Keeper of Gil's Vault wrote:The FanFic forum looks barren, guess I will do my part.
The night was still young.
A crescent moon just barely peeked over the roofs of the Emiya residence, shedding its dim cold light into the empty courtyard. A gust of wintry wind broke the silence now and then, but the false serenity somehow remained intact. Perching over the warehouse, a slender figure broke the crisp silhouette of the roofs. As if attempting to blend into her surroundings, she remained motionless. Like a figurehead riding proudly atop a warship, she sat at the tip of the warehouse. The wind caressed her long hair, which gave off a purple shimmer that would shame even the finest Phoenician silk.
Although a sophisticated barrier domed over the Emiya residence, Rider insisted on watching over the parameter. After all, Heaven's Feel was far from over, battles would only become more ruthless as the near completed Grail beaconing the exausted contestants.
Savouring this rare moment of peace, Rider gazed at the moon.
Despite being summoned to an era some 3,000 years later, Rider felt strangely comforting gazing upon the familiar moon.
Faint metallic lustre caught her peripheral vision. Three projectiles, Rider quickly counted the incoming missiles and visualized their target locations, aiming for the carotid, brachial and femoral arteries. In a blur of motion, she dodged the weapons by a hair's margin.
Wait! I was wrong!
A fourth projectile, aiming for her undefended chest, was rapidly approaching.
There is no time!
Rider swung the nail in her right hand at the incoming missile as fast as she could, knowing such a parry was futile against a noble phantasm.
CHING! A resonating sound of metal scrapping against metal.
I blocked it.
The deflected weapon hit the ground with a thud - a finely crafted albeit plain-looking dagger.
Such comprehensive knowledge of the weaknesses of the human body, such proficiency with the dagger... He is here.
Tracing the trajectory of the dagger, Rider focused her attention on the cherry tree outside of the wall. A black shape was crouching on a rather thin branch. The withered branch quivered up and down, as if matching the pace of his breaths. The sight sent chills up Rider's spine. It somehow reminded her of a vulture perching beside a dying animal, waiting, waiting for its heart to beat for the last time. A gust of wind lifted his tattered cloak, exposing his distorted husk. His skin was pitch black, yet it glistened like polished ebony under the moonlight. The sinewy arm exposed seemed to pulsate, ready to launch an attack in the blink of an eye. And yes, the mask, the ivory mask. Forever laughing, taunting, and tormenting.
Suddenly, a thought struck Rider. Instead of attacking me from the dark, he allowed himself to be seen. A Hashshashin never leaves empty-handed after revealing himself.
"I see... so Zouken finally decides that I am too much of a nuisance to his plan?"
The reply was a hail of steel shards.
PART 1 END
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