5 The Spirit

[Medea's POV]

The bubbles filled with memories wandered in Medea's mind. Each bubble reflected glimpses of her past. Learning the magecraft as the disciple of Goddess Hecate, roaming the streets of a lively kingdom her father ruled, or spending time to learn etiquette from her mother—she was living a dream life, content within the peaceful bounds of her kingdom.

Until that day, when a ship arrived. Jason, the most famous Argonaut, arrived at Colchis to snatch the Golden Fleece in her father's possession. Jason had no way to overcome this trial by himself, so Goddess Aphrodite controlled Medea's mind into loving Jason.

The blind love for Jason was merely the start of her nightmare. The charm compelled her to commit atrocious acts to help Jason without feeling any shred of remorse.

The bubble exploded and the next bubble stopped before her. It showed a man's corpse. A familiar man who was once known as Apsyrtus, her brother. She turned her eyes away from the sight of her brother chopped in pieces while whispering an apology.

The memories kept showering her in regrets until her eyes snapped open. An unfamiliar ceiling entered her eyes.

'Where am I?'

She pushed down the fluffy futon and sat up. The well-lit room filled with odd books gave her a twisted illusion as if she was in the haunted graves she occupied after escaping from Colchis. She couldn't put a finger on it, but this place reeked of tragedy. Somehow weak magical energy flowed in the air, enough to sustain her in the physical world.

'How odd. Is this a magus workshop?'

Magus did all sorts of demonic rituals. This might be the result of one such atrocity.

"Oh, you're awake."

She turned her head to the voice. A young man smiled at her, his messy raven hair sticking to his calm, handsome face. The person she saved in the forest. Medea scrutinized the hollow look in his deep red eyes, something she never expected from a boy this young.

"You are?"

"Haruki," the boy said. "Haruki Hayashi."

"I passed out in the forest?"

"Yes."

"This place is your workshop?"

"No," he paused, hesitation apparent on his face. He shook his head firmly, awakening an odd glimmer in his eyes. "I want to become your Master in this war."

Medea's eyes flew wide open, not expecting the young man's offer. She wanted the same. Still, she couldn't help but wonder, was he one of those idiotic Magus intent on winning the grail for the riches? She cast her gaze on the room. Surely, the wooden ceiling seemed a little cheap in her eyes.

'I cannot die yet. I... must use him as a puppet to win. Colchis, I want to return to my roots and kill him before Aphrodite curses me. I must do that.'

As much as she hated to manipulate an innocent, she had no other choice. This might be her last opportunity to cleanse her regrets with the Holy Grail. She wasn't a hero, so she had no chance of being chosen by the Throne of Heroes. This war was too abnormal to summon a Spirit with an 'Evil' alignment like her.

A sudden chill froze her. Her eyes darted toward the door, only to find nothing.

'...What was that?'

She drew a deep sigh. "I agree. Shall we form the pact?"

"What do I have to do?"

Medea held out her hand. Haruki tilted his head in wonder and clasped her hand.

Medea closed her eyes, muttering her request to the Grail itself. A moment later, a crimson glow enveloped Haruki's hand. Medea released his hand and observed the leftover mark of the command spell. She already forced her previous master to consume all three command spells, so her new Master had nothing.

'My chances of winning with Commands Spells were abysmal. Do I stand a chance without them?'

A command spell was the crystallization of great magical energy that allowed Servants to use their trump card; it also acted as a Master's leash on a servant.

'I will have to rely on his magical energy.'

Medea tried to sense her connection, curious how much magical energy this young master possesses.

Thump!

Her heart throbbed in her ears. Widening her eyes, she stared at Haruki.

'So much—'

Her thoughts halted, and her head snapped toward the door. An ethereal figure floated behind Haruki. Just looking at the golden embers in its eyes froze Medea.

'What is this Spirit?'

Any Spirit she ever encountered paled before this. She couldn't fathom how many grudges or regrets they had to become this strong. Instead of attacking, it just hovered there as if watching over the young man.

Medea calmed down and assessed the situation. This faint smell of blood, her master's gloomy aura, and the Spirit's attachment to him—she quickly came to a conclusion.

'So that's how it is, Master. What kind of man are you to gain this fierce protection from an Evil Spirit?'