Micheal yawned and tried to keep his eyes open. He had been up late studying and didn't get to sleep until the sun was rising. At least his first morning class was after 10am so he got some sleep but it still wasn't more than about four hours at best. He felt his eyelids droop and his head sagging. When the professor started lecturing he would get this drone in his voice that was perfect for inducing sleep.
Micheals head fell off his hand and smacked into the desk immediately waking him up while the noise made everyone look over at him. He sheepishly pulled his textbook up in front of his face while feeling like he wanted to crawl under a rock.
An hour and half an hour as well as a lecture and three remedial assignments on top Micheal was finally leaving the classroom. Waiting for him outside the classroom book in hand was his Shear Arneheart wearing some glasses that he took off and pocketed upon catching Micheal. Micheal looked over at his uncle, saw the glint in his eye, and sighed adjusting his bag on his shoulder.
It had been almost half a year since Micheal had entered the clock tower and after his rather shocking entrance into the student body at large he had done his damndest to keep his head down. Not that that hadn't stopped people from trying to pick fights with him. Luckily his family was a few generations old so he wasn't the outright bottom of the barrel but he also wasn't anywhere near the top. He had garnered a reputation in the sparring classes for unorthodox movements and lightning fast reflexes often times outspeeding quick cast spells.
Well it helped that he could see the spells ahead of time but even that wasn't enough to keep him from getting his ass beat. He was fine in 1v1 fights but he had trouble with fights where he had to keep an eye on more than one person. He had found that out the hard way when a three other students challenged him to a fight and he had found out one of the limitations of his mystic eyes the hard way. The effect was limited to his field of vision and since he didn't have eyes in the back of his head people had quickly figured out that the best way to beat him was to have someone fight him head on while the other person snuck up behind him and hit him with a spell or a sword or whatever.
Micheal shook his head and in the process felt one of the muscles in his neck protest at the movement. In one of the recent sparring classes he been suplexed backwards and halfway through twisted to escape but landed on his shoulder just wrong enough to send pain shooting up his neck everytime he looked to the left.
He tried to walk past Arneheart because he really did not have the time or patience to talk to anyone. He wanted to get back to his room and pass out on his bed but Arnehearte put a hand on Micheals injured shoulder causing him to flinch and turn around to glare at his uncle who just raised a single hand in apology. After clearing his throat he motioned for Micheal to follow him and when Micheal didn't immediately do so he turned back around, walked quickly over to him throwing an arm around his shoulder as he leaned in conspiratorially
"I've got a lead on a relic you might be interested in."
Micheals fatigue and lethargy vanished as he felt a shock of energy course through him. He glanced over at Arneheart who raised an eyebrow to which Micheal gestured for him to lead. A few minutes later they were in his office with Micheal drinking some tea meant to help with aches and pains while his uncle added some honey to his black tea. They both took a sip of their tea, sighed appreicaitvely, and then Arnehearte set his cup down looking at Micheal appraisingly
"Seems you've taken to the British mannerisms quite well."
Micheal rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea as he felt it working on his shoulder in a way that meant magic was happening. He rolled his shoulder experimentally and looked at his uncle who just winked at him.
"Put a healing spell on your leaves. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Means I can get back at those bastards more quickly. Thats not why we're here though. Whats this relic?"
Arnehearte stood up and went over to his desk to pick up a newspaper. He opened it, turned a few pages, and then refolded the paper so that only a section was being shown. He walked over to Micheal and handed it to him to read before sitting down clasping his hands in his lap and closing his eyes as he meditated
Micheal eyed his uncle for a few second before turning his attention to the paper. It was a regional newspaper from Orleans France and the article in question,
"'Fragment of the stake Jeanne D'Arc was burned on found in field by young boy'. You plan on letting me summon Jeanne D'Arc?"
Micheal stared at his uncle who cracked an eye open and grinned mischievously
"You said you wanted a top class servant or damn near close enough."
"What…class would she even be? She's a saint."
"And theres the question. Truth be told I don't know but there are good odds on her being a rider, saber, or lancer for a few reasons. Rider because she was known to have led armies on horseback, saber because of her sword, and lancer on a gut feeling."
"A…'Gut feeling'." Micheal stared at his uncle nonplussed whose own grin just widened in response, "This is all based on the assumption that she'll answer the summons. That was a big thing in the books I found. Some Servants just won't answer the summons."
Arneheart nodded and folded his arms staring at his tea on the table, "That's the issue. Per every source I could find she went to her death not wanting anything. The reason you can summon a servant in the first place is because the person they used to be died with regrets or an unfulfilled wish. They answer the call of the summons and the grail to make those regrets go away or fulfil their wish."
Micheal knew all this so he just nodded quietly. Privately he was hoping for either an Assassin or Archer servant due to their lower mana requirements from the master but he wasn't about to turn away from a chance to summon one of Frances greatest heroes. He held up the paper again and read more closely finally finding the information he was looking for,
"So its…not at the Museum in paris?"
"Nope. They are going to display it first in Orleans in a big showy event."
"..How did they even figure out it was-"
"Because of the wood itself Per the 'official' report its based on the way the stakes were made back in the 15th century. The actual reason is because the thing is practically oozing mana. To the point where the boy who found it claimed to have seen the woman herself. Naturally the plan is to lock it up so it can't be used but I can think of a better option."
"Which is to have me summon the saint herself."
Micheal reread the article again trying to find out where the relic being held for now. He frowned not finding anything and looked over at his uncle who glanced at his watch and sighed.
"Are you done with classes for today?"
"Yeah I was planning on sleeping in and icing my shoulder tomorrow while taking it easy. Why?"
"Because winter break is coming up in a few weeks. I'll track down the shard and drop by to 'visit' over winter break so we can get it from wherever its being held. Just to make sure on this before I do anything: You are sure you're going to be chosen as a master."
Arnehearte looked pointedly at Micheals hand at which Micheal just sighed and set his empty cup on its saucer. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being healed for a few seconds, and then opened his eyes again to look at his uncle.
"Call it a 'gut feeling'."
Arneheartes eyes widened a bit as Micheal used the codephrase they had all agreed they would use when it came to his origin. For his own part he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at Micheal with that glint in his eye again.
"Looks like I need to find us our relic then." Arnehearte glanced at the clock and stood up at which Micheal did the same. They had been talking for the better part of an hour and Micheal needed to get packed to go back home that upcoming Monday. Saying his goodbyes to his uncle Micheal wandered back to the room he had gotten assigned. As he did so he felt another shot of pain but this time in the back of his head. He shook his head a bit trying to dispel the feeling but sighed as it stayed. Idly wondering if he had any painkillers in his medicine cabinet he walked to the elevator as the pain sharpened suddenly making him stumble and catch himself on the wall. He narrowed his eyes briefly wondering if his uncle had done more than slip a healing spell into his tea before immediately dismissing the notion. If Arnehearte had wanted him dead he would have had any number of chances given how involved he was in Micheals life growing up. He was the one who recommended grafting the Lafaire crest in parts after all.
Micheal stood upright, holding a hand to his forehead as he entered the elevator and punched the button for the 8th floor. The elevator cranked to life as the doors closed and Micheal was whisked up 8 floors. Arriving on his floor he stepped out of the elevator only for another spike of pain to shoot through his skull causing his vision to momentarily blur. Leaning on the wall Micheal slowly walked to his dorm room, fished his key out of his pocket, and opened the door taking two steps into his room before a fourth bolt shot from the back of his head over his scalp and impacted the area right between his eyes knocking Micheal to the floor. His vision was rapidly blurring and he managed to crawl his way to the food of his bed before a fifth and final strike of pain fell onto him knocking him fully to the floor and into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Micheal opened his eyes and immediately closed them coughing as he found something was preventing him from breathing properly. He tried to move his arms but found that they were wrapped around a pole and tied behind him. He coughed again squinting as his eyes burned from what he now realized was smoke. He looked around to see if he could see anything but all he saw was facings yelling and jeering at him. Off to his left he heard someone yelling about heresy and witchcraft as suddenly the platform under him cracked and let fire slip through it scorching the undersides of his feet. He struggled against his bindings and then he screamed a scream that wasn't his own as the flames roared higher.
Micheal blinked and immediately was able to breath again. He fell to his knees and stared at his hands expecting them to be charred bone only to find them their normal color. He sat back and took a deep breath closing his eyes and thinking to himself. A minute or two later he had calmed down as much as he could have and opened his eyes to look wear he was. What struck him immediately was the opulence of the room he was in. The walls were gold, the ceiling had massive crystal chadeliers, and he thought he saw the ruined remains of a golden throne a bit further back in the room. He stood up only to feel his origin 'ping' him which made Micheal look around the room more closely. He walked over to one of the walls and began to wonder how they had lined it with so much gold when the roof overhead exploded inwards.
Micheal immediately flooded his legs with mana and dodged backwards several meters as the rubble came crashing down along with three people. A man with light brown hair in a white coat, a girl with pink hair wielding a shield and no sword, and something he couldn't quite make out that impacted the floor hard enough to crater it. The girl with the pink hair somehow accelerated faster and impacted whatever had cratered the floor causing a yell to echo through the room as the crater both deepened and widened. The girl lept out of it and glanced at the man with the brown hair as he glared daggers at whatever was in the crater. Micheal began to walk over being sure to be as quiet as possible as he say the man start yelling almost to the point of frothing at the mouth. The girl tried to put an arm on him but he shoved her away causing her to stumble and fall using her shield to brace herself.
Eventually the man got fed up with yelling and turned around, roughly grabbed the girl with the pink hair by the upper arm practically dragging her out of the throne room. Micheal made to follow them curious as to who they were and was just past the crater when he heard a groan from the crater. He turned around and walked forwards to the edge of the crater only to see a person broken and bleeding at the bottom of it. He felt his origin ping again as his eyes landed on the person. Curious he stepped into and slid down the walls of the crater as the person tried to level themselves onto an arm only to cough blood. Micheal flooded his legs with mana and fell to his knees not caring about injuring himself as the persons arm gave out and they fell sideways….
Right into Micheals arms.
The person immediately shot up and looked around fearfully which is when Micheal got his first good look at….her. He felt his mouth run dry and he tried to swallow as he watched this woman start to speak only he couldn't hear a word she said. She had shoulder length white hair and eyes the color of gold. Her armor was blackened steel and consisted of a fitted steel corset, gauntlets that extended up her arms, and armored shoes alongside socks that went up to her midthigh. Even covered in blood, bruised, and battered she was beautiful. He tentatively reached out to her as she swung her other arm out in front of her causing their forearms to collide. She started yelling and tried to get stand up only for her legs to not move. She began to pound her legs with a gauntlet causing them to bruise as she continued yelling while tears began to fall fown her face.
Micheal slowly moved closer to her and gently touched her shoulder at which point she conjured a sword and swung it at him. He was too close to dodge so he put up his arm reinforcing it to try and block the strike only for it to pass through him completely. He blinked and the woman was clearly surprised as well as the sword flew from her grip and embedded itself into the wall of the crater. Her eyes went wide and she tentatively reached out a hand. Micheal extended his own hand and met hers touching his finger tips to hers. She blinked and started laughing mirthlessly as she looked up at the hole in the roof and her mouth moved again as she said something.
Micheal watched as she tried to stand up again only for her legs to continue to not move. She sighed and let herself fall backwards only for Micheal to move quickly so that her head would land on his thighs. When she felt her head impact something soft her eyes widened again in a mix of fear and then closed them in what looked to Michael like acceptance. Suddenly thunder roared overhead as rain began to fall through the hole in the ceiling as Micheal found he could hear again. He looked down at the woman, enthralled by her beauty, and then noticed that her legs were dissolving into golden shimmering particles. He felt his origin ping again and on instinct rested his arms on the womans shoulder flooding her with mana. Her eyes shot open and her gaze locked onto Micheal. He focused on slowing down whatever was happening to her and it seemed to be working as the particles slowed but didn't stop. He swore and was about to push more mana into her when he felt a hand on his cheek. He looked down into the womans eyes as they held emotions he felt like he couldn't ever understand and watched as tears began to leak from them.
"Of course right as I'm dying someone comes to save me….My luck is rotten as always."
"Stop talking. I need to focus on pouring mana into you."
The woman shook her head and smiled at him, making his heart skip a beat.
"I've sinned too much. I'm going to Hell and there is no one who can save me from that. As a near death hallucination I will say that my mind has conjured a nice looking one."
The woman closed her eyes and began to let her hand fall from Micheals cheek only for him to swear and grab her hand with his left hand causing her eyes to shoot open as she tried to speak only for words to fail her,
"I'm not letting you die. You aren't going to hell. I am saving you and don't you fucking forget it."
Micheal growled out as he shunted more mana into the woman. As he poured more and more mana into the woman through his right hand he felt the back of it begin to burn as though there was a live coal under his skin but he didn't care. He seemed to have endless mana right now and he was giving all of it to this woman. The woman stared at him mouth agape only for her to close it, pull her hand out from his grasp, and hold his face with it and her other hand. She smiled at him tears running down her face as the amount golden particles increased
"This was all a dream for me anyway….I am glad that my last ephemeral dream….was a good one where someone…..finally tried to save me….."
She closed her eyes as her hips dissolved into those damn particles. Micheal put both hands on her shoulders and focused on just pumping as much mana as he could into her.
"I'm not giving up on you. If this is a dream for both of us then I want you to wake up on the other side dammit. I promised to save you and I fucking meant it. NOW STOP DISSOLVING DAMMIT."
Micheal yelled as he felt his magic circuits spark to life and the sensation on his hand sharpen to the point where he felt like someone was carving into his skin. The woman had opened her eyes and was staring awestruck at him as lightning began to arc off his body onto the crater surrounding them scorching the area. Finally she grabbed his hands and pulled them off of her holding both of their hands over her heart. She smiled at him as he hands began to dissolve,
"If this is to be a waking dream….then I'll meet you on the other side. I promise."
Micheal stared down at this woman who just smirked at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.He sighed and stopped resisting wrapping his hands around hers,
"Its a promise then. I'll come and find you. No matter what."
The woman nodded, a final tear falling from her eyes as she finally dissolved fully into yellow particles. Micheal stayed there on his knees staring at where she had vanished until he felt himself start to wake up.