₊ 𖦹﹕𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗦𝗬𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗦！(🩸)

⩩ ┊❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ❞

第三章 . . . 000
@/mxtsuro | AO3 & Wattpad
Myrddin Emrys © 2025

﹒  ◠  METEMPSYCHOSIS    ⊹    ﹒
— “ reincarnation ” !
Those candle flames were like the lives of men. So fragile. So deadly. Left alone, they lit and warmed. Let run rampant, they would destroy the very things they were meant to illuminate. Embryonic bonfires, each bearing a seed of destruction so potent it could tumble cities and dash kings to their knees.
★ . Brandon Sanderson » +

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ⠀ᰋ
── ★ ˙ a rain-soaked field of poppies, each petal a drop of blood, blurred the line between memory and battlefield  ̟ !!

Fuyuki City
6th of September 2004, 8:00 AM

            The morning sun was just beginning to filter through the tall windows of Rin’s manor, casting long golden beams across the training grounds where Shirou and Saber sparred. The air was crisp, cool, and filled with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, typical of early autumn in Fuyuki City. The sounds of metal clashing against metal echoed throughout the quiet morning as the King of Knights, her blue and silver armor reflecting the sunlight, danced across the ground with perfect precision, her blade slicing through the air effortlessly.

            Shirou, sweat dripping down his brow, struggled to keep up with her. He could feel the strain in his muscles as he tried to match Saber’s relentless speed and technique. Every swing of her sword sent a shockwave through his body, but he pressed on, refusing to falter. His mind, however, was elsewhere.

            The memory of the previous night haunted him. After their intense battle at Ryuudou Temple, he and Saber had been ambushed by Archer while walking back to the manor. The Servant, cold and detached, had shown no hesitation in attacking them, his twin blades aimed with deadly intent. The assault had been sudden and brutal, with the bow-wielding man strikes filled with lethal precision, his eyes filled with disdain as if Shirou was nothing but a nuisance in his path.

          “Why?” Shirou had whispered to himself, dodging yet another of Archer’s swift strikes. “Why would he do this?”

           Saber had defended him fiercely, blocking Archer’s blows with her sword, but even she was struggling against the sheer force of his attacks. They were outmatched. Shirou knew it---Rin's pragmatic Servant was stronger, faster, and far more experienced. Just when it seemed like their defeat was inevitable, a sudden figure reappeared: Assassin.

           The mysterious swordsman, wearing traditional samurai attire, stepped into the fray without hesitation. His katana met Archer’s twin blades with a resounding clash, sparks flying from the impact. Assassin’s purple eyes, sharp and focused, remained locked on the berserking Heroic Spirit, giving the brunette mage enough time to use her Command Spell. The air around them had shimmered with the power of the spell, Rin’s voice ringing out with authority as she ordered her own Servant to stand down.

           The memory still lingered in Shirou’s mind as he swung his sword in a wide arc, trying to push the thoughts away. But no matter how hard he tried, Archer’s cold gaze haunted him, a reminder that even their supposed allies could turn against them in this war.

           “Your stance is still too wide, Shirou,” Saber’s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and authoritative. She parried his attack effortlessly, her eyes narrowing as she assessed his form. “You are leaving yourself exposed. Focus.”