Chapter 3

"Trace on."

Shirou's magic circuits flared. He was within one of Ashton manor's numerous rooms, this one in particular illuminated by the light of a large overhead window. Like all the rooms, thick vegetation and the like grew on the floors and walls. Save for the ceiling, everything was covered in plants; notably flowers of various sorts that must have blown in early spring, and blossomed mid-summer. Why was he in this room? Well the answer was easy, it was his new workshop.

For all intents and purposes, Shirou had underestimated just how large Ashton manor was. On first glance, one could only see the thick plant growth over the brick walls, but on closer inspection, one could see just how much the vegetation hid the majority of the manor from view. Which is why his new work shop was located at the far end of the manor. Not only would one miss it with a glancing view, they would also miss the small bounded field surrounding it.

Shirou was a third-rate magus who couldn't hope to achieve a level of any higher, but that didn't mean he couldn't learn anything. Albeit, the magic he was able to learn was the lowest of the low for most magi; runes in particular, something that most prominent magi scoff at. They were simply a pattern of straight lines that when inscribed automatically realize mysteries accordingly with the meaning that they represent. In short, low maintenance. In this case, a combination of them created the bounded field around his new workshop.

A simple blade appeared in Shirou's hands. It was of steel make, however the hilt and pommel were made of lesser yet durable metal. He propped it against the table and watched for any outward signs of degradation present from the moment he projected an object of any kind. Surprisingly, this was not the case. Narrowing his eyes, he once again looked over the blade, his eyes, his structural analysis, capturing everything. Structural analysis wasn't exactly a mystery only he alone was capable of, just that he took it to a whole other level than most magi can give credit. After all, it was a basis for his higher forms of magecraft. More to the point however, he was unsurprised when his structural analysis once again obtained the same result. The blade was degrading, but the rate of which was astoundingly slow. It was similar to sand in an hourglass, except rather than a constant stream, it was more akin to small droplets.

Shirou furrowed his brows and decided to take things to the next level. How would a Noble Phantasm fair? His circuits flared in protest, but decades of constant use and the ambient magic in the air made the process several magnitudes easier. If Shirou had inspected his circuits further, he would have realized that they were healing. Perhaps due to the anomaly in front of him.

A copy of Avalon resided in his open right palm, the splendor and beauty of the sheath not lost despite it being an imitation of the one within his chest. Yet that was the point entirely, it shouldn't be anywhere near the level of the original which meant...!

After a quick realization, Shirou pulled out the original Avalon from within him. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. The sheath practically glowed with mots of golden light, the power around it, absurd.

Shirou closed his eyes, his thoughts racing. Had he done something? Had something happened to him at the wheat field? A flurry of questions and conclusions randomly entered his mind, yet no answer. Eventually, they all stopped the moment he realized the most important factor, Arturia. She was the original wielder of the sheath, Shirou's close proximity to her could explain everything, but he wouldn't be so fast to jump to conclusions. however, he was certain it was the case as it was in the fifth Grail War. Avalon had saved him numerous times, but through it all, Saber was there.

Shirou smiled ruefully as he placed the original Avalon back within him and focused on his projected Avalon; noting that like the projected blade, it too deteriorated at a lesser pace. Hmm, he mused. Cost efficiency and maintenance on his magecraft was significantly reduced in the era he was in... he could work with that. He traced other Noble Phantasms, but all had the same effect. However, Noble Phantasms of B-Rank and higher were still taxing on his magical reserves. At best he could probably make five? ten? twenty? There was much testing to be done in the era. Still though, he best hurry with his deductions to the changes in his magecraft, he still had someone he had to feed after all...

To say that Arturia liked his cooking was like saying the world ending was a mild occurrence, she utterly adored his cooking. There had once been a time she had personally requested that he make more food. In which case, said food would be delivered to Sir Ector and Kay to prove to them why Arturia no longer spent breakfast with them.

Tragically, the carrier pigeon, Arturia in this case, ended up eating all the food on the journey there. She had explained, not without embarrassment, that she had gotten tired and wanted a small snack, just a tad bit. Unfortunately, Arturia reasoned, a wild deer appeared and snagged the rest of the food. However, it didn't help her case very much when her hands and cheeks still had little smidges of grease, even more so when her eyes looked expectantly up at him for more. He was spoiling her, he knew, but it didn't stop him, not one bit. She never did get around to explaining just how well Sir Ector and Kay liked his food if at all...

Shirou smiled at the memory as Efret took its place by his right shoulder. Even now he didn't know if the phantasmal beast was male or female, 'it' would suffice for now. Speaking of Efret, it acted more as a family pet than it did a phantasmal beast, not harming any people, or animal besides rodents. Then again, Shirou quite liked that. On further note, he had taken to watching Efret to understand why it seemed so attached to him.

"Play?" A voice spoke in Shirou's mind.

Shirou shook his head. "Sorry Efret, I have to go meet with someone." He said as he gently goaded Efret off his shoulder. Glancing at a projected clock, half-an-hour was all he had left to make it back to the borders of Ashton Forest where he regularly encountered Arturia. He had to go now if didn't want to be late.

Swiftly, he dismissed his projections, grabbed his clothing, and was soon out the rather large fornt door. Navigating to the back yard, near the numerous empyt pens, he went towards the only one that held animals, the chickens. He grabbed a couple eggs, and was soon on his way, taking in mind the list of the days objectives.

Meanwhile, Efret tilted its head as it watched Shirou leave the manor. Play? Meet?...

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Arturia fidgeted as she waited for Shirou. She was wearing an over sized brown tunic, that reached past her waist. Luckily, her blue trousers and black leggings were more to her size, however she still looked a tad top-heavy. Be that as it may, the small grey cloak over her shoulders was enough to hide it.

Sighing, Arturia once again glanced around the clearing. Nothing. She contemplated practicing with her sword, but quite frankly, ever since she had found out about Shirou's secret it just felt wrong. What if he arrived in the middle of her training? What would his expression be? Arturia pursed her lips, she would be a bad friend if she did that. Over the past couple weeks, she had already determined for herself not to ask for his help in swordsmanship, something made easier when she spent most of her time hunting with Shirou. Using one of his bows was a novelty experience for her, then again, she would never be as good as Shirou was. Just yesterday she helped catch a deer, the price of the pelt being split evenly between her and Shirou. More to the point however, it was harder and harder not to ask Shirou for help with swordsmanship; she could still picture the image of his form as he spared with Sir Anders.

Square your shoulders more when you're striking.

Just that one tip alone had Arturia improving by leaps and bounds. Granted, she probably would have eventually realized the flaw herself, but the fact that Shirou could so easily point it out gave credit to his skill with a blade. He would make a great teacher, one who could easily point out her flaws and correct them. Yet Arturia frowned. She was having bad thoughts, putting her progress with a sword over Shirou's feelings. If she did ask him, she would be no better than the pigs in Sir Ector's sty's, and she hated those pigs.

A rustle in the woods, a flicker of an eye.

"Sorry I'm late," Shirou said as he entered the small forest clearing. "I had to make sure I had enough of these for you to bring home." He took out a leather pouch and revealed the chicken eggs as he motioned towards the two hares tied around his waist. "This time for sure right? No more rampant deers, meandering Goblins, or Trolls beneath bridges?" He stated, listing off Arturia's previous excuses.

"I'll be careful. The G-Goblins were lucky last time," Arturia said as she blushed and turned her face away.

Shirou smiled knowingly within Arturia's peripherals, her ears beginning to redden.

"T-Then I'll prove it, y-you can come with me today if you want!" Arturia stuttered out as she turned to face Shirou having regained her bearings.

"To your secret home?"

"Y-Yeah," Arturia meakly looked away from Shirou's gaze before turning back haughtily. "But that means you have to take me to your home..."

Shirou laughed, startling Arturia. Her reasoning was just so childish that he couldn't help it. It was the same reasoning as, you took my cookie, so I take yours.

Arturia glared.

"Alright alright, I'll take you after," Shirou said mirthfully. "For now, we still have some time before I make breakfast." Arturia glanced at her sword, and Shirou caught the movement. He smiled, he already knew what she wanted, but she didn't seem as if she would ask. He didn't know why she wouldn't ask, but maybe it was part of her honour. Therefore, it fell upon him to ask instead. "There's no time to go hunting, so do you want to spar?"

Arturia's eyes brightened. She didn't have to feel bad about asking Shirou to train with her. He was the one who asked. "S-Sure!" She said eagerly.

"Alright, bring out your sword and lets practice," Shirou said as he picked up a long slender twig from the ground and reinforced it.

"You're using a twig?" Arturia asked in befuddlement, her cheeks puffing up. Was he making fun of her?

"Yes," Shirou said simply before he grinned. "A strong twig."

Yeah, he was definitely making fun of her. Arturia fumed, but Shirou didn't relent. Well fine then, she wouldn't listen to him and make him take things seriously. And the first thing she had to do was break that twig. By then he'll realize his folly and use a real sword.

"The lesson today is not to underestimate your opponent," Shirou said slowly as he waved the twig in front of Arturia's eyes. She didn't seem as if she was paying any attention to his words. He sighed, guess she'll have to learn the hard way, but perhaps a little warning. "That means Arturia...Don't underestimate the twig." Shirou paused for emphasis. "I hope you understand. I'm ready when you are."

Arturia just shook her head in exasperation. It was a twig.

"Have at thee!" Arturia yelled as she went on the attack, coming in with an overhead slash. Her timing was perfect and strong, well executed even...If it wasn't so blatantly aimed at the twig. Unfortunately, the twig didn't break as expected, but rather caught her sword in a few of its small unbroken branches. Startled with the turn of events, she tried to fall back, but her sword wouldn't budge. Turning her head, her wide eyes met Shirou's exasperated gaze. Her face began to heat up in embarrassment.

Shirou disarmed Arturia with a brush of the twig, watching her face contort in disbelief. He stepped forward, past her shaken guard and raised a fist.

Arturia flinched, her eyes closing as she raised her arms to block. She was shaking, waiting for Shirou's blow to land...

Shirou sighed as he stared at Arturia. She was probably expecting him to hit her, and for all intents and purposes he should, she was being stupid after all. However, watching her trembling made it seem like he was bullying her. Arturia peaked open a lone eye, but quickly closed it when she saw he still had his fist raised. He sighed once again as he shook his head, and promptly knocked aside her arms before flicking her on the forehead. Hard.

"Idiot," Shirou reprimanded as Arturia rubbed peevishly at her forehead. "That could have been your life."

"B-But it was a twig..." Arturia trailed off indignantly. Her head still hurt at the spot Shirou flicked.

"A magic twig," Shirou responded as he put a dent into a tree with the twig.

Arturia's eyes widened. "T-That's cheating!"

"Didn't I tell you it was a strong twig?"

"...Yes."

"Did you listen?"

"...No."

"So how was I cheating?"

"..."

"Point proven," Shirou said as he motioned for Arturia to start again. Reluctantly, she did, keeping a wary eye on the lone twig. She struck and was blocked, the process repeating until she noticed that Shirou's lower guard was lacking.

Shirou smiled internally. He had been blocking all of Arturia's high blows and leaving faint openings by his lower guard. It was his hope that Arturia would notice and capitalize on it, one that she didn't disappoint. In battle, more than anything, it's important to keep a steady eye on the habits of your opponent. A faint twitch of a finger, a tensing of the legs, all could be signs of the opponent's next move. In his case, he slackened his arm whenever he blocked low, losing a majority of his blocking strength. Therefore, a weak lower guard. He was happy that Arturia could remain observant in battle.

Arturia struck low again, and Shirou allowed her to break his guard and position herself for a well earned blow.

"Got you!" Arturia yelled as she struck forward, the clatter of her feet resounding throughout the bright clearing.

CAAW!

Arturia yelped in surprise and stopped her attack as her eyes darted towards the unexpected noise. Efret landed between Arturia and Shirou, its wings extended as its monochromatic eyes locked onto Arturia's. Its silver eye seemed to pierce straight through her as its auburn eye regarded her curiously. It stood at almost half of Arturia's thighs, roughly a-foot-and-a-half tall.

"A-A beast!" Arturia waved her sword in front of her. She had never seen anything like Efret. It appeared to be a hawk with the sleekest of brown feathers, but but...it was glowing. Indeed, it had a pale blue aura covering it from head to talon. Ghost hawk, but it can't be! It moved towards her, regarding her quietly as it puffed its chest out. "S-Stay back, I-I taste bad!" She yelled while stepping back. Three steps, four... "I-I won't eat bird again- only chicken!"

Efret continued walking forward as Arturia's eyes were drawn to Efret's long and sharp talons digging into the ground. She, in no way wanted to fight the thing at the moment; she was still in her training as a Squire! Efret raised its wings; it was going to pounce! Oh nonononnonoo. Arturia's eyes dilated as her face paled, yet she stood fast. I-If she had to die, then it wouldn't be without a fight. She gulped in trepidation.

"Efret?" Shirou said confused. He didn't recall telling Efret to stay in the mansion, but this was the first time Efret had ever gone out looking for him.

Efret stopped upon hearing Shirou's voice, causing Arturia to fall on her bottom and sigh in relief. Walking to Shirou, Efret tilted its head and stared at him. "Play? Meet?"

Shirou rubbed at his forehead. It was his fault. He supposed he wasn't specific enough, or just didn't take the time to make sure Efret understood him before he left the house.

"Sorry Efret, but I guess it's time I began making food. Why don't you play with my friend for now," Shirou said sheepishly. He knew that Efret wouldn't hurt Arturia, at least if Efret knew she was his friend. Shirou turned to a shocked Arturia. "It seems we'll have to cut that training period short. I'll just be getting on to making brunch." He said as he promptly left to where he left the food.

Efret tilted its head slowly as it registered what Shirou had said. Efret turned towards Arturia. Friend? It stored it to memory. Definitely friend.

Arturia's face drained of colour. Good god what did Shirou just suggest! Slowly she began to back away. No sudden movements. No sudden movements. She didn't know how Efret would react to anything. Her hands gripped her sword tightly, it was the only thing between her, and the beast. For a moment, they both just stared at each other, in the next-

"S-Shirou- It's tasting me!" Arturia yelled. Efret was sitting on top of her, somehow pinning her to the ground as it playfully licked at her cheeks. Her sword was long forgotten, lodged upright into the ground. "Q-Quickly before it eats me! Help!"

Shirou smiled at Efret and Arturia, it seemed that they were getting along. Hell, the fact that a phantasmal beast wasn't mauling one's brains out was enough of a friendly indicator.

It didn't take long for Shirou to finish cooking, he had enough practice every morning. "Food's ready." He called.

"...Oh...Great." Arturia said in monotone. Her face was hollow, a blank slate that gazed absently at Shirou. It was imperfect, but the fact that she could block out her emotions so well at her age agitated Shirou.

Shirou approached. "Stop that," he said as he held a chicken leg under Arturia's nose. Her eyes glanced at it, before she sniffed, then sniffed again, her facial features twitching. Shirou smiled wryly as Arturia snatched the leg from his hands and began eating it.

"Y-You left me to the wolves!" Arturia screamed as the light soon came back to her eyes. She was always up for food, so it was expected that she made a quick recovery.

Shirou raised a brow. "Efret was only playing with you," he reasoned. "He meant no harm, right Efret?"

Efret turned to Arturia. It had gotten off of her as soon as Shirou approached. "Friend," It spoke.

"It talks!?" Arturia said, almost forgetting about the chicken leg in her hand.

"See, Efret wouldn't have harmed you." Shirou laid down the food he had made on a large parchment over the grass. "However, you'll get into a lot of trouble in the future if you hide your emotions like that again- Are you even listening?"

"Yeah yeah," Arturia said as she reached out for more food.

"I mean it Arturia," Shirou said seriously. "Do it again...And no more food. At least not from me."

Arturia gasped. No more food from Shirou? Was the world ending?! "I won't do it again," she said promptly.

Shirou grinned. "As long as you understand."

They all sat in relative silence as they ate. Shirou would at times pick off chunks of food and feed Efret. There was a calming sort of silence, like the simple pleasant humm of a morning meal. Denotatively, it was, but it was the thought that counts.

"That's enough," Shirou said suddenly as he swatted Arturia's hand away, shocking her out of her food induced daze. "If you keep eating, there won't be anything left to bring. You can eat more when we get to your home"

"...I don't eat that much," Arturia said indignantly as she crossed her arms. "I eat just enough."

"Enough?" Efret furrowed his brows.

Shirou shook his head before turning too Efret. "We're going to leave now, so I need you to go home okay?" He said.

Efret nodded and took off into the sky. Shirou would would have to play with Efret later for listening to him so well. He turned to Arturia as he gathered up the food. "Well, let's get going before the food gets cold."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The town of Bristol was very rarely active in the morning, most people sleeping in after a hard day of work in the fields. Today was not the case. Residents were lively moving and crowding around an unlikely event. It was probably why so many of them were up in the morning.

"A contest?" Arturia spoke confused. This had never happened before. Contests were mainly for the nobility and those who could afford to enter. Therefore, why would a contest be held in the center market of Bristol, an area inhabited by mostly peasants and serfs? It was a contest in which there was no entrance fee no less.

Shirou listened to the announcer of the contest with his ears before he perked up. "The winner of the contest wins a male and female calf." He said. Normally, he wouldn't be interested in joining contests, but although he knew Arturia would never complain about his food, he himself would complain about the variety. There were many wonders of food and pastry incomplete without milk. Dairy to be precise. Besides, he was already looking to fill up the empty pens at Ashton manor.

"You plan on entering?" Arturia asked.

"Yup. They don't seem to have an age requirement." Shirou glanced cheerfully at Arturia. "And who ever said a kid can't beat an adult."

"Well, you'll have your work cut out for you," Arturia said. Shirou raised a brow in response. "You're going to have to best the announcer's champion archer, Gerrard."

"...And knowing how contests work, Gerrard must be quite skilled." Shirou deduced. Either way, he was still going to participate. He turned his gaze to Arturia. "Then wish me luck."

Arturia nodded her head and watched as Shirou registered for the contest. He had to squeeze through the growing crowd, but due to his small stature, he eventually made it through. The announcer had gazed skeptically at him, but relented when he remembered that all ages were allowed to participate.

"You sure you're in the right place red?" Gerrard asked Shirou. He wasn't much of a tall man, nor was he truly eye catching. Then again it was a good trait to have as an archer, less enemies to spot you. He had a thin scruffy beard that he placed a hand under as he stared thoughtfully at Shirou with his brown eyes. It wasn't everyday that he would have to compete with a kid; hell, it was a novelty experience. If the boy was going to participate, he was either really skilled, or down right stupid. However, it was better not to insult the nobility.

"Yeah I'm sure, but red?" Shirou asked.

"Well ya, red hair, red coat-did I miss anything?" Gerrard said as he removed his hand from his beard and relaxed a bit. He smiled, his thin lips and rugid jaw line stretched wide.

"No. So how exactly do I win this contest?" Shirou asked. "Do I just beat you?"

Gerrard laughed. "Get in line red, look how many challengers I have." He gestured with an arm to the crowd. "Gotta limit the competition first. This is what I get for having a free contest and healthy calves on the line."

Shirou's eyes glanced to the calves; they were eating at the announcers decorated cloak. "Healthy calves indeed," he said.

Gerrard followed Shirou's gaze and smiled knowingly. He bent over to Shirou and whispered into his ear. "I trained e'm to do that. Damn guy's a stuck up prick."

Shirou raised a brow. Gerrard did not elaborate any further, choosing instead to laugh his ass off as a calf made off with the announcer's wig. Soon regaining his bearings, Gerrrard turned to Shirou. "Well, good luck red. Competition's starting," he said as he began to walk off. "I'll be standing over there to face the winner."

Shirou blinked as the crowd of participants pushed him along. He didn't really have much choice in the matter as the excitement of the participants grew. The contest would only start when all applicants had taken a bow and six arrows from a small rack by a lengthy field. Target boards were set up over the field at varying distances, the farthest of which had a majority of participants squinting their eyes. No matter how Shirou looked at it, it was a contest not meant to be won, even more so when most of the participants were peasants and serfs. Unfortunately, Shirou didn't belong in either category.

While a majority of participants were squinting at the farthest targets, Shirou just calmly analyzed a proper trajectory. The distance was not a problem for him whatsoever. He had dealt with farther distances and harsher conditions. Nothing could really top shooting at Berserker in the woods of Einzbern castle Fuyuki- Not that he would want a repeat of a similar event.

Contestants were told that they would be participating in small groups of six to keep track of who shot which arrow. Therefore, twelve groups were created and numbered in the order of who will shoot first. Shirou was assigned to the twelfth group, the last group. The top six who accurately shot the farthest targets would compete against Gerrard in a different competition.

As Shirou expected, most participants chose to use their six arrows to shoot at targets they knew they would hit. After all, no one was expecting anyone to hit at the farthest targets. Those that were able to shoot just a bit farther than the rest qualified for the next round, that is; until Shirou took to the field and knocked a single arrow. His form was different from the rest, most adopting a rather unorthodox form that although comfortable could never be accurate. He stood straight, his back slightly arched at the top as he aimed with his bow.

Gerrard locked his gaze over Shirou. He knew that Shirou was different from the common rabble participating around him, but he didn't expect such a degree of aptitude for the bow. Sure he was the son of a Nobleman, his colours all but proved it, but most children of Nobleman were arrogant sods and snobs at best. It didn't need to be said that they never truly took their training seriously, not when all of life's leisures were within their grasp. Shirou didn't appear to fit that description, he reminded him more of himself if anything, but that would imply that he was a Bastard's son. Something of which he was definitely not. His eyes narrowed as he followed Shirou's line of site. The boy was aiming at the farthest targets, that admittedly, even he would have trouble striking.

It was the moment of truth as Shirou shot his arrow in a wide arc, the arm strength necessary for such an action, not lost on Gerrard. The arrow soared high, even the damnable air resistance seemed to have no effect on it. After reaching the apex of its flight, the arrow descended.

Gerrard whistled as the arrow struck true- straight into the farthest target board of ceder. Was it luck? Either way, the boy had achieved a feat impossible for his age. His eyes flickered to the radiant expression of a blond child. The boy's friend perhaps? Maybe lover, he looked too beautiful to be a boy? He shook his head, they were to young to have such thoughts, maybe when they were twelve and of marriageable age. For now, kids should simply remain kids. Talented kids perhaps, but still kids.

Shirou knocked his second arrow and promptly fired. It struck the same board, at the very same spot, piercing through the shaft of the previous arrow. Gerrard had no more disillusions, luck had nothing to do with the successful strike. It was all skill. He ran a hand through his hair, a frown over his face. Well fuck, he was going to lose to a kid...

Shirou didn't fire a third arrow, but rather put the rest away for a better use. It was unquestionable who would win the contests, and even those who had qualified hung up the white flag. The competition was now only between Shirou and Gerrard.

"Well, what now? Do we move onto the next competition?" Shirou asked the gaping announcer. Gerrard grinned, the look definitely suited the announcer, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. He walked to Shirou and whispered into his ear.

"No red. From what I've seen, there's no point in embarrassing myself in front of the crowd." Gerrard turned to the announcer. "Ya here that Poodle's, the lad's won. I appear to have eaten poison this morning- Ah...I'm too nauseous to compete!" He yelled, more to get the crowd to believe he wasn't a coward.

"Then go die, and my name isn't Poodle's!" The announcer yelled. "It's Charles of-"

"Dead Sacs! The pain."

"Charles of Dead Sacs?" Arturia asked confused. She had just walked up to stand beside Shirou and had only heard snippets of the conversation.

"N-No! It's-"

"Yeah, he's Chalres of Dead Sacs; his parents weren't right in the head." Gerrard interrupted. "Oh my stomach, I got to go! See you later red!" Gerrard hobbled off as the announcer gave the ropes of the calves to Shirou and chased after a laughing Gerrard.

Shirou and Arturia sweat dropped, but were soon on their way when the calves began to sniff at Arturia's tunic. Bad calves...

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

After the contest, it didn't take long to reach Arturia's home. It was made of cobblestone, the central pillars made out of fragments of marble. Unlike the other homes of Bristol, Arturia's home was quite large. Not as large as Ashton manor, but far larger than any other house. The roof itself was not made out of thatch, but of wood and a type of insulator to keep the heat in.

Arturia ran ahead of Shirou and pulled open the front door. Unsure of how to proceed, Shirou walked his newly won calves to the small porch by the arched window, and tethered them to a rail. He stood awkwardly in front of the house, not sure if he should step in or not. In the end, he didn't have a choice as Arturia reemerged and dragged him in by the hand; leading him into a room in which he saw Sir Ector and another man, a teenager really, sitting on feather-stuffed couches.

Arturia let go of Shirou's hand and took a seat by Sir Ector, motioning for Shirou to sit across from her. He complied after greeting Sir Ector and the now formally introduced, brother Kay. He was probably just barely eighteen, and his army cut only made him look younger. Like most residents of Bristol, and probably the kingdom, Kay had brown hair. However, his was darker than most. His black eyes offseted the light blue tunic and brown leggings in which he wore, but strangely, it seemed to suit him.

"So you brought him at last," Sir Ector said mirthfully as he reached a hand and patted Arturia's head. Arturia became flustered as her face contorted in frustration. Couldn't Sir Ector see that Shirou was watching? She pouted as she tried to shake Sir Ector's hand off, but failed to do so. Her efforts begun anew as her anger grew. Sir Ector didn't seem to care as he continued talking.

"I didn't think you ever would, but I'm proud-"

"-Proud that you won," Kay cut Sir Ector off. "Guess this means you want me to take a look at Shirou here. He'll need it."

Shirou's first impression of Kay, was that he was rather straight forward, a common trait of a braggart. Although, he would hold his opinion to himself.

Arturia paused and looked at Kay as she finally got Sir Ector's hand off, what? She looked puzzled. Had Sir Ector and Kay plotted something behind her back? They even involved Shirou no less?! Be that as it may, Arturia's pause was an unfortunate error as Sir Ector's devil of a hand once again found its way atop her head. Her gaze met Shirou's. He turned his face away, no doubt losing his opinion of her. Her face flushed as she tried to sputter out an excuse at the same time she tried to remove Sir Ector's hand. Again it didn't work. S-Sir Ector! She whimpered internally; she was losing face in front of Shirou...

"Now now, you can't possibly believe that that bet had everything to do with this. Little Arthur here had never once considered making a friend," Sir Ector said as he released Arturia. She bolted away from him to the opposite side of the room. Sir Ector smiled wryly.

"True enough. It was always training this, or training that," Kay said. "I didn't want to say this, but he was kind of a loner-"

"Hey!" Arturia yelled indignantly.

"-Who had death battles with the pigs in the stys. Well, if throwing their shit at them could count as a death battle."

Slowly, Shirou turned his incredulous gaze on Arturia. What? No really what?

"...N-Not true." Arturia stuttered. Her cheeks were tinted a rosy red and she was unable to meet Shirou's gaze. Although, she began to glare at Kay instead. Her gaze conveying her thoughts, not another word. It wasn't as if she started the fight with the pigs, it was always them. And even still, that event happened when she was five.

Silence as Arturia glared at her family. They had both embarrassed her the moment Shirou entered the room. Couldn't they understand she wanted to look good in Shirou's eyes? Why were they doing this to her?! Oh they would pay, of that she would make sure. She didn't say a word, her gaze falling over Kay, to Sir Ector, and back to Kay. Oh she had ideas, many ideas.

"Uhm," Shirou began to break the awkward silence. "What was it that you were talking about, Sir Ector? The thing involving Kay and I?"

"Oh, glad you asked," Sir Ector said as he stood up and motioned to Kay. "Just follow Kay, he'll explain everything."

"You heard the man. Let's go," Kay said as he stood up and left, signaling Shirou to follow with his eyes. He was heading towards the backyard.

Shirou followed after leaving behind the food he brought. He had to admit, he was curious about what would happen.

Meanwhile, Arturia slowly walked up to sir Ector and asked, "What's going on?"

Sir Ector sighed as he rested a hand on the back of his head. Quite frankly, he didn't like the depressed look in Arturia's eyes lately, and he knew the cause. She had been acting differently ever since the beginning of Summer. At that point, he was actually quite happy for her. He saw within her the happiness of childhood as she begun to act a little bit more her age. The way her teal coloured eyes would light up whenever she thought she snuck off in the morning, or the way she beamed when she disarmed Kay, they were all endearing to Sir Ector. All that he had become accustomed to from Arturia was training and more training for the day of the supposed prophecy. It was always, 'only a king can save a ruined country headed for death,' from her. Therefore, he quite liked the change of events...up until she learned of Shirou's inability to become a Knight.

"Well, you see, I may just know a way that Shirou can become a Knight." Sir Ector said.

"R-Really! But he doesn't have his apprenticed Knight..."

"There's more than one way to become a Knight."

Sir Ector knelt beside Arturia and whispered into her ear. "I can do that?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Of course you can. For the time being, I've asked Kay to test Shirou's aptitude. He's still a child, and even he should need his own training."

"Then why Kay? He's just going to lose."

"Lose? Sure you've disarmed Kay, but you haven't actually beaten him either. He's a versatile one- until the time he flailed like a chicken, that's when I knock him over the head," Sir Ector said ruefully. "Besides, my eyes are well enough to know that Kay is stronger than Sir Anders; he just doesn't put much effort unless he's losing and-"

"I yield!" Kay's voice sounded.

"-that...hasn't happened before."

Arturia smirked. If she couldn't defeat Shirou, then Kay shouldn't be able to either. If he had, she would of forced Shirou to train with her until they both defeated him. "You were saying, Sir Ector?"

"I'll have to double the lazy ass's training." Sir Ector muttered as he walked over to the backyard. "The point was to assess Shirou and teach him the humility of losing to a senior, not inflating his ego." For all Sir Ector knew from experience, the more a Squire won in battle, the more likely it was that he would one day underestimate his opponent. Arturia was different, he raised her after all, but he didn't quite know Shirou very well yet.

Arturia raced past Sir Ector to arrive at the backyard first. And then, and then she began laughing. Laughing so hard, her grin seemed to spread throughout her entire face.

"S-Shut up and help me!" Kay yelled. He was hanging by a noose around his foot over the small well. Now that Arturia thought about it, she was the one who left the noose for the water-bucket open when she left earlier in the morning. She stopped laughing. Even still, how he got stuck hanging by the well was a mystery even to her. Seeing her confusion, Shirou decided to speak up.

"His foot got caught in the noose, and then a horse pushed him into the well. Friend of yours?"

The horse Shirou was talking about was quite small, not even an adult. It walked up to Arturia and nuzzled her. Arturia began to pat its head. "This is the horse Merlin gave me. I haven't decided on a name yet, but she seems to dislike Kay."

"I hate the damn thing too!" Kay yelled before he turned to Shirou. "I yielded already so help me up."

Nodding his head, Shirou made his way over to Kay, and pulled with reinforced strength. He went swinging out under the well, and fell into the dirt. Kay turned his head up, only to gaze reproachfully at Sir Ector's glare. "...We'll talk later." Sir Ector said.

Five minutes passed as everyone gathered over to the dining table in the house. The food Shirou had brought was laid out for everyone to eat, Arturia being the first to take a seat. Everyone sat in chairs and began eating. Upon Sir Ector and Kays' first bites, they realized something. Arturia was a selfish girl. She had been eating such food for weeks, and only now did she bring some home? Sir Ector took note to place her on sty duty again, god knows she loved it. Family should always come before gluttony. It didn't help Arturia's case very much when she began to fuel the fire.

"I told you it was good. You should thank me for asking Shirou to make some for you," Arturia said smugly to Sir Ector, her chest puffed out.

"I did make some for them, starting two-weeks ago. You were the one who said you were going to bring it home." Shirou chided Arturia. Sir Ector raised a brow towards Arturia as Kay stiffened before relaxing.

"Not important." Arturia said quickly as she then turned to Kay as he took his last bite of food. "So?" She asked. She wanted to know what Kay thought of Shirou's food.

"So?" Kay mirrored slowly as he glanced at Arturia. He smirked. "Goblins and Trolls huh?"

Arturia blanked, Shirou and Sir Ector laughed. Kay ate the remaining food on Arturia's plate.

Kay: 1, Arturia: 0

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lord Wolfred was the chief and governor of Bristol. It was a peaceful town with little to no quarrels with its surrounding neighbors. However, the peace would be broken as the Saxon armies continue their skirmish throughout the Western lands of Britain. They were scattered once, fighting in limited mercenary groups that did little more than dent any fortress walls. However, that all changed when the Saxons banded together.

Yet the bloody Saxons had never done so before! No, the probability of a military leader was high, and he was a damn good one. By the organization of the coming Saxons, they were dividing into large armies before moving across the mainland. It would only be a matter of time before they could establish a foot hold in the country. The Old King Natanleod and his army of five thousand could only hold off the barbarians for so long. Lord Wolfred would best prepare for dire circumstances. This matter was far more troubling than the pirates of southern Ireland- to that matter he had already set up fortifications to deal with it.

For now...

Sir Wolfred, as he's more commonly known by, turned to the out of breath attendant beside him. He allowed the man a couple moments to regain his bearings before he asked what was wrong.

"Someone won the contest?" Sir Wolfred said in befuddlement. "It shouldn't be possible. Even the best bowmen I know could not accomplish such a feat, and even then they would readily admit that it was due to luck." Sir Wolfred frowned. "A boy? You're telling me that a wee lad who has seen at most ten summers defeated the best archer in Bristol?"

"Yes sir," The attendant said slowly. "There's talk that he may even be da best in the Kingdom. Tis quite frightening ta imagine an older version of him."

Sir Wolfred furrowed his brows. The contest was designed to assess a group of archers and prepare then for the coming Saxons. It was a strategy to weed out any potential archers within the town. To think a child had won..

"Keep me updated on this Shirou Emiya. Better yet, find out all you can about the boy," Sir Wolfred said. Potential as described shouldn't be wasted because the boy was a peasant, rather Sir Wolfred would rather put it to use. War medals far outweighed the meagerness of the class systems.

"I have nothing to say about the first order," A voice began. A figure pushed off from the wall adjacent to the Knight's barracks. It was Sir Anders, his helmet removed revealing his long blond hair tied down into a ponytail. His brown eyes flashed in knowing. He had not expected the kid he sparred with to be a bowman, not with the sword skills that were displayed. However, this could be interesting. He pushed past the other Knights and attendants until he stood before Sir Wolfred. "As for the second order, I may know a thing or two about the boy."

"Well spit it out then," Sir Wolfred said impatiently. He had had enough talking and doing nothing for the day. As far as he was concerned, he had to prepare for the coming Saxons. As a Lord who governs his people, it is his responsibility to protect their well beings. He was a Noble of Britain, he would not allow any uncivilized Saxon brutes to breach his domain even if the odds were bleak.

"No need to rush," Sir Anders said coolly, brushing back his bangs. Sir Wolfred glared. "Fine fine. Do you all remember the Old Ashtons, the secretive bunch?"

"I do. They were all oddly named and had the most peculiar pairs of eyes. The kind that seemed to look right through you." Sir Wolfred said. It was always unnerving whenever he spoke with the late Duke Ashton. He swore the man knew everything about you from just a mere glance. Always those golden-brown coloured eyes...They were mesmerizing, especially on Lady Ashton. For all his insecurities around Duke Ashton, there was one thing he knew for sure however, they were definitely good people. "But if there's one thing we all know, they were all good people, and damn good on the battlefield."

"That I agree," Sir Anders said with a huff. "I've had experience you see. It felt like everything you could possibly do is already known before the action is done. Those eyes that look and see right through every action... quite frightening."

"And how would you know? The Ashton Assassination occured when you were but a wee lad."

Sir Anders scratched his head. "Although a tad shameful to admit, I lost a spar quite recently- shut up all of you!" Sir Anders abruptly turned to the other Knights in the room. The one's in which he knew would laugh at him for it. Sir Wolfred let out a mirthful grin, he liked it when it was lively. "Although I lost, I still hold to the fact that it was because I did not take the boy seriously until he dented my armour with a wooden sword. It must have been magic I tell you. Those rumours about the Ashton's and magic must be true."

"You lost to a boy?" Sir Wolfred said, picking out the most relevant of the information Sir Anders stated. Although there were rumours about the Ashton's and magic, it was still wholly speculation. Therefore, it was more important to adress the more concrete observations. Somehow, he just knew where this was going.

"Yes. To Shirou Emiya of the Ashton's."