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Fate/Disturbance

Reincarnated in the age of the legendary King Arthur, in the dangerous, unknown and hectic world of Fate no less, Aston knew not what drove him to join the King in his, no, her cause.. What had driven him to join her Round Table of Knights? Was it his inability to look away and think solely for himself? Was it the indescribable urge to do something about the unimaginable suffering of the common man? Was it lust for his king? Was it a desire for fame and glory? His ambitions? Aston had fought, killed, suffered, been betrayed, helped, saved, waged war and so much more.. To the point where he'd forgotten the naive him of the past, forgotten what he fought for and perhaps desperately clung to his loyalty to the Legendary King of Camelot. Even as others left, he did not.. Aston remained his king's loyal spear, up until his last breath, his weapon was used to do as his king willed even if he'd long realised it would end with his own death... Now, appearing in a modern age he'd all but forgotten, in a war against his own king, would he cling to the loyalties of a life ended or would he act upon his realisations and in doing so, abandon all he'd stood for? * * * A bit of clarification, this fic is NOT set in the age of King Arthur, it's about a young teenager who reincarnated there and acted on naive thoughts and went too deep to back out once that part of him died off.. The story is set in the 21st century, in the Fate/Stay Night world. * * * Obligatory; All rights go their respective owners, I own nothing except my OCs. And, don't translate or 'share' my stuff, much obliged.

Bleap · Tranh châm biếm
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
64 Chs

Saints & Heroes

Dressed such that one might mistake him for a simple foreigner, wearing a white shirt with a black jacket on top, similarly coloured pants and shoes, the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh observed the morning sunrise with one hand in his pocket and the other slicking back his bright golden hair.

Behind him was, or what used to be, the Church a certain sadistic priest had been calling home for the past ten years. It was no more than ruins now, one side entirely blown apart and the others on the verge of falling over but then again.

It never had been a perfect example of majesty, it was a dull and gloomy place, much like Kirei himself but it did irk him because while a, "Fool." Kirei had been something of a companion to him over the course of ten years, supplying him with magical energy he had little need for after the corrupted Grail had made him flesh and blood following the last war.

So yes, it was quite irksome but, it was also to be expected.

Kirei was pragmatic and sadistic, yes but he could also show bouts of stupidity, evidenced by the fact that the fool had thought no servant summoned in this war would take his actions as a valid cause to take his head.

And truthfully, Gilgamesh couldn't even say he sought revenge for the man's long-coming demise, fighting right now would mean some rabid dog could dirty his clothes, his most favoured clothes.

It simply wasn't worth it.

"Maybe if I'd been here." Gilgamesh commented, not bothering to spare the ruins a second glance before treading away casually, unperturbed by the death of Kotomine Kirei.

How could he be?

His interest had stemmed from the fact that the Holy Grail believed the priest's wish to be worthy of granting but, ah well.

The Golden King found his lips slightly twitching, his annoyance with the fact that someone had killed off what should have entertained him was unacceptable growing tremendously within moments.

How had a mere mongrel worked up the guts to go against HIS desires?

Walking down the paved path into the city, Gilgamesh's inhuman blood-like eyes seemed to give off a soft glow and the wildlife steered clear, as if afraid of incurring even a tinge of the wrath of humanity's oldest hero.

"Mongrels.."

* * *

The Sun now stood high in the sky, casting light over the world and in silence, observing all the goings-on of mankind, as well as it's darkness and of such a thing, the Japanese City of Fuyuki was among the greatest of examples.

Where the common man toiled away to make ends meet, there were those who would never have to work a day in their life but that was a commonly observed example.

What made an example of Fuyuki was the war being waged in the shadows.

There were magi, individuals who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice innocents, even their own flesh and blood to attain their desires and there were also the black sheep among them, individuals who held great adversity to even thinking about utilising those uninvolved.

The war they waged was fought through valiant heroes and vile villains, all who came from different points across man's continued existence BUT, it seemed as though the day would be calm and without incident.

To the southwest of Fuyuki, Mount Enzou stood tall and proud, thought of as a sacred place with those beliefs only intensified by the rather majestic temple erected atop it.

Or at least it had been majestic.

The once clean grounds and rooftops were now littered with fallen leaves and immense amounts of dust. An odd gloom hanging about the place even with the sunlight illuminating most of it.

It became one of the consequences of the Holy Grail War and lay abandoned, Ryuudou Temple once manned by droves of devote believers and monks was empty. It's residents numbering less than five now.

Two of these were easily found, staring at one another in silence with weapons drawn and ready to strike, simply waiting for an opportunity. They were in one of the many empty grounds throughout the temple.

Aston, the King of Atrocity, sworn to the King of Knights, Arthur Pendragon, hadn't donned his armour, only wearing a black form-fitting shirt and grey trousers, "Must we do this?" He'd returned to the temple after declaring his feelings for Artoria and bided his time, waiting for the right moment to tear apart his current Master, or rather, the witch who'd hijacked his contract by threatening to harm children.

"Yes, yes we must. It is of great importance that we settle this." Sasaki Kojirou, healed to his fullest by Medea after the events of the prior night, scrutinised his opponent's form with narrowed eyes. His clothes had burnt in their earlier engagement but that was the thing about being a servant, all it took was a small wait and they looked good as new. The Assassin thanked the Gods for that, recalling how time-consuming it had been to search for new ones.

Aston's trademarked gentle smile crept onto his face as if instinct, "Ah yes, we must fight over who gets to scout the city." It appeared that being confined to the temple as a guard dog was a more arduous task than one would presume.

Of course all it took to end that conflict was Medea declaring such a thing entirely unnecessary, informing them that any and all points of interest were under constant surveillance, including the estates of the prominent magus families in the city. Soon enough, the two servants were back to what they'd been doing before their sudden disagreement.

"Many would argue that justice is blind." Sasaki raised a wooden cup, discussing a topic he found to be intriguing and curious with his newfound friend, "And that actual kindness is universal."

"That is a rather naive take." Aston answered, choosing to partake in 'sake' after being assured that servants were unhindered by such things, "Are you imagining a storybook saint?" Even then it was wrong to presume either of the Assassin's sentences were valid criteria.

Sasaki raised his brow at the words, "Most curious, do neither apply to you, a hero of legend by the standards of the West?" He spoke in a relaxed manner, rubbing his chin in thought. They were doing what was expected of them, discussing 'profound' topics over a shared drink.

"Certainly not, my temporary ally." Aston slightly chuckled at being called a hero, his legend being one of ruthless slaughter, "If the criteria you present is the plain truth then I am no saint for my compassion never has and never will extend to an enemy. My justice is not blind and motivated by personal interpretation."

Sasaki stopped mid-sip, glancing at the grey-haired man sitting by his side, "A hypocrite then?"

"Indeed, if I believe myself a saint and a kind hero then most certainly a hypocrite." Aston gulped down his own cup, not even slightly irked by the perhaps insulting accusation because he knew he was one, "But what even is good?" In the end he did not regret his actions fully because they had been motivated by personal desire, "I've done what I wanted and died for my beliefs, what is there to question?"

In the end, weren't most 'good' people hypocrites by some meaning of the word? To some extent?

"You're quite the weird one, aren't you? No matter." Sasaki smirked at Aston before looking at the blue sky and grinned, "It's rather boorish and annoying to be in the company of a man who is as kind to his foes as he is his friends. Something is wrong with such folk or rather, they rarely even exist." He gave a small shrug, wondering if such people even did actually exist.

Feeling the warm sunlight against his skin as a gentle breeze caressed his bare skin, Aston too smiled, "But perhaps there is something wrong with me as well." This was why he didn't spend too much time pondering on his motivations and aspirations, "My morality is malleable in the hands of a certain someone."

"Then there is nothing wrong, many would think you lucky for finding such a someone." Sasaki calmly reassured, hoping that the knight did mean what he thought he'd meant.

Aston interjected with a smirk, "It's not you." He'd been serious long enough and such a pleasant day would be wasted thinking about what had already passed.

"Did I even insinuate such a thing?" Sasaki's grin froze as he mechanically turned to stare at his companion, clenching his fist when he realised he'd fallen for a trap that should have been visible.

"I wouldn't know past the fact of the matter." Aston off-handedly pointed at the Assassin, "You spent time asking a man of his feelings."

"I hope you stub your toe."

The two grown men deadpanned at each other, engaged in a sudden staring contest that ended when Sasaki sighed with closed eyes, believing such things to be past him. He did wonder however, what would happen if the grey haired man was selfish and cruel like many others?

"I will affirm my belief however, the famed honour of western warriors is not without base if they are like yourself." Sasaki nodded sagely, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Aston was, even if he wanted no fame for it, deserved to be hailed as a hero of legend, "A hero need not be a saint just as a villain need not be a monster."

A falling leaf landed on Assassin's lap, strangely managing to make him realise that his Master was in constant danger so long as Aston was here. If he was a heroic knight, he would break before he would bend to her.

Sasaki only chuckled at that, holding no love for the woman who fell so low as to employ hostages in her schemes.

"Witch, do the magus of this age happen to be the same as the ones from mine?"

Aston plainly stared at the Sun, recalling that the momentary peace would last only for as long as the star was in the sky.

*

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