, everything about it was perfect without a doubt. If Shirou could create true Noble Phantasms just through Gradation Air, how many Noble Phantasms could he truly make, and to what variety? He was left at a loss thinking up to this point.
"T-That's enough for now," Merlin stuttered in his disbelief. Realizing this, he couldn't help but furrow his brows and cough into his hand to play it off.
Nodding his head, Shirou laid aside the sword in his hand, and stood waiting for Merlin's instruction.
Rather than talking, Merlin first went and inspected the sword Shirou had created, picking it up with one hand and bringing it closer to his face. Just as Merlin had expected, the sword was truly on the caliber of a Noble Phantasm. He turned an eye towards Shirou and reassessed his initial evaluation of the boy. This kind of magic was truly too shocking. Could this magic really be considered a mere 'craft,' able to be reproduced by other magi and mortals? It would be too much of a joke to say otherwise. No other magus he had ever known could seamlessly recreate Noble Phantasms as easily as Shirou had if not at all. In fact, his mind drew a blank when he tried matching it to the First Magic. Shaking his head, he then gave his evaluation.
"This must be some superior variant of Gradation Air," Merlin said with a hint of uncertainty only he knew it contained. "From the looks of you, you don't appear quite tired yet?"
Shirou nodded. "If we used the sword I just created as a basis, I should be good to create a few dozen more if I use my energy sparingly," he admitted.
Merlin swallowed, his mouth going a tad dry, but at least he had confirmed something. The Noble Phantasm Shirou had traced was not the only one in his possession. He realized then that it could be a great boon to pull such a young and impressionable magus over to his and Arturia's side. If anything, he could count it as a good deed towards the kingdom of Britain for his efforts.
Carefully observing Shirou, Merlin then stretched out a hand and pressed a finger on the Ashton magic crest inscribed on the black leathers Shirou wore. A dim light shone from it before entering Shirou's body. "How many can you make now?" Merlin asked.
Shirou's eyes widened feeling the influx of magical energy. If before he could just slightly tap into the power of the magic crest within the Ashton armour, now he could freely access it. He took a moment to ponder Merlin's question, and realized that he had become floored with the answer.
Merlin only smiled. "For the longest time after I first saw that crest, I knew it was familiar, and now it seems that I was correct. Still though, it is not yet time for you to know of its significance until you can mature first," he stated.
Shirou could only nod for the moment to such words. Even if he was curious about what Merlin knew, it was best not to force an answer as one could never be sure of the authenticity.
Merlin inspected the sword Shirou had traced for a moment longer before wordlessly handing it back.
"This projection could even last longer than a day, maybe even a week, and the boy had said he could make plenty more of these if he used his magic sparingly? Then how long would one last if he was heedless of magical consumption?" Merlin murmured quietly to himself so only he could hear it.
In the modern times that Shirou was accustomed to, his projections, though unimaginably perfected, would still only last a couple hour, a day at most. This was due to the influence of the earth undoing the objects that were not natural to the world. Yet one would have to know, in the present time Shirou found himself in, that influence was substantially less. Add in the fact that the better made a projection was, the longer it would remain.
"Is there any other magic that you know of?" Merlin asked Shirou curiously.
"Alteration," Shirou spoke, presenting the sword in front of him and twisting it to become more arrow-like. "And I know an odd rune or two," he finished.
"Nothing else?" Merlin asked. "Even the few basics? Elemental magic?"
Shirou shook his head to all of Merlin's inquires, causing him to frown as a magus should have the capability to manipulate at least one of the elements. This was due to an elemental affinity.
"If anything, I'm a third-rate magus, and a second-rate at best. I'm more towards practical applications of mage craft anyway," Shirou explained.
Merlin grunted. A third-rate with the ability to create Noble Phantasms? Such a notion was just unbelievable, but perhaps there was a reason for such things.
Merlin had never had children, nor was he ever going to be passing down his own magic to an heir of any sort, or at least he didn't plan to as of yet. Still though, he knew the procedures of how a magus family would raise an heir. At the very least, the basic principles of magic would be taught from a young age, yet Shirou, despite being a magus himself, did not know of them.
Thinking more on the matter, it was then that he remembered something fundamentally important for a magus and even one teaching a magus.
"Tell me child, what is your origin magic?" Merlin asked curiously.
The origin of a mage is not only the point that defines their existence, but it would also determine one's actions through life. It was not consciously done, but leaning more towards a natural instinct that one could not possibly avoid. Thus, if a mage knew their origin, they would not have to waste their time on other mage craft and instead specialize on a specific. Shirou didn't even take a moment to consider his answer after Merlin asked his question.
He already knew it.
"Sword," was all he said, causing Merlin's features to blank.
In terms of Origin, there were some magi with an exceptional outwardly expressed Origin. Such a thing would allow a magus to potentially reach higher grounds than normal magi.
After all, it was what one would call,
A specialist.
Omake: A Princess in hiding.
Palamid was currently alone walking in the direction of the tavern on his way back from the matter Charles and Gerrard had dragged him into, a grimace over his face. He had gone only for the sole purpose that Gerrard had mentioned that he may know something that could help heal the Son of Wolfred to make him feel better. Little did he and everyone else in the group know that Gerrard would lead them into a brothel.
He had been fortunate enough to realize what was happening just in time as he had heard stories of such places from his Knight brothers back in the old training quarters. In which case, he had left immediately before Gerrard could wrap an arm around him. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the rest. Even Bors was not an exception, but he was sure that he and the rest would survive to make their way back.
As a knight, Palamid would not involve himself with such business, but rather, he would much prefer devoting himself to a single woman.
Walking into the tavern, he realized that the smell of the brothel was clinging to him, making him feel a sense of revulsion towards his current attire. Even his current helmet had a peculiar scent stuck to his visor.
His face scrunched up.
He would definitely be washing his current clothes thoroughly at a later time, but for now, he decided to change out of them.
Moving towards the rented room, he opened the door and was not surprised to see himself be the only one in the room. The rest of the group had been dragged away by Gerrard and Charles, and Shirou was out while Arthur had told him he was going out to train. As for Sir Ector, he had not seen him since he departed from the group to search for an acquaintance.
Little did Palamid know that he had arrived moments after Sir Ector and his acquaintance had a discussion with Shirou and Arturia in the room. Sir Ector had then taken Shirou and Arturia for a discussion, leaving behind only one person who left to order a drink from the waitresses at the first floor.
Still, Palamid didn't mind currently being alone, it was how he preferred it. He was tired of being reprimanded by his Knight brothers about improper behavior when changing; most telling him to watch out in case the less savory folk were to catch a glimpse of him. Still though, why should he care if another man were to see him changing? It wasn't as if he was stripping off all of his clothes, only the one's that needed to be changed.
As he removed his helmet to take off his tunic and change into something more comfortable, a man with white hair, and a similar white cloak unexpectedly stepped into the room. From the moment their gazes locked, Palamid knew that he had met the face of all trouble in his coming future.
For once in his life, he could finally understand the wisdom in his Knight brother's words.
Trying to put his helmet back on, Palamid was unable to as the man was suddenly holding his hand.
"Beautiful dove, never have I met a flower as delicate and elegant as you," the man spoke, his eyes shining as a rose slipped into one of his hands. "Will you do me the honours, and allow this noble man to tour you around the lively town of Roan?"
"Release me now, or I will behead you!" Palamid couldn't help but scream, realizing that the man's face was drawing closer and closer to his own. Hell, he could even tell that the man was taking the opportunity to catch his scent which admittedly still smelled like the brothels: rich lavenders and lilacs.
After smelling such a scent, the look in the man's eyes could not be any more frightening to Palamid who immediately attempted to retreat, but was unable to as the man had somehow wrapped an arm around his waist. "Y-You!"
"Now now, is that any way for a lady to act?" The man laughed good naturedly.
"Buzz off, I'm a man!" Palamid said before delivering a head-but and forcing the man back.
"Y-You are not a woman?" the man asked dazed, ignoring the small bruise forming on his head.
"Of course not," Palamid replied, breathing heavily from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
A troubled look appeared over the man's face, his eyes appearing to glow with a mysterious light that made Palamid feel as if he was naked. Moments later, the man's face seemed to be conveying his denial as he muttered quietly to himself.
"T-This just won't do. Are you sure you're not a woman?" The man asked, growing serious.
"Yes, I am not a woman," Palamid spoke coldly, crossing his arms.
The man did something strange at that moment, completely eluding Palamid's senses, and leaving him dazed and unable to do anything as the man did something to him. When he finally came to, the man was standing in front of him with a small smile on his face as if he had just done the world its largest favour.
Opening his mouth, the man asked.
"What about now?"