Chapter 1: 2600 B.C.E.
Summary:
Ritsuka and Mash arrive in the Seventh Singularity, in ancient Sumer.
Notes:
This is a little preview of the latest project that's been soaking up my attention, since I'm beginning work on the final chapter and getting excited to share it.
My usual weekly chapter updates will begin... soon?
Chapter Text
He was falling.
Three seconds in, and the mission was already going just perfectly.
"Romaaan!" Ritsuka yelled into his comms, more out of reflex than anything else as adrenaline immediately flooded into his system. And, when more reliable higher brain function kicked in-- "Mash!?"
"Master!" the Demiservant reached out for him, just a few short feet away.
Relax, Ritsuka.
Mash had all the strength and durability of Sir Galahad, the Heroic Spirit of the Shield; if she could only grab him, insulate him from the impact--
--Then again, Servants didn't trounce physics just by virtue of existing. Whether Mash was carrying him or not, the force of terminal velocity coming to a sudden stop against the ground would probably be enough to throw his brain against the inside of his skull with lethal force, if it didn't break his neck. Ritsuka Fujimaru was about to be killed by none other than Sir Isaac Newton, and he hadn't even been summoned.
Caster? Probably a Caster. Even though Newton probably never even knew about magic -- er, magecraft.
That was about as far as Ritsuka's mind managed to frantically race before he was snatched out of the sky.
The next thing Ritsuka knew for sure, he and Mash were both slowed to a stop just a few feet above the ground -- where they continued to float. Ritsuka blinked, breathed, struggling to catch his breath, settle the upset in his stomach from the G-force of his rescue, then raised his eyes to their rescuer.
She was -- she was beautiful. There was no other adequate word to describe her at a glance. The woman carrying him and his Servant each under one arm as if they were weightless, her long, black hair floating as languidly around her shoulders as she was above the ground, was so striking that Ritsuka's chest actually hurt when he first looked at her. Eyes like glittering carnelians angled downward to meet his.
"You're welcome," she prompted. Ritsuka's Rayshift uniform automatically translated the spoken words, one of its several utilitarian enchantments as a Mystic Code.
Ritsuka grasped onto his senses again, and gasped, "--Thanks!"
"Thanks?" she repeated. "Hmph."
And she dropped them.
Mash was adroit enough to twist and land on her feet, but Ritsuka went down squarely on one shoulder, immediately curling into himself in pain.
"Thanks is for a street vendor cutting you a deal on vegetables, not for when the great Inanna-Lamassu herself personally saves your life."
She crossed one bare foot behind the other idly, like she was leaning casually against a wall and not flying a meter off the ground, but her shoulders were back and straight; she radiated power looking down on them.
Inanna. Ritsuka's knowledge of myth was never as deep as he wanted it to be these days, but that name was easy to recognize, from da Vinci's briefing if nothing else: also known as Ishtar, sometimes as Astarte, goddess of warfare and sexuality, protector of humanity and patron of Uruk.
In person, she filled every bit of those titles. In Ritsuka's eyes as a Master, she literally glowed like a bright, burning star. Which revealed something else -- she was a Servant.
"Thank you," Ritsuka forced himself to repeat, drawing up onto his knees, "Really, thank you so much -- m-my lady. We would have been killed if you hadn't saved us."
"Obviously," Inanna said. She cocked her head slightly to one side. "You're even kneeling. Good. But usually, one also bows before a goddess."
Ritsuka hesitated for a moment, trying to tell if she was joking, but he supposed powerful goddesses probably weren't prone to making light of disrespect. The American in him didn't love the idea, but the Japanese in him had gotten enough practice with his grandparents.
Option 1: She's serious, and not doing it offends a valuable ally… Option 2: She's joking, and doing it loses you… what? A little pride versus the fate of humanity? Get over yourself, Ritsuka.
Ritsuka took a breath and bent forward into a dogeza, touching his forehead to the dirt. Mash watched him in surprise, opening her mouth to interject--
"Orei moushi agemasu, kami-sama," Ritsuka tried again, interrupting Mash. He hoped the mystic code would handle the translation.
"You actually did it!" Inanna laughed. "Get up, get up…! To be honest, I wasn't expecting that from one from your time. I'm glad to see they still have manners in the doomed future."
"You know about us?" Mash asked, offering her hand to her Master.
"I know all about you Chaldeans, and your incinerated history," the goddess confirmed, running her eyes over Mash with a distant curiosity. "The Throne made me aware of everything I needed which I did not already know."
"You're a Servant!?" Romani interjected, his voice emanating loud and crackling from Ritsuka's throat mic. "I thought pure divinities couldn't be summoned as Servants."
Now he can hear us, Ritsuka thought petulantly as he dusted off the knees of his uniform, swiping a small pebble from his burnt-copper bangs.
"This Singularity is starting out much better than I thought," Roman sighed. It sounded like he had been holding his breath since the moment Ritsuka had appeared in the sky. "Ritsuka is a Master. If you would be willing to--"
Inanna interrupted him with a dismissive wave of her hand, looking off into the distance. "No, I won't contract with you -- or anyone, in fact, so don't take it personally. Actually, I think I've done more than enough here already. If you can't make your own way and defend yourselves, you have no hope of saving your people, or mine."
She kicked off from her place in the air and ascended higher, as if she had made a backstroke through the sea, and smiled at the Chaldeans. "But I've given you your lives for now, and you have my blessing, for what it's worth -- and it's worth a lot. You should be grateful."
Without allowing further comment, the goddess spun on her heel and surged away into the sky, the buffet of wind knocking Ritsuka back and off his feet again.
He sighed, rubbing the dirt from his eyes and trying to readjust to the rapid changes to the situation. Mash knelt to help him up again, thumbing her own throat mic as her free hand wrapped strongly around his bicep. "Doctor, what happened?" she demanded. "I thought you were Rayshifting us directly to Uruk."
Rather than Roman, da Vinci answered from the same mic, no doubt physically shouldering him aside in the command room. "We did! The coordinates on our end are exact, and they don't match where you are now. Some kind of interference must have disrupted your target location."
"And where are we instead?" Ritsuka asked.
"Almost 200 kilometers northwest -- in Kish," she answered.
Ritsuka looked around in a circle slowly. "Arrre you sure…?"
Kish was supposed to be a major city-state in this era, the de facto capital of Mesopotamia until the beginning of Gilgamesh's reign. Inspecting the area around him, Ritsuka guessed the area may have once been inhabited, the ground flattened and dotted with intermittent rubble, but not recently.
Tens of thousands of people were supposed to be living here.
"Ritsuka! Thermal readings heading your way!"
"Fauna," Mash reported, peering at the approaching pack. "Predatory movement patterns."
Ritsuka stepped in behind her, and Mash rolled her shoulders back, adopting a bold stance as she summoned her shield. It dug into the dirt with a heavy clang, the black plate armor of Sir Galahad appearing over her black-and-violet Rayshift suit.
"Magical energy readings indicate these are not normal animals, even for the Age of Gods," Roman informed them. "Visual confirmation?"
"Yeah, I think we can confirm," Ritsuka said. He didn't know much about obscure Mesopotamian mythological beasts, if there were many, but the creatures closing in on them were certainly not normal; vaguely resembling a collection of hyenas, lions, and knife-headed iguanas, all grotesquely oversized, garishly-colored, maws like anglerfish dripping with spittle.
Mash drew the sword of Galahad from her hip, let it spin in her hand, and passed it to her Master. They couldn't take anything with them through the Rayshift, save for the specially-designed mystic code uniforms they wore, and while Ritsuka's had been enchanted with a number of useful code-casts, they were only so helpful with his mediocre magical energy levels. He had one slight advantage few others did, though: he had Heroic Spirits like Mumei, Jeanne d'Arc, Blackbeard, and Cu Chulainn as his allies in Chaldea, plentiful teachers for how to wield a sword and defend himself.
He turned the blade over in his hands; bright steel, red hilt -- some kind of stone, Ritsuka ventured, for counterweight. The sword that, according to legend, had been presented to Sir Balin by a mysterious lady who came to court, and after his death passed to Galahad, then Lancelot. Since learning of the true identity of the Heroic Spirit in Mash, Ritsuka supposed that it might have been Secace, a blade also attributed rather vaguely to Lancelot beside his famous Aerondight; though da Vinci thought it more likely it had once been known as Tyrfing, from Norse legend: cursed blade that would eventually kill the most cherished person of the one who drew it, which matched its role in Sir Balin's story as well. Luckily, with Galahad's spirit summoned as a Shielder rather than a Saber, it was only a beautiful sword, not a Noble Phantasm. It had no special abilities, but nor did it carry any curse -- at least… not yet; the white capelet hanging from Mash's shoulders and waist were new, ever since they fought the Wolf King in Camelot.
They wouldn't know the sword's proper name unless Galahad decided to speak up some day, but the most important thing was simply that it was a weapon they would always have available, and Ritsuka could actually use it. Given the alternatives, he'd take that any day.
"Stay close to me," Mash said.
"As if I'd go anywhere else."
He meant it -- she was his shield, in a very literal sense as well as a metaphorical one. But it was gratifying to see the slight pink that came to her cheekbones, too, even as she kept her eyes fixed with laser focus ahead.
The first beast leapt at them like a huge, dog-faced lion, and found itself smashed aside with a great swing of Mash's shield. Ritsuka ran his uniform's Reinforcement and Predictive Evasion code-casts and stepped back, slashing his sword along the belly of a smaller creature that ducked aside and tried to lunge at them from behind. It squealed in pain, then was silenced as Mash spun, bringing the heel of her armored riding boot into its skull and punting it away with Servant strength. Ritsuka shot a Gandr over her shoulder, making a charging chimera stutter and pause; it was probably unnecessary, as Mash was already turning back into position, but she took the opening to swing her shield out toward another beast before turning back and punching the chimera out with a gauntleted fist. Ritsuka stepped back in tight to Mash's back as she began to push forward, using her massive shield as cover as a series of impacts rattled against it. Spines? Venom? Ritsuka couldn't tell. But they were silenced when Mash planted the shield into the ground and swung herself over the top in another brutal kick. Ritsuka pushed himself against the shield dutifully, keeping to cover while Mash cleared a small perimeter. That is, until Ritsuka noticed something else.
"Mash!" he called out, heaving the shield up in his arms and rushing toward her. He practically fell into her, lifting the shield up over them as they fell to the ground, and impacts rained heavy all around them.
"Master -- did you see what it is?" Mash asked.
Her chest heaved beneath Ristuka's head as he shook it negative. "I just--"
"It's alright," a voice assured them. "You can come out now. The udug are all dead."
Mash's hand he hadn't quite noticed laying protectively over his ribs twitched, but Ritsuka sucked in a breath and nodded, making to push the shield off them. Even if their new companion was lying, it definitely wouldn't help them to stay prone on the ground in a tangle.
Mash understood that, too, lifting the shield off them and getting her feet under her in a crouch as soon as Ritsuka rolled off her, and they found themselves face-to-face with a green-haired figure wearing garb not dissimilar to what Inanna had worn; a long skirt secured by a simple belt, a sash over one shoulder, and golden bracelets, necklace and earrings.
"My name is Enkidu," the figure bowed their head cordially, "And I am here to escort you, Master of Chaldea, to Uruk."
Chapter 2: An Age of Gods and Demons
Summary:
Ritsuka and Mash make allies in Sumer.
Notes:
This took longer than expected by a wide margin. I suddenly became very busy in my personal life, including the sudden loss of my closest friend. But he was always supportive of my ability to analyze and write and overthink. I wanted to finish and post this fic, and after some time, I think I'm there. Or at least, good enough. I hope you all can enjoy my little Sharkelonia experiment.
Chapter Text
Aside from Gilgamesh, Enkidu, the Chain of Heaven, was probably the single most well-known figure from Sumerian myth in Ritsuka's time -- perhaps even more well-known than Inanna herself. Supposedly a bestial man made from clay, sent by the gods to bring the unruly young King Gilgamesh to heel, only for them to become enthralled by the beauty of human society and become the king's best friend and equal, instead. Between Enkidu, Gilgamesh, and even Inanna herself aiding them -- even if Inanna seemed to be opposed to formal alliance for the moment -- Ritsuka couldn't imagine how bad things could get, even if Romani had been worried at the continually-climbing Foundation Incineration Value over the past few months.
Then again, when they had first arrived at the outskirts of what had formerly been Jerusalem, now rebuilt and christened as a new Camelot, Ritsuka hadn't been able to imagine how bad things would get there, either. The memory of the electric green eyes of the Wolf King, the demigod who had once been the man Arthur Pendragon, still sent chills down Ritsuka's spine.
"Heed my words carefully," the knight-king had said, his voice still unnervingly calm even after their intense battle. The man -- if he could still be called human -- was taller than Arthur had been in his "Altered" form in Fuyuki, more heavily armored, wearing a mantle of untarnished white even after their grueling battle and a thin crown of gold shining like pure light.
"The Seventh Grail is the key. Even if every other Singularity is corrected, if the Seventh Grail remains, humanity's history will forever be incinerated. It is also the only trace that can reveal the location of his Temple outside of Time; the only Grail the King of Mages sent into the past by his own hand."
"He sent it into the past," Roman realized. "That's it. I haven't been looking in the right place. Every other Grail was planted by one of his Demon Gods after the Age of Solomon -- I assumed they all were. I'm sure we can find it now!"
"Have a care, Arbiter of Chaldea," the Wolf King bid them once again. "In the depths of the Seventh Singularity lies a great demon you cannot yet imagine, one whose strengths surpass Solomon himself -- or even me."
Ritsuka shuddered again just thinking of it. He wasn't about to forget that warning, or any of the lessons he had learned in that tarnished Camelot. Which is why, for instance, he was sticking very close to Mash as Enkidu led them north, rather than south, toward Uruk.
"The regions to the south are the domain of another goddess," Enkidu had explained. "To the north, too, another of the Triple Goddess Alliance reigns. But there is a narrow path north of Nippur we can follow to come safely around to the east -- then cut south before we find ourselves within the third goddess' territory."
Sumer, it seemed, was surrounded on three sides by powerful goddesses, with their backs against the sea. Over three-quarters of the population had already been killed, Enkidu claimed. Ritsuka supposed that three allied goddesses and an apparently endless army of beasts might indeed be ample opposition to Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and Inanna -- but perhaps more pertinently, he quietly surmised that if the local populace was unable to identify the goddesses, then they were not of Mesopotamia at all. They had to be Servants, like Inanna.
In the previous Singularities, there had always been either six or seven Servants: an Archer and a Lancer, and a mix of four Cavalry- or Extra-type Classes, plus a Saber if the Servants had a proper summoner. Assuming he was right, and the three goddesses were Servants as well as Inanna, that still left at least three other Servants to account for.
"Can you tell us anything more about the goddesses?" Ritsuka asked.
Enkidu looked back over their shoulder, but only said, "The King will be able to tell you more."
They weren't one for talking, Ritsuka noticed, continuing to study the being's back, seeing as there was little else to do. He found his eyes tracing up and down the crimson tattoos there, very similar to the ones adorning Cu Chulainn's body, a symbol of divinity. They curled up over thin shoulders, and trailed down beneath their long skirt over wide hips. Ritsuka couldn't help but feel a little pang. It was difficult to tell, even with prolonged observation, if the body Enkidu possessed had been molded into the shape of a man or a woman, with its long, slender proportions and mix of delicate and sharp features, and Enkidu voiced that they neither preferred nor associated with either gender, a feeling Ritsuka was somewhat familiar with. He found himself a bit envious of the being's androgyny.
Suddenly, Enkidu stopped in their tracks. Again, Mash's hand went straight to cross over Ritsuka's hip, keeping them a few meters back.
"Come out," Enkidu demanded, turning to the side.
The forest was thick here -- thick enough, apparently, that it had been able to conceal the trio of figures that now emerged from the brush. Ritsuka grinned -- he recognized the man leading the group, a wandering Servant who had given them vital information from the Atlas Academy in the Sixth Singularity and, as it happened, had been helping them even before then.
"Rasputin!"
The tall, broad-shouldered priest nodded graciously at the recognition as he stepped out of the lush foliage. "It is good to see you again, Fujimaru-kun. Though I would suggest keeping True Names to yourself as much as possible, while we are still well within enemy territory. "
"Gomen."
"Please, call me Father Kotomine. I am, after all, the dominant driving personality in this summoning, at Rasputin's behest."
"Rasputin" seemed to be a middle-aged Japanese man with a deep, rolling voice -- a Pseudoservant, a Russian wraith lacking enough renown or personal strength to normally be summoned as a Servant, bonded to a suitable host with some similarities to bridge the gap and allow his summoning for a specific purpose… which Rasputin still refused to reveal. He was cagey at times, and Mumei had been very vocal about his distrust of the priest, but he had been nothing but helpful to Ritsuka and Mash in the Sixth Singularity, where he had guided them through the secret Atlas Institute.
"No need to be so cagey," the woman in white accompanying him patted him condescendingly on the shoulder, then winked at Ritsuka and Mash."Go ahead and say my True Name out loud, if you think you've got it. I'll give you some hints: I'm from the same time and place as your Shielder. In fact, I was the one who first gave Sir Balin that sword at her hip."
"You're not -- Nimue!?" Roman exclaimed. "The same Nimue who helped us in Camelot? Ah, hey--! Fou, get down! What's wrong with you?"
Nimue ignored the untintended chatter from Ritsuka's mic, just as the two Chaldeans did, and continued, "That's right! That grouchy old curmudgeon never would have gotten anywhere without me. I'm the Caster Servant of King Gilgamesh, now. He petitioned me for my help, and I have graciously accepted his proposal."
The petite woman batted lilac eyes prettily and smiled as she brushed a lock of snow-white hair behind a sharp, elfin ear, finger tracing the edge of a delicate water lily tucked among the strands. She was tiny, not even reaching five and a half feet at Ritsuka's guess even with her steep stilettos, her long sleeves nearly touching the grass.
"But I thought you were stranded on the Reverse Side of the World, like all faeries in the modern world," Roman said, grunting over his battle with Fou in his lap.
"I'm stranded in the modern world, yes, but this is the Age of Gods," Nimue reminded him. "Faeries still walk the Earth at this time, with smiling faces, picking up all sorts of bad habits from humans. Now, we're a little too far back and I technically haven't been born yet, but the Throne has never cared about little details like that, has it? So, from Avalon, I was able to sort of hitch a ride on the summoning system. Avalon is also the British underworld, after all, so I technically meet the summoning requirements twice over -- I'm not alive yet, so that makes me dead! Sorry I couldn't help more directly back in Jerusalem, but I knew you could handle things.
"Oh -- and this is little Alexander," she said, "The Rogue Servant whom I came all the way out here to collect, along with all of you. Kirei was kind enough to accompany me."
"Hello," Alexander greeted warmly, if a little awkward. Despite being called "little," he was a sight taller than the diminutive Nimue, though his features shared some of Enkidu's slightness and softness, speaking of a still-young and gentle man, despite the shortsword at his side and the leather armor he wore.
"Alexander is a fake name, of course," Nimue said outright. "He's shy."
"Are you also a Servant of Gilgamesh?" Ritsuka asked Rasputin.
"Indeed, on this occasion, I do serve the King of Uruk."
"So King Gilgamesh has Servants of his own," Roman observed, apparently having come to similar conclusions about the goddesses as Ritsuka had. "How many of you are there?"
"Unfortunately, Rassy-poo is right," Nimue shrugged, "We really shouldn't give away potentially sensitive information -- not when enemies might be listening. Suffice to say that Gilgamesh summoned a full array of seven Servants by his own hand once he foresaw this calamity, after his return from searching for immortality."
"That's great news," Roman sighed. "Well… both good and bad, I suppose. On one hand, it means we have another five powerful allies to look forward to. On the other… it means we could also have two more powerful enemies we haven't even heard about yet."
"Oh?" Nimue smiled, looking away from Enkidu for the first time in the conversation. "Have you caught on already?"
But she wasn't speaking to Roman. Enkidu looked away from Nimue over their shoulder, and found Mash had retreated another few steps, now holding her shield in front of her in a full defensive posture, with Ritsuka just behind her, red-hilted sword drawn.
"If Gilgamesh has already returned from his search for immortality…" the Master said quietly, "… then Enkidu died years ago."
"Very good, Fujimaru-kun," Rasputin congratulated him. "Can we assume, then, that you are the foe who killed good Leonidas at Nippur?"
"Ahhh, too bad…" not-Enkidu sighed. "I was starting to hope you'd blindly follow me all the way back home to Mother. Oh, well. A failed enchantress from the last moments of the Age of Gods, a fake priest from a world with barely any magic to its name, a nameless Rogue, and a girl playing pretend at being a Servant aren't going to make things that much harder, really."
Chains of glowing gold shot out from Enkidu's body, wrapping strongly around Rasputin and Alexander, but they pinged harmlessly off Mash's shield, and Nimue casually swept them aside with a wave of her staff, not even making contact.
"Oh nooo," she dramatized, "Whatever shall we do against such a clever foe?"
Enkidu snarled, and launched themselves into the air, more chains whipping out in all directions, wrapping back around tree trunks, seeking to enweb and entangle their targets. Mash wrapped her arm around Ritsuka's waist and kicked off through the forest, ducking back and forth, spinning to deflect chains with her shield. But the more she moved, the more chains seemed to come at her from behind, from above, even from below -- every time she repositioned to escape one hooked chain, it seemed she stepped into the line of two more. They were slowly being caged in.
Finally, they were caught -- Mash yelped as sturdy chains wrapped around her ankle and dragged her upward into the trees, reaching down toward her Master as he fell, only to be ensnared in a net of chains himself. Her shield was torn away and pinned to another thick branch of cedar as the two Chaldeans were held spread-eagle by Enkidu's chains.
"Finally," the false Enkidu rolled their eyes. They turned back to where they had cocooned Nimue -- and scowled as they saw her on the toes of one foot atop the tangle of chains that had held her, using her staff as a balance pole.
"Oh, poor clever puppet," she tutted. "I know, it's unfair -- you don't know anything about Camelot! There was no way for you to know who taught me, or what his specialty was."
She laughed, echoing ghoulishly through the forest as all of them -- Nimue, Mash, Ritsuka, Rasputin and Alexander -- vanished, replaced by clouds of pale blue snapdragon blossoms that swirled around Enkidu in the wind.
"Nimue was one of the Nine Sorceress-Queens of Avalon -- the Ladies of the Lake," Roman explained. "She's probably the second-most well-known behind Morgan le Fae herself. Although the Ladies were all allies and often acted in their own self-interest against the male-dominated political climate of the time, they weren't all unified in their own goals or ideals, and Nimue, despite her personal antagonistic relationship with Merlin, appeared more often as a friend to help guide Arthur's knights. She's reputed to be as good a magician, if not better, than Merlin himself."
"You wouldn't argue Merlin didn't deserve to be trapped if you knew the lady herself," Nimue said coyly. "She was a good teacher, though. I'm not so bad -- but I wouldn't say I'm all good, either. I only tried to help out a few young knights who needed to learn how to be good for themselves. That's one reason I'm so interested in you three," she winked at Ritsuka and Mash.
"We're glad to have you on our side," Roman said again. "Especially if we can count Enkidu among our foes…"
Ritsuka shook his head. "I knew the whole thing was odd. I just didn't expect Enkidu, of all people, to side against Gilgamesh."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Nimue told him. "All the best lies are just little truths, presented carefully to let you draw your own false conclusions. Besides -- I don't think that's Enkidu, or not really. You're right: Enkidu would never side against Gilgamesh, and if he would side with gods at all, you'd think it would be with the ones who created him, not foreign invaders."
"Actually -- why aren't the gods here?" Ritsuka asked. "I mean -- we met Inanna, but--"
"Did you, now?" Rasputin raised an eyebrow.
Mash nodded. "She saved us when our Rayshift malfunctioned, and left us falling from the sky above Kish… then she left us to fight the udug on our own."
"I see. How very like her. King Gilgamesh will be most amused to hear that."
"But Inanna said she was a Servant," Ritsuka resumed. "What about the other gods? Why aren't they here? I mean, this is the Age of Gods. Inanna was physically present alongside the Bull of Heaven in Uruk in the Epic of Gilgamesh not that long ago, wasn't she? Why haven't they stepped in to fight this… Triple Goddess Alliance? Or… have they?"
"No, no," Nimue assured him, "Don't worry, the gods of Mesopotamia haven't been all wiped out by a measly three Divine Spirits. Unfortunately, they're just not interested in helping."
"Not… interested?" Mash repeated.
"Indeed," Rasputin nodded. "Upon his return from his fruitless quest for immortality, King Gilgamesh resolved upon the ideal with which he had been courting for much of his adult life: to shepherd humanity to find their own path, away from the rule of the gods."
"They could still manifest, although it's already harder than it used to be," Nimue said, "But they won't. They've been trying to bring Gilgamesh to heel for decades -- they see this as his own fault, and maybe the punishment he finally needs. They already tried once to wipe out humanity themselves, after all, with the great flood about twenty-three generations ago."
"Wrathful gods, apt to take life as easily as they give it," Rasputin said sagely. "And yet, not entirely without mercy. The god Enki whispered news of the impending judgment to the King Ziusudra, who built a great ark for his family to survive, along with the local wildlife. One must wonder if it is Ziusudra's story upon which the tale of Noah is based, or if a great deluge is simply the divine's preferred method of extinction."
"If you -- Rasputin and Kotomine, I mean -- if you're both priests, aren't you not supposed to acknowledge other gods?" Ristuka pointed out.
"I acknowledge only one Lord," Rasputin reiterated, as casual as if he had not just questioned the very existence of one of his religion's most famous figures. "And yet, I am repeatedly faced with little-disputable proof of pagan deities throughout these Singularities. However, their existence alone hardly dethrones the Lord. I equally acknowledge that the bible was written by human hands -- hands that quake with age, that falter with memory, that leap with imagination and interpretation, and that clench with personal greed and ambition. And, in any case… Rasputin is not remembered as a shining example of priesthood, is he?"
"Luckily though, one of the Triple Goddesses is already dead," Nimue said. "Ibuki-douji was killed at Nippur a few months ago. It was a major turning point in the war… until that Enkidu showed up, anyway."
"Alexander," Mash said suddenly. Ritsuka frowned, but listened intently. Mash usually wasn't one to start conversations of her own volition -- she wasn't very good at them. "Nimue said that isn't your real name -- would it be safe to tell us your True Name now?"
Ah, of course -- Mash was rooting for information on the member of the party they knew the least about and, in her mind, therefore the most suspect. She still saw the world in terms of mission priorities: enemies and allies, priority objectives and potential sacrifices. That was how she had been raised, the role she had been expected to fill in Team A: a universal catalyst to summon Servants in the field.
Ritsuka, of course, couldn't use her to summon any other Servants, nor could the other Servants they'd gathered in Chaldea accompany them -- with limited resources, they still only had two working Rayshift Coffins, and Ritsuka was far from the level of magus capable of summoning a second Servant. Besides, Mash was his Servant, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"I apologize, but I prefer to keep my True Name to myself for now, out of shame," Alexander said with chagrin.
"Not Alexander the Great, are you?" Ritsuka asked.
"I'm afraid not. That would indeed have been a worthy ally for your battles."
Fair enough; accounts held that Alexander the Great had dark hair and heterochromia, neither of which matched the young blond in front of them.
"Alexander is a fine young man, and my Servant," Nimue said.
The young man in question hung his head a little. "A Rogue Servant has limited options."
"Oh, you'll hurt my feelings. He's got a good heart; he's trustworthy, if not the best fighter."
"You would hurt mine, if your words weren't true enough," Alexander admitted. "I'm reluctant to bring my rotten luck upon Uruk, but… I'll do my best to help escort you to the city."
"Thanks, Alexander," Ritsuka offered.
Mash nodded. "Understood."
"It's a little arrogant to think one person's bad luck could bring down an entire civilization, isn't it?" Nimue said. "And Mesopotamia has proven pretty resilient these past few months. I wouldn't be so self-absorbed if I were you."
They reached a cliff at the edge of the forest, and Nimue swept her hand out in a grand gesture, grinning back at her audience. Before them on an open field was a massive wall spanning the entire valley, and a veritable sea of udug of all shapes and sizes throwing themselves at it, only to be struck down by fighting men and women, flying arrows and spears.
"No way…" Roman gasped. Ritsuka could hear loud typing over the mic. "That's impossible -- my sensors are showing that wall extends all the way between the Tigris and the Euphrates!? Nothing that massive was ever constructed in this era!"
"Thaaat's right," Nimue chirped. "King Gilgamesh has an extremely high level of clairvoyance -- six months ago, he foresaw the fall of Mesopotamia at the hands of a Mother of Demons, so he started preparing immediately. What you're looking at right now is the absolute front line: the North Wall, protecting everything south of Nippur, made in part by the materials scavenged from the fallen cities like Tummal and Kish. We've still got a long way to go, but once we reach the wall, we can get to a boat, and getting to Uruk will be a lot faster by the waterways."
"Gilgamesh truly is a great king to have coordinated such an effort," Alexander said, looking out over the wall with awe, almost longing. "I hope you're right; that my misfortunes alone are not enough to topple such a great people."
"If Gilgamesh is clairvoyant, does he know who the Triple Goddesses are?" Ritsuka asked.
"Unfortunately, all forms of clairvoyance are ultimately limited by what one can see, and most forms of remote viewing require a familiar focal device," Rasputin explained. "Nimue, as a Lady of the Lake, can turn bodies of water into Infinity Mirrors and peer through them, even viewing possible futures, but no scouts or familiars have been able to get close to the goddesses and survive. King Gilgamesh himself has not left Uruk in months."
"Plus, his clairvoyance isn't like mine," Nimue chirped, "Most kinds of clairvoyance are really only high-speed subconscious calculation. Spell-based clairvoyance often only shows the caster what they already think is most likely, or what they're most worried about seeing; sometimes it can even spit out a totally random possibility rather than a truly likely one. Gilgamesh's ability is more reliable, but still not perfect. It comes from his visit to the Abyss after Enkidu's death, granting him familiarity with all things -- occasionally that manifests as visions, but mostly he's just super good at guessing the true nature and most probable future of what he looks at. Playing chess with him is a total waste of time, but it's more difficult for him to anticipate how a whole war will go unless he sees every individual soldier for himself."
"I'll make sure not to play hangman with the King of Uruk."
"Of course, just because he's good at guessing doesn't mean he can't be proven wrong," Nimue smiled.
"But he can't beat the udug on his own, huh?" Ritsuka observed. "That's a scary thought. With all those Noble Phantasms at his disposal, I thought fighting an army would be a good matchup for him."
"Mind you, King Gilgamesh is still alive," Rasputin said. "By definition, he does not have Noble Phantasms."
"Well -- you know what I mean," Ritsuka waved his hand. "His treasury, the Gate of Babylon. All the original weapons every other Noble Phantasm is based on."
"Yeah, with predecessors of weapons like Vasavi Shakti or Excalibur at his disposal, I was hoping this Singularity would be a cinch, when you said he was alive and leading Uruk."
Nimue shook her head. "I'm afraid there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. King Gilgamesh is extraordinarily powerful, being two-thirds divine in the Age of Gods, but the Heroic Spirit Gilgamesh is bound to be further strengthened by his worldwide fame, and the sheer depth of his history and mystery. Servants are also influenced by perception -- misconceptions and especially conceptualization can give them tools and traits they never actually had in real life. Karna was using Vasavi Shakti thousands of years ago, and Excalibur was forged in the heart of the Inner Sea of the World long before that. How could Gilgamesh possibly have prototypes of them? His treasury is vast, and does include a great many weapons, but I'm afraid this Gate of Babylon you're talking about is, well… simply put, a collection of fakes."
"So… the real Gilgamesh isn't as strong as we think?" said Mash.
Ritsuka pursed his lips. "Great."
"I didn't say that," Nimue said. "You'll just have to judge for yourselves how strong the King of Uruk really is."
Chapter 3: The Throne of Heaven
Summary:
The Chaldeans seek audience with King Gilgamesh.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Chaldeans passed into Uruk through one of its gated canals, wary guardsmen bowing respectfully to Nimue and Rasputin. It was a bustling city by any definition. Although the people of Mesopotamia had suffered an incredible amount of death in the past six months, refugees from all over the region had continued to flee toward the Persian Gulf, and Uruk was the largest, safest city left standing. Almost a million people had lived in these lands at the start of this conflict, and now most of the survivors sheltered here. Uruk was rife with living people of all kinds -- the walls surrounded by shepherds and covered with soldiers, the marketplace filled with shouting merchants of all kinds, priests and priestesses and healers and even gardeners tending to life throughout the city. And in the center of it all, the ziggurat of the king.
The King of Heroes was not like the one from Singularity X so long ago, decked head-to-toe in golden plate armor with a youthful, sneering face beneath slicked-back golden bangs. The King before him was barechested, exposing crimson tattoos of divinity over his chest and shoulders, with a skirt of spun wool not unlike any other citizen of Uruk, albeit the ankle-length cut of nobility and dyed a royal blue. On his head, above loose hair whose golden luster was dusted by the silver of age, sat a simple turban encircled by a crown of chalcedony ox horns, not unlike the crown Inanna had been wearing. The most extravagant items he wore were the tooth-like golden necklace on his chest, the mantle of gold leaf upon his shoulders, and bangles about his forearms decorated with cloisonne that matched his crown.
He was reclined in a tall, square throne of solid stone and inlaid lapis lazuli and Mother-of-Pearl, slouched to one side and stroking his beard as he listened to one of several advisors at the foot of the dais. But his red eyes lifted to take in the sight of his newest petitioners, and he silenced the advisors with a raise of his hand.
"King Gilgamesh," Rasputin opened his arms.
"Berserker," he greeted in kind, slowly. "Caster. Is this the Rogue Archer you spoke of?"
"That's right!" Nimue rocked on her heels. "Alexander, introduce yourself to the King of Uruk and, by extension, current de facto ruler of all Mesopotamia."
The Archer cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, bowing. "An honor to meet you, your Majesty. If you would have me, I would freely pledge my assistance to the people of Sumer. However… I would ask your leave to exit your city itself. I'm more comfortable in the rolling hills, and I need not remain close to Nimue, due to my Independent Action."
Gilgamesh stroked his beard, looking at Nimue, who shook her head.
"Nonsense," the King said with a slight smirk, "If you offer aid to my people, then you must stay. I extend to you the full hospitality and safety of Uruk."
Alexander pursed his lips, but nodded. "I… cannot refuse such hospitality. Thank you, my King."
"And, judging by their dress, these must be the stargazers," Gilgamesh said. Ritsuka felt the air cool under his gaze as it slid over them. "Very well."
The King stood, and a great axe appeared in his hand. "Prepare yourselves!"
"Shit -- Mash!"
"Ready!" she called as he drew the sword from her hip. From the moment they had entered the ziggurat, she had moved up from his side to in front of him. Ritsuka muttered the trigger for his uniform's Energy Conversion code-cast, breathing out as energy flowed through his arm into Mash. If this Gilgamesh was anything like the one they had fought before, she would need it.
Gilgamesh lunged across the room with the speed of a Servant, despite his apparent age, his tattoos lighting up with divine energy. His axe bit into Mash's shield with a resounding ring, but she held fast. Ritsuka raised his arm to strike with his sword, but suddenly the air around Gilgamesh shimmered and shone gold.
Ritsuka ducked back behind Mash as they retreated backward, laser-like spells hammering her shield and bouncing off to scorch pillars and tiles around the thone room.
"I thought you said he didn't have the Gate of Babylon!" Ritsuka yelled toward Nimue.
"I only said he didn't have Noble Phantasms," she shrugged.
Alexander beside her started forward, his hand going for his shortsword. "Nimue, let me aid them. I've sworn my help to them--"
"Your offer is the only thing I needed to see of you, Rogue Archer!" Gilgamesh bellowed. "Keep him leashed, Caster!"
"You heard him," she looked at him expectantly. "Heel, boy."
Gilgamesh leapt toward them again and hammered at Mash's defenses. Each time she was able to bring her shield back only just in time to deflect the next blow, keeping herself firmly in front of Ritsuka, just as he kept himself carefully behind her, at a distance that wouldn't trip her up.
"Wall!" he alerted Mash, as they were pushed toward a corner.
She gritted her teeth and spun her shield with the next blow, sweeping the edge back toward Gilgamesh's head -- but the King spryly ducked back, sweeping his broad axe upward and knocking her shield high, then stomping his foot into her chest. Mash careened backward into the tiled wall, leaving Ritsuka defenseless before the King of Heroes.
"Are you prepared to beg for mercy?" he asked.
"Hell no," Ritsuka bit out. His hands shook on the pommel of his sword, but still he forced himself to step inward and swing.
Gilgamesh caught the swing on his axe and brought both weapons to the ground, grabbing ahold of Ritsuka's wrists with one hand like iron manacles, and stepped in, the halo of golden portals lighting up around him again--
"Pitiful," Gilgamesh judged, already walking back to his throne, his axe held limply at his side. He ascended the steps as Ritsuka combated his pounding heart and Mash scrambled back to his side, and the King leaned his axe against the arm of his throne, dropping unceremoniously back into it, resting his weary head on his fist. "You are unworthy of my attention. Berserker, remove them."
He picked up a clay tablet from the meter-high stack of them next to him, and began to read. Just like that. Rasputin nodded stiffly and stepped toward them--
"Unworthy of your attention!?" Ritsuka shouted.
"Master--"
"I'm sorry, is the fate of the world too boring for you?" he continued, stomping toward the throne. "We can end this war of attrition -- the one that you're losing. If we retrieve the Grail King Solomon placed here--"
"A Grail will not solve your troubles, nor mine," Gilgamesh barked, producing a cup from one of his portals -- a Holy Grail, a condensed source of great magical energy.
"You have--?" Ritsuka gaped.
"Still -- I admit I find your recklessness amusing," Gilgamesh continued, dropping the cup back into another portal. "Raising a weapon against a clearly superior opponent is one thing, but berating the King on his own throne? You have gall."
"I have a job to do," Ritsuka clarified, balling his fist. "My life -- and everyone else's -- depends on it."
"And you think you are suited to the task?" Gilgamesh challenged. "I am aware of Chaldea, and your King Solomon -- but you are unnecessary. The people of Sumer will save themselves."
"And you'd turn down willing aid?" Ritsuka asked, taking a deep breath to gather himself. "We're all human beings, fighting for our survival as a species, our future. Let us help you -- in any way we can."
"All trades come with a price. Even Inanna herself, patron protector of Uruk, has refused to aid us until I submit to her. And no matter how vehemently Siduri urges, I will not beg to the gods -- mankind must steer their own fates."
"I thought you were supposed to be a good judge of character," Ritsuka accused.
"But I am not infallible," Gilgamesh admitted readily, leaning forward on his throne. "So prove to me that you can be trusted. That you can bear the weight of the burden you aspire to. You may remain in my city to help my people until such a time as I pass a final judgment on your value. Berserker -- take them to E-anna, with the others."
The priest approached them and gestured to the grand doorway through which they'd entered. With a final lingering look back at Gilgamesh's cold visage, Ritsuka sheathed his sword and turned away, exiting the ziggurat. He didn't bow. Not this time.
"I think that went pretty well," Nimue said.
"That was going well?" Alexander repeated.
"If he really thought they were untrustworthy or useless, he wouldn't have let them stay in the city. Probably not even alive."
"Gilgamesh already has a Grail…" Ritsuka chewed. "It can't be the same one Solomon sent, right?"
"No, this is just a little something given to him as a thank-you gift a long time ago -- from Inanna, ironically," Nimue said. "He used it to summon us. Solomon's Grail is still out there somewhere; probably what was used to summon the Triple Goddesses, and of course the Rogues like Alexander here."
"And Enkidu?" Mash asked. "Are they a Servant?"
"Fujimaru should have been able to tell, if they were," Rasputin reminded her. "The High Priestess of Inanna, Siduri, firmly believes this Enkidu must be some manner of impostor."
"Gilgamesh doesn't seem to care either way," Nimue said, "He's just concerned at how it's been affecting the morale around Uruk. It's not great, watching one of your heroes, and your King's best friend, come back from the dead and kill one of your generals."
"I should wonder what the King truly feels," Rasputin mused. "But your words were spoken wisely, Fujimaru; how do you plan to prove yourself?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "What can we do? Help you Servants fight?"
"We answer directly to King Gilgamesh for our duties; you could not accompany us."
"Okay, then… Uruk has to have plenty of other things that need doing. There are refugees here from all over, right? That means people are going to need food, shelter…"
"Oil and wine," Rasputin nodded.
Mash watched the city move around them in the evening light. Ritsuka wondered if she'd ever seen so many people all at once; Rome was a huge city, but Uruk was packed full and bustling. Her head turned to and fro, drinking it all in, her azalea hair marking her out even more than her Rayshift uniform in the crowd -- not to mention her height, a good few inches above Ritsuka and accordingly almost a full foot over many of the Sumerians milling around them. Ritsuka pushed closer in, taking her hand as they walked. She tossed her hair and pressed her lips together, avoiding eye contact, but her grip remained steady on his.
"What's E-anna?" she asked.
"The House of Heaven," answered Rasputin. "It is the primary temple of Uruk, dedicated to Inanna in all but name, and it functions as a house of healing and respite, including to Gilgamesh's remaining Servants."
"I thought Gilgamesh and Inanna were enemies."
"While they may often be at odds, the city of Uruk existed long before King Gilgamesh deposed Agga of Kish, and it has long been Inanna's most favored and most devoted city, despite Gilgamesh's best efforts. Even after their quarrel led to the city's ruin, the temple of E-anna was faithfully maintained."
Ritsuka saw what he meant in short order: the temple loomed before them, a structure second only in size to the royal ziggurat itself, and at least from the outside, exceeding it in ornation; the exterior walls were decorated in carved pillars and interspersed statues between them, one that Ritsuka guessed was Gilgamesh, more that looked similar but could possibly be past rulers, and a number that were almost certainly representative of Inanna. Inside was even more beautiful; mosaics of precious stone covered the walls depicting tableaus of myth Ritsuka recognized and many he didn't, lost to time. The canals that crisscrossed the entire city extended inside E-anna, forming picturesque rivulets and serene ponds that fed numerous trees and shrubs, fruiting and flowering and feeding singing birds.
"It is a beautiful dwelling, worthy of gods," praised Alexander. "Still, I must admit a bit of embarrassment. My experience with women is limited; to be housed in the house of the sacred prostitutes…"
"What a crude anachronism."
Ritsuka spun in surprise, Mash right along with him, shield at the ready at the half-familiar voice. Strangely, nobody else in the temple seemed at all surprised as Inanna herself descended through the open roof.
"My priestesses are free women, not prostitutes."
After some hesitation, seeing Inanna was apparently not here to fight despite her rivalry with Gilgamesh, Alexander bowed at the waist. "My apologies, great goddess. I meant no offense. Clearly, I know precious little of these lands."
Inanna nodded, satisfied. "Then count yourself lucky to be allowed within these walls of learning. Beletum? I shall be in my chamber if you need me."
With a quick word to one of the priestesses, Inanna dropped to her feet for the first time Ritsuka had seen and walked through the elaborate doors to the innermost chamber of the temple. They swung shut behind her, solid but silent, as if themselves deferential to the goddess.
"But I thought…"
Mash had the same thought. "Didn't Gilgamesh say Inanna refused to help Uruk?"
"The goddess has refused to save Uruk from the udug, or to partake in the battles at the North Wall, until Gilgamesh makes peace with her," Rasputin confirmed, "However, E-anna is still her home. Even Gilgamesh would not stop her from resting here... Perhaps especially not Gilgamesh."
"He wouldn't want to risk the headache," Nimue agreed with a giggle. "Besides, I doubt his bounded field would stop Inanna, even if he tried."
"The bounded field -- that's probably what redirected our Rayshift," Mash realized.
"I thought that would happen," said Nimue. "That's why I came out to find you and Alexander. The field has been instrumental in making sure that he's aware of any incursions into the safe area south of the Wall, and prevents any by magical means."
"I didn't know Gilgamesh was a mage," Ritsuka said.
"With his divine heritage, Gilgamesh is naturally gifted in magic, even if he's always preferred brute strength. Since learning of Solomon's plans, he's decided to style himself as a sorcerer-king to combat and mock the so-called King of Mages -- that's where his Bab-ilu portals come from: an imaginary storage space filled with magical staves he's crafted. It's very efficient, I applaud him for the creativity -- and necessary, at this juncture. Summoning and supporting seven Servants all on his own takes a lot, even for someone like him."
"Inanna doesn't seem to have much energy issue," Ritsuka observed. "Or Alexander, for that matter."
"Three reasons," Nimue held up three fingers, curling one down again. "First, in Alexander's case: Rogue Servants, summoned automatically by the Grail or Counter-Force, are granted a certain conditional modifier to their Saint Graph, essentially giving them a high level of Independent Action until they make a formal contract for the first time -- they still don't have enough energy to use a Noble Phantasm, and have to be careful about their engagements, but they can persist for a while -- like Alexander did, rummaging around out there in the Cedar Forest. Second, Inanna is a goddess, with a divine core; to an extent, she generates her own mana. And lastly--"
"Inanna is not a Rogue Servant, nor was she summoned by Gilgamesh," Rasputin finished. "Though we suspect she has stolen a card, so to speak, from King Solomon's hand, in this case. She was summoned by the priestesses of this temple, namely by High Priestess Siduri herself. She is Inanna's Master, and supplies her what mana she can."
"Sounds like she does a lot for Uruk," Ritsuka noted, remembering the name from Gilgamesh's mouth. "Do we get to meet her?"
"You just did," Rasputin smiled wanly. "Inanna is a Divine Spirit, not a Heroic one -- similar to a Wraith such as Rasputin, she requires a human host. In her case, the High Priestess shares her own body with her goddess."
That idea sat… uncomfortably with Ritsuka. Rasputin -- Kotomine -- had made it clear that their situation was a kind of partnership, that Rasputin gave Kotomine full control of his own body, and that Kotomine viewed it as a gift, a second chance. Although he'd never met Siduri before, as far as Ritsuka could guess, Inanna was in full control of Siduri's body; even if she had freely volunteered herself, the implicit power dynamic of the religious dimension felt questionable.
"Those are the markings you might have seen peeking out from under her arm sleeve," Nimue added. "Command Spells."
"She has her own Command Spells," Ritsuka repeated. "That's… incredibly useful."
"Not as much as you might think," Nimue corrected, bouncing on her toes, as if the simple act of teaching Ritsuka these things delighted her. "The Command Spell system was designed to be part of a bond of trust -- originally, in fact, it was meant primarily to be a restrictor on a Heroic Spirit's actions if and when they disagreed with the orders of their Master. When a Servant bears their own stigmata in special cases like this, they're often less flexible or powerful as a result."
"She's right, Master," Mash added. "I had my own Command Spells on my chest before becoming your Servant, but they were all but useless."
Ritsuka stopped himself from thinking too long about tracing out the curving lines of Command Spells below Mash's collar.
Nimue continued, "In other words, even Inanna would benefit from making a contract with a Master of her own, even if she doesn't strictly need it."
"I'm Ritsuka's Servant," Mash said preemptively.
Nimue giggled. "You're too cute…! Don't worry, Mash, I don't think anything is about to change that. But with Chaldea's reactors and the Grails you've gathered so far, Ritsuka should be able to support a few additional Servants, at least one per Grail. You know, just in case it becomes important later."
That was true enough, technically speaking: with seven Masters, each Grail could sustain seven Servants -- even without the Masters to some extent, as they'd found in the previous Singularities. And upon their return to Chaldea each time, the FATE summoning system had linked to their recovered Grail and summoned one Servant who had bonded with them during their adventure. Although with only two working Rayshift pods they couldn't accompany Ritsuka into the next Singularity, it was at least an excellent defensive system for Chaldea itself.
"In any case," Rasputin announced, "Allow me to introduce our fellow Servants: Archer of Uruk, Tomoe Gozen, and Lancer of Uruk, Hector of Troy."
"Hajimemashite, yoroshiku onegaishimasu," Tomoe bowed.
"Hajimemashite; issho ni ganbarimashou," Ritsuka returned.
"Oh." Hector just waved.
"I'm Alexander -- Archer," the Rogue Servant introduced himself. Hector shook his hand heartily.
"And the Chaldeans, I assume?" he asked.
"Yeah -- I'm Fujimaru Ritsuka," he said. To Hector, he added, "Uh, my English friends call me Reese, sometimes."
"Thanks for taking pity on an old man," Hector smiled, "But Ritsuka is fine."
"And this is Mash -- a Demiservant, housing the spirit of Sir Galahad."
"Wow," Hector brushed his hair back. "Sir Galahad? Even a -- Demiservant, you said? -- must be pretty impressive. Glad to have you."
"And the last Master of humanity is from my own homeland," Tomoe observed.
"Sort of," Ritsuka said. "I'm half-Japanese. I grew up in America, but I visited family in Japan often."
"I see; that explains your fiery hair, unless you have oni blood," Tomoe joked. "As well as your blue eyes."
"Ah -- yeah. Thanks," said Ritsuka awkwardly.
"There used to be more of us, but it's been a hard slog," Hector said. "The four of us here are the ones still standing."
"Who else?" Mash wondered.
"Well…" he scratched his head. "Our Saber was good old Leonidas I, King of Sparta. The Rider was Samu-no-Suke Akechi. We even had our own Shielder, Sir Brunor, so-called Knight of the Poor Coat."
"Another Shielder?" Mash perked up. "That's unfortunate… I would have liked to meet him. Ah -- I don't mean to undercut either of your accomplishments, either in your lifetime or in your conflicts here. You yourself, Hector, were reputed as an expert in defensive combat, equal even to Achilles in combat."
"Heh, I'm not sure I'd say that, exactly," Hector grimaced. "But if there's anything I can teach you in Brunor's stead, I will. He wasn't much of a talker anyway, to be honest."
"I'd greatly appreciate that; thank you."
"But for now, we must eat and rest," Tomoe said, waving the group deeper into the temple. "Much work remains to be done tomorrow and all the days after."
"You eat? And sleep?" Ritsuka asked.
"Yes. As part of our summoning, we are incarnated -- we cannot take spirit form, and require some amount of caloric intake and sleep cycles. It takes some small strain off of Gilgamesh-sama, who already paid a steep price to summon us in the first place."
"We do almost the same thing in Chaldea, actually," Ritsuka said. "Each Grail we recover from a Singularity is a power source, and we use it to summon a Servant -- but it's also valuable to keep Chaldea and its bounded field actually running and, you know, existing in the Incineration. So we do what we can to limit Servant energy expenditure."
"Don't worry; priestesses usually prepare dinner for us, and tomorrow morning I will be preparing breakfast before I leave on my next mission," Tomoe said. "You will avoid having to suffer Lancer or Berserker's cooking… for now."
"I told you I was never much of a chef," Hector said with chagrin.
"You could at least try more than serving up hard tack," Nimue accused.
"I rather like my cooking," Rasputin said.
"Yeah," Hector said jovially, patting him on the back, "I think that's actually part of the problem…"
Tomoe led them all into the common hall, where one table had already been filled with food -- verdant greens and vegetables, a great pot of stew, nearly a whole sheep glazed and roasted, freshly-baked breads and bowls of fruits and nuts. After so long making due with Chaldea's reserves and whatever they could forage and prepare from Singularities, it was the best thing Ritsuka had seen in a long time.
"Where is your mission taking you, if we are allowed to ask?" said Mash, when she had carefully arranged a plate for herself, like a little pie chart of the recommended daily diet.
"Back to Nippur," Tomoe answered.
"Nippur?" Ritsuka repeated. "That's a major city in Mesopotamia, isn't it? But didn't Nimue say it's on the other side of the wall?"
"It is," the onna-bushi confirmed, "But not yet fallen. Nippur is a strong city, and has held out as the front line of this conflict long enough for the North Wall to be built in the first place, to provide safety for the south. Rescue operations and ongoing sieges at Nippur have been the bulk of the fighting for this past half-year. All the citizens north of the wall have either sought refuge in Nippur, and from there come to Uruk, or they put themselves solely in the hands of their gods."
"They don't blame Inanna, for refusing to help Uruk?" Rituska asked.
Tomoe chewed a bite of fruit, considering. "Her behavior would not be out of place in my time, were she a daimyo. I do not agree with her actions; but to disrespect her, as Gilgamesh-sama and Enkidu-dono did, even if they did so with reason, is to make an enemy of her."
"Reason is a matter of perspective, I think," Roman interjected gently. "It's worth noting that the stories of the events that led to Enkidu's death are somewhat contradictory -- written by different cultures in different times, with some slightly different ideas of who Inanna was, or should have been."
"The accounts and opinions I have heard here of Inanna-sama and Gilgamesh-sama's conflict have been just as divided," Tomoe said. "I believe that if Inanna-sama asked a favor of the heart or flesh of Gilgamesh-sama, then that business is theirs alone. It should never have entailed his punishment, her humiliation, or certainly not Enkidu-dono's death -- it should have been a simple matter of yes or no."
"That's very… enlightened," Roman said. "Sorry, that sounded bad. I only meant that seems like an unusually modern way of seeing it for a woman from the Genpei War. Ah, that didn't sound much better…"
"I understand," Tomoe smiled. "Perhaps my perspective is colored a bit from my unusual role as a soldier -- and it is certainly shaped by my personal experience with Yoshinaka-sama."
"Right," Ritsuka nodded, "Your husband, and general. That's unusual, too. It was actually one of my favorite stories in Japanese history."
"You honor us both," Tomoe said. "We loved each other. That is all. I could not allow him to fight without me. And even at the end, he…"
Ritsuka frowned as she lapsed into silence. "He sent you away… that's what the tales say."
Tomoe nodded. "Yoritomo and Yoshitsune would not stop without Yoshinaka-sama's head, but they would not have sought me out in the aftermath, even as infamous as I was. He wished for me to live -- to rescue our son, perhaps, hostage in Kyoto. But I failed."
"I'm so sorry," Roman said.
Tomoe just shook her head. "Many died in those days who should not have. Families turned on each other over pride and ambition all too easily. Our own cousins sentenced us to death, before turning on each other. It is why I feel for Gilgamesh-sama's plight as this… false Enkidu troubles him."
"What do you know about them?" Mash asked.
"A terrifying creature. Perhaps not Enkidu proper, but if they are not just as powerful, then I shudder to imagine what the original Enkidu could do. Their first appearance was months ago, after we first broke the siege at Nippur. It cost us many lives, including that of Lord Samu-no-Suke, to slay Ibuki-douji. But we were holding the city again, so some citizens decided to stay and fight while others evacuated. Kingu attacked at dusk, like a stroke of living lightning. They overwhelmed the soldiers of Nippur singlehandedly, and even when we struck as a team we could not gain the upper hand. Leonidas held Kingu there as the rest of us retreated back to safety, to regroup, but Kingu seemed satisfied with but one kill, and they departed again as more udug arrived, and the siege began anew. It has been an intense war for its relatively short duration -- our fighting force of almost thirty-thousand has dwindled to less than half that."
"We knew Leonidas from the Fifth Singularity, in Rome," Ritsuka said. "He was a great man -- a great soldier and general. He taught us both a lot."
"What are the udug, anyway?" Ritsuka asked. "Do we know where they're coming from?"
"From the Cedar Forest," Nimue answered. "North of Kish. We just can't get at the source to stop them -- or tell what it is. That's why Brunor isn't with us anymore."
"Sir Brunor attempted to spearhead an assault on the enemy," Tomoe said, "But sadly, they were too powerful entrenched in their home territory."
"As for the udug themselves…" Nimue continued, "They're the Eleven Offspring of Tiamat. At least, that's what the people of Sumer have been calling them, and they do bear similarities to the descriptions, but obviously they aren't the originals. They're some kind of mass-produced, generic versions."
Ritsuka grimaced. "Does that mean Tiamat herself is part of the Triple Goddess Alliance?"
"I know it's rich when you've been talking to a faerie, a wraith, and a goddess, but Tiamat really shouldn't be summonable as a Servant. Inanna is one thing -- she's always been tied more closely to humanity than other gods -- but Tiamat is something else entirely. She fell almost before humanity even existed, and her nature is almost completely alien to you. First and foremost, the concept of death doesn't even exist to her, so by definition it wouldn't be possible for her to be summoned as any kind of ghost liner."
Ritsuka shook his head. "I don't think I like the Age of Gods. And not just because I can't breathe. Things are weird here."
"Sounds like a healthy contentedness with your own lot to me," Alexander said.
"Aw, but just being content is no fun," Nimue smirked.
Mash turned back to Tomoe. "So you're being sent back to Nippur?"
"Yes, to lay the groundwork for a final operation," Tomoe said. "Caster and Berserker have other duties to see to around Uruk, and Lancer is still currently training a regiment of reinforcements meant for Nippur. Deciding how to split our Servant forces since the false Enkidu's arrival has been difficult; even with the King's bounded field protecting and observing the whole of the south, it is a simple matter for Enkidu to cross the boundary, take to the skies again, and arrive anywhere from Nippur to Uruk in minutes."
"That's incredible speed!" Roman said. "That's got to be at least supersonic."
Ritsuka lapsed into silence as Roman and da Vinci took over the conversation, talking more about logistics and gathering information on the state of the war. Ritsuka tried to pay attention, but his focus drifted a little around the food, the atmosphere. Hector was good-naturedly ribbing Alexander, piling his plate with more meat, pushing more milk and wine into his hands. Nimue was leaned over Mash's shoulder, giggling about who-knew-what.
Roman had done as good a job as possible raising Mash as her surrogate father figure from the age of 10 -- better than most, certainly, considering she had spent her entire life within the walls of Chaldea, and up until that point, confined to just three rooms. Roman was quick to say that Ritsuka was doing an even better job at bringing Mash out of her shell and acclimating her to social interactions, but… it would do Mash good to have a friend like Nimue, even if she was an ancient trickster-sorceress. Probably. It almost felt like a home, in E-anna at night.
When he was finished eating, Ritsuka excused himself -- there was one other person he wanted desperately to speak to before he slept, if he could manage it.
He wandered through the halls of the temple, trying not to disturb the priestesses at night, until he found the doors to the innermost chamber -- Inanna's sanctum. He knocked, waited patiently and then, when there was no reply, pushed against the tiled door. It gave way, sliding open easily for him, and just as easily the doors closed shut behind him.
"How bold of you, intruding upon a goddess' private chambers without her permission," Inanna teased.
"King Gilgamesh complimented my boldness -- or my recklessness," Ritsuka corrected. "I thought you might appreciate the same thing."
"It's good you have a sense of humor," the goddess said. She was reclined on a huge, wide-seated throne carved from wood, resplendent with silks and cushions, her crown resting on the ground before the throne, her fingertips alighting absently over the curve of the bull's horns adorning it.
Unlike the other women of Uruk, Inanna's skirt was short, like the soldiers', but rising even higher than theirs, no doubt purposely exposing much of her long legs. Rather than a priestess' robe, a woman's dress, or even a common sash, she wore a simple wrap about her breast, not terribly dissimilar from the one Ritsuka wore beneath his mystic code. All the goddess' -- relatively scant -- clothing was finely-woven fleece dyed carnelian red; her belt, armbands, rings, and anklets solid gold, inlaid with pearls and beads of lapis lazuli.
"You wished an audience?" she asked.
"I did -- my lady," Ritsuka added.
"I am not your god, watcher of the future," Inanna said. "You don’t have to worry about appeasing me in formalities -- though heartfelt praise will get you everywhere. Sit. Ask your questions."
Ritsuka moved forward as she gestured, lowering himself onto a cushion upon the lush blankets over the floor. "I wanted to know…" He chewed his lip. "Gilgamesh said you refuse to help him. But… you're here. You answered the High Priestess' summons. But Nimue said Gilgamesh has spurned the gods, and they want to leave humanity to their fates. Why?"
Inanna inclined her head, resting upon her hand in much the same way as Gilgamesh earlier that day. Her bare toes bounced leisurely to some beat only the goddess was privy to. "The gods are indeed uninterested in saving humanity. Not all of them, mind you, but most of them. It's not the first time, to be honest. But in addition, the King of Mages used his Ten Rings to forbid the gods from manifesting on Earth when he planted his Grail here."
Ritsuka nodded. "The common translation is demons, but the original text was probably meant for the Ten Rings of Solomon to refer to control over any pagan forces outside of -- inferior to -- God."
"Call me inferior at your own risk," Inanna warned playfully. "But yes -- his power seems to extend to us as well. How, exactly, is a mystery, and infuriating, considering that we're still thousands of years before he even invents magecraft. I was only able to bend the rules of the gods and Solomon alike by answering Siduri's summons to manifest as a Servant."
"Yeah… I wanted to ask about that, too. You're not the first Psuedoservant we've run into -- we met Rasputin in previous Singularities, but it's Kotomine, the host, who's in charge. Rasputin has decided to only lend his power to him for their shared purpose. But… you…"
"I am in charge, yes: Inanna-Quradu, the Evening Star."
"And Siduri?" Ritsuka asked. "I mean… it's clear she performed the summoning ritual; that she, to some extent, agreed to your fusion. But how much agency does she really have in this?"
"Although Siduri has been my faithful High Priestess for years, and so it should be obvious…" she began, tossing her hair and adjusting herself in her throne, leaning forward. "A bond such as this can only be formed between two similar and consenting souls, and Siduri willingly gives me complete control. True… she could not stop me now, unless I purposely gave control back to her. I can only give you my word that I would never disgrace Siduri's honor or the faith she has placed in me, her goddess. Is that enough for you?"
Ritsuka bit his lip, but nodded. "It has to be, doesn't it? No -- I choose to trust you, Inanna. These people put their faith in you. You didn't have to answer their summons -- their prayers."
"No," Inanna smiled, leaning back again and recrossing her legs. "I didn't. You're a wiser creature than you look, Fujimaru Ritsuka. I'll ask you something, now."
"Sure. Go ahead."
"Goddesses don't need permission," she said, tilting her head, still smiling. "Why are you here? I don’t mean here in Uruk, or in this Singularity, I mean -- why are you in Chaldea?"
"Believe it or not, I answered an ad," Ritsuka chuckled. "I mean -- it was more complicated after that: interviews, background checks… but it started with an ad at a train station."
"No…" Inanna said, "I said: why did you answer?"
Ritsuka chewed his lip. "I mean… Why wouldn't I? I thought it was like, an activist group when I called the number. I was wrong, obviously, but the bottom line was still accurate enough: Chaldea's role was to try and save the world."
"And you don’t find that suspicious?" the goddess posed.
"I've thought about it..." Ritsuka admitted. "It did seem really convenient that Rayshifting gives us the exact right way to counteract Solomon's plan, but -- it's actually not that weird, when it comes to magecraft. The Animuspheres -- that's, the family that owns Chaldea -- they've always been focused on prediction and prevention, and they've got close ties with the Atlas Academy. That's… another organization, full of people who spend basically all their time predicting and then trying to prevent obscure apocalypses. A lot of them go crazy about it, apparently."
"Chalk it up to fate, then," Inanna winked. "So you got your chance to save the world. Is it everything you wished for?"
Ritsuka shrugged uncomfortably. "The most I really wanted was to… I don't know. Building low-income housing, food drives. Election pamphlets, maybe. This is… a lot. But I'm here. I don't really like thinking of it like an opportunity, because… a lot of people died for me to be standing here instead of them. But that's why I'm not going to whine about it, either."
"And if this chance had never come, and you spent the rest of your days running drills and never seeing a threat to defend the world from. Would you like that?"
He hadn't thought about that before. "I guess… Things might be a little boring. But… we'd still be ready to protect the world, from a bunch of… absolute, nonsense bullshit that most people have no idea is even possible, and the few that do? Don't care. So… I think it would still be nice to be… just a little part of just in case."
"So you do want to be a hero," Inanna said. "Good. I'm a goddess of victory and blessings, but I don't hand either out for free. If you want to help my people here, you have to want it. Having no other option doesn't cut it."
Ritsuka set his jaw. "I signed up because I wanted to make a shitty world just a little better. I'll still fight for that -- have been fighting for it, through six Singularities and counting."
"Of course," she said amicably. "Perhaps, at this moment, for this purpose, you are exactly as you were meant to be."
As he was meant to be. The words had an unexpected effect on Ritsuka. She couldn't have known, but the goddess seemed adept at that in general, stunning in a very literal way, and more insightful than her attitude would give away.
"And I expect you to prove it," she added, "To succeed here."
Or die trying, she didn't say. But he knew.
"Now go," she bid. "You must rest, as must Siduri. And I expect you'll have more questions for me tomorrow night."
Even if it was a divine trick clouding his head as he left at the goddess' whim, Ritsuka laughed a little to himself. He'd take the little pieces of comfort and confidence he was afforded.
They could do this. The future wasn't lost yet.
Notes:
The name "Beletum" as Siduri's assistant has been taken from, and is a nod to, megkips' excellent fics.
Chapter 4: The Golden City
Summary:
The Chaldeans earn their keep in Uruk.
Chapter Text
Ritsuka examined himself in the mirror. It was a habit -- sometimes a bad one. He probably should have, was supposed to, had countless times before, slept in at least his Rayshift undersuit just in case of emergency; it had all forms of heat and moisture controls and recycling circuitry, magical and technological, laced throughout its deceptively thin rubber-looking exterior. It had shock absorption systems and inflatable padding for protection as well as comfort. But for all that, for once in the safety of a bed, in a guarded temple surrounded by Servants, within a city far from the front lines and kept by high walls, it was a luxury to feel he was able to strip out of it for once. It was an unexpected luxury, too, to have a mirror of polished silver in his room.
I've collected a lot of scars in the past year, haven't I?
There was the half-circle of puckered puncture marks around his elbow, a bite from a wyvern in Orleans. There was still a numb spot on his side, slight bumps in the bone, where they had been broken against a mainmast by Achilles in Okeanos. There was the forked Lichtenburg scar down his back, from Nikola Tesla in America. There was the jagged shrapnel scar on his thigh, a memento from Camelot; which battle, he couldn't even be sure.
And there were, of course, the burn scars on his hands from the day this had all started -- when he had tried in vain to lift the superheated rubble off of Mash, crushed in the explosion in the coffin room of Chaldea, Lev's sabotage.
By all rights, any one of those injuries should have been fatal. He was lucky.
Ritsuka rewrapped his chest and slipped back into his Rayshift uniform, something of a comforting process; the layers obscured his figure, in addition to providing valuable protection. The base layer was the Chaldea standard-issue Rayshift suit, the circuitry- and enchantment-laden bodyglove of what looked like rubber or latex, but over the course of the past year and a half, as they charged into Singularity after Singularity, da Vinci had been hard at work adding to Ritsuka's uniform, including a black double-breasted jacket with additional defensive enchantments, boots for simple comfort and utility, combat webbing and harnesses with plenty of softcases, and now the orange shamagh that acted as his rebreather, filtering out the mana in the air of the Age of Gods that was so thick as to be toxic to a modern human like him. Ritsuka was already highly resistant to actual poisons, diseases and curses, thanks to his connection to Mash and Galahad's protections, but the "grain" -- as da Vinci called it -- wasn't technically a poison or a curse, his body simply couldn't handle the exposure, like he was salt under the erosion of a riverbed. The river didn't mean anything by it, he just wasn't granite. Luckily, that function still functioned constantly within a distance of thirty feet or so. The mystic code would have to be destroyed for it to stop working entirely, and it was pretty hardy, despite its appearance.
Mash was already waiting for him at the entrance of the temple, in her own Rayshift uniform. While Ritsuka's had been modified and added to over time, Mash's was still only the basic bodyglove, other layers unnecessary with her Demiservant abilities and her spiritron plate armor. Since she had dismissed her plates for now, she instead wore a mid-length skirt of spun wool -- a kaunake, the same as the priests and priestesses wore -- over her suit. She made it look good.
"Hey," he said.
She brushed her hair aside as she turned to look at him, raising her hand in an awkward little wave. "Good morning, Master."
Nimue offered another little smile and wave from outside, but got right to the point as they joined her. "We have some options for how you want to start helping the citizens of Uruk."
"Sheep-herding is a large part of Uruk's economy," Alexander said. "I think I have more experience with sheep than with people, so I'm going to spend the morning in the hills, helping them sheer."
"And many people in Uruk have fallen ill since the Triple Goddess Alliance arrived. I spend most of my time treating the sick, unless Gilgamesh sends for me," Nimue said.
"Hector will also be running drills with the soldiers this evening, as he usually does," Rasputin added. "I presumed you might be interested to join."
"Yeah," Ritsuka agreed, "I've had some great teachers already, but I'm still just a novice with a sword. I'd love to learn more from Hector of Troy."
"Me, too," Mash said.
"What are you going to do before then, Mash?" he asked.
"I… I want to see the sheep."
"What?"
"I said I'm going with Alexander," Mash repeated, louder.
Cute. Absolutely adorable. Just smack me dead now.
"And you?" Rasputin prompted.
Ritsuka cleared his throat. "I don't know. I want to take a better look around the city, first."
The priest smiled. "An excellent idea."
Mash sat back heavily, panting. Hector stood a few meters back from her, scratching at his chin, chewing on a fresh reed. The soldiers watching the sparring match cheered for their general.
"Pretty good," he said. "A big shield like that's clunky, and a defensive tool in the first place, but you've made it work pretty well."
Mash nodded. "A lot of the time… my instincts -- or, Sir Galahad's -- take over. But at other times, I find myself fumbling. Leonidas gave me a lot of help back in Rome, but I'm always looking for ways to improve. Do you have any suggestions?"
"Hmm. Well, we did fight with shields in my time. It was a real important part of warfare, the phalanx: each soldier protecting himself and the one next to him with his shield. Even Spartan shields weren't quite as big as yours, but you've also got plate armor, way more impressive than anything we had -- except Achilles, maybe, at the very end. That means, you don't actually need your shield a lot of the time, not for yourself, anyway. So you can be more aggressive with it. I can spitball a few things with you, some stuff I saw Achilles do. I'm a more basic fighter, myself."
"That may be accurate in terms of style, but you're extremely proficient," Mash argued.
Hector shrugged, leaning on his sword like it was an unimportant cane and not Durendal, an incredibly famous artifact. "Well, that's what mastering the basics gets you. Stability, reliability, efficiency. I didn't say it was bad, just… not all that flashy. It's nothing to get excited about."
"I disagree. In five bouts, you've won all of them, despite many of my parameters being higher than yours, and the advantage of my armor."
"Experience," Hector shrugged again. "Come on, I'll show you. When you're working on pure instinct and learning on the fly, some of the fundamentals can slip past you. Show me your stance. Okay, that's pretty good, but you're working with a lot of weight, especially throwing that shield around -- you want a little wider, a little lower. There. And lean forward a bit -- keeps you ready to take a strong hit, or to push off. Now I'm gonna push you, make you stumble. Good -- get back into it right away. This Mumei guy teach you that? That's important. From your basic stance, you're ready to get back into anything else, so you always want to recover back to here as quick as possible."
Hector continued to show her how to hold herself and move, going through it slowly, focusing on precision and stability. Mash had learned so much from the other Servants at Chaldea: Mumei had taught her how to plan and anticipate, Cu Chulainn had taught her the value of instinct and aggression, Kay had shown her how to use her plate armor as its own weapon… but none of them were Shielders, and any normal man who made Achilles fight for his life could certainly teach Mash a thing or two.
Achilles came up more often than she thought. When they moved on to how to utilize her shield to maximize her armor, Hector often used him as a point of reference.
"Well… he didn't fight like anyone else," he shrugged. "I'm not going to lie and say I was better, or even almost as good as him. He beat me good, even with his special speed and blessings all taken away. Like I said, I'm a very basic, technical fighter. Combat's a game of moves and countermoves to me, a formula. To him, it was like… a dance. It's a game of trying to break up your opponent's thoughts and movements, so combat tends to be really rough, non-rhythmic, but Achilles took total control of that flow. He'd lull you into the tune he wanted, then change it completely. He switched stances, tossed his weapons in the air, blocked with his shinguards… Crazy bastard."
"We fought him, in the Third Singularity," Mash said. "Berserker Achilles. Well… it might be more accurate to say we ran from him."
Hector whistled, shaking his head. "Damn glad I wasn't there for that. He was a crazy bastard, but he had some tricks you might be able to use… but not right now. You're tired. Come on up to the top of the walls with me, we'll have something to eat before your friend joins us."
Mash followed him up, as did Alexander, who had demurred from training with Hector directly, but had agreed to the Trojan hero's request that he give archery pointers to the soldiers while he worked with Mash. They sat atop the northern wall of Uruk, next to a huge, cannon-like contraption, while Hector unwrapped a platter of snacks he had prepared.
"What is that?" Mash asked.
"Dolma," Hector said. "Well, I mean -- something like. Stuffed vegetables and leaf-wrapped stuffs, anyway. I'm not that bad a cook, promise."
"No, I mean -- that."
"Oh, yeah," Hector tapped his own forehead. "That's one of the reasons I brought you up here. You should be familiar with the city defenses. Gil calls them his Melammu."
Mash frowned. "Sumerian for… divine radiance?"
"More or less," Hector nodded. "Gods have melammu, right? An aura, a splendor, a crown. Uruk has these, now, crowning her outer wall."
"What do they do?"
"What do they look like? They're cannons. They melt down raw material and fire them as magical energy lances, like wicked ballistae."
"What kind of materials?"
"The contents of the King's treasury," Hector said with a wink. "Gold, gems, legendary weapons... whatever it takes."
"Really?" Mash asked again. "Based on how the Gilgamesh from Fuyuki acted… I would never have thought he would do that."
"Old Gil knows what sacrifice is, and he's not afraid to make it. Hell, he's been sacrificing all his free time and I think most of his sleep for the past six months, despite how it's obviously slowing his recovery from summoning us in the first place. The Melammu are a last resort, but they're here if we need them… when the North Wall falls."
"Not if?" Alexander repeated.
"Nope, when," Hector confirmed. "Gil's clairvoyance hasn't changed much so far, even with all his preparation. He still sees the end of Mesopotamia, the extinction of the human race. And I of all people know a doomed siege when I see one."
"You don't seem upset by that," Alexander said.
"What would that change?" he asked. "Besides -- like I said, I've been through it all before. And, this time my wife's not here nagging me."
He shot them a careless smile, but Mash thought she could see affection still in his eyes -- affection and regret, covered well. Mash had limited experience in the number of humans she interacted with, and wouldn't consider herself a very good judge of emotions, but sometimes, Roman wore a similar look, like he blamed himself for something the others didn't even know about.
"And it damn well doesn't mean we're going to stop fighting," Hector continued. "Does that make you afraid, Alexander?"
The Lancer looked up at the Archer. Hector still seemed relaxed, casual, almost lazy about almost everything he did, but Mash could see the glint of intent in his eyes as he challenged the other Servant.
"Yes," Alexander finally said. "Terrified. I'm far from the hero you are."
"And you, Mash? Are you afraid?"
"No," she said. "I know what it means to fight -- and to exist in the world of magi. Especially for myself: not a magus, but a purpose-grown human raised for combat. It's pain, and eventually death."
"Really? Sounds rough," Hector nodded, his face speaking of only the mildest surprise. "Me? I'm terrified, too."
Mash stuttered. "R-really?"
"Oh, yeah. You think I fought so well against Achilles because I didn't care if I died? I like living, thanks. I'd much rather just stay at home, living. Well… that used to be the case, anyway."
He lapsed into silence for a second, chewing on a dolma, and Alexander lowered his head. "Yes… you had a family in Troy."
"Of course I did," Hector said quietly. "Everybody did. Most every Greek attacking us had family over the sea, too. That's what's really terrifying."
"What… do you mean?" Mash asked.
"You tell me," he said. "That's what you're really afraid of, aren't you? Combat is pain, yeah. Death. Lots of it. But it's also sacrifice. That's usually one of the first words people think of. But you didn't mention it."
Mash lowered her head in shame. "Yes, you're correct… I feel like… I've only just gotten things I could lose."
Hector bobbed his head lightly. "Scary, isn't it?"
"... Yes. Sometimes I almost feel I was better off before meeting Ritsuka, or Roman."
"You're wrong. And that's why the fear of death doesn't matter so much," Hector said. "That's why we fight to the bitter end, even terrified as we are. Because if we don't… we're just giving up on those things we love having most. That fear isn't a weakness; it's what drives us forward when we couldn't do it on our own. I've seen a man with nothing left to lose -- nothing left inside him but wrath, and skill in war. A soldier with nothing to lose isn't a hero, Mash, it's a monster."
"It's… good to be afraid?"
"Hell yeah it is," he said. "Means you're human. You're alive. You've got something worth being alive for."
Mash had never thought of it like that, but her chest felt lighter for it. She had been meant to function as a tool in Team A's arsenal so long… even with Roman all but taking the place of a father in her life, teaching her to read, showing her movies, making her experience a little of what it would be like to have a life outside of Chaldea… Some part of her still felt that this feeling in her stomach she had been developing ever since she met Ritsuka was a weakness, a failing in her duty.
Could it be a strength? It felt like it, when he was side by side with her.
They were silent for a little while. Maybe Mash's thoughts weren't quite as hidden and internal as she suspected, because in time, Alexander said, "The relationship you have with your Master… it's not quite like anything I'm familiar with."
"O-oh?" she swallowed a bit of dolma she hadn't quite chewed enough.
Roman interrupted on her behalf. "Well, they have a traditional Master-Servant bond, like you would find in a normal Holy Grail War. It's not the same as Gilgamesh summoning seven Servants and entrusting them to do their own duties while he runs the city."
She never quite forgot that Roman or da Vinci or both was always listening to them through her throat mic -- it was simply that she had been acclimated to not mind it. It was just a fact that her missions would always be constantly monitored, for their own safety. Still, Roman tried to respect her privacy, apparently including butting in so she didn't have to discuss her feelings about Ritsuka. For once, Mash found herself grateful for the interruption.
"Nor is it like what I now have with Nimue," Alexander said. "She can be harsh and cold at times, but she is also usually right, as much as it may pain me to admit. I agreed to her contract because… it's my duty as a Servant to address the Triple Goddess Alliance."
"You're exaggerating," Hector raised an eyebrow. "There must have been someone in your life who trusted you, like they do each other. Even if you didn't know it, even if you didn't believe it, I'm sure there was. And you know, the Triple Goddess Alliance isn't your fault. It's not your sole responsibility. We're in this together."
The younger Servant pursed his lips. "Maybe."
"Definitely. Take it from me, kid."
Ritsuka sat patiently after dinner that night, his back and head resting against the ornate doors of the inner temple. After spending some time familiarizing himself with the city, he'd decided to simply help the first person he saw who looked like they could use it which had started by helping load up a cart and, long story short, eventually led him and Rasputin to tracking down a smuggling ring that turned out to be a cult worshiping Baal -- who it turned out was only a rain and agriculture deity? -- and kidnapping local dogs. He still didn't quite know what the dogs were for. Ritsuka was sore and tired, but the dogs were worth it.
"Begging for scraps?" Inanna teased, landing on one foot in front of him.
"Bark, bark," Ritsuka said dully. When she didn't seem to know exactly how to take the joke, he shook his head. "Nevermind. That made sense in my head, after today. I'm a little tired."
"Long first day in Uruk? Well, why don't you come in. You can ask me more of those questions I so graciously gave you time to think up. You'll have to get up so I can open the doors first, though."
Ritsuka pulled himself to his feet with a minimum of groaning, and Inanna invited him once again into her sanctum. She pulled her horned crown from her head and tossed it unceremoniously into a pile of cushions against one wall, throwing her head back and tussling her long, inky-black hair.
"I should have a chair brought in for you," Inanna said, dropping into the luxury of her throne, stretching like a cat, twisting her waist, pushing out her chest, pointing with her toes, and finally nestling her head into a soft spot. "… if you're going to make this a regular audience."
"I have a lot of questions," Ritsuka shrugged in what he hoped was a friendly, joking fashion. "You just seem like the perfect person to answer them. As long as you don't mind."
"Not as long as I like the sound of the questions."
"I'll save my unlikeable ones for when we get our audience with Gilgamesh."
Inanna grinned. "Now that's a sound I certainly like."
"I don't need a chair, though. There are so many cushions and blankets in here, your floor is more comfortable than my bed."
"That is one of the intended uses… So. Questions, stargazer?"
"Lots. But… okay, first, I heard something today. Nimue said she was tending to the sick, but I assumed it was normal… I don't know, Sumerian summer fever or whatever, until I overheard some of your priestesses talking about a spreading disease."
"Do you wish to join the healers?"
"I'm just a little suspicious," Ritsuka said. "The timing of a virulent disease spreading through Mesopotamia just now is a bit of a coincidence, isn't it? And if Nimue, one of the Ladies of the Lake, actually has trouble curing it…"
"Not a coincidence at all," Inanna agreed, reaching over her head to stretch her arms. "And not a disease, either. More correctly, a curse, although we've been calling it a disease for a reason. Hmm… Did Nimue teach you about the underworld?"
Ritsuka shook his head.
"We call it Irkalla or Kur -- the Darkness, or simply the Earth. This is the Age of Gods, and the underworld is a very real place, right beneath our feet. Well… actually, a good way north of here. It's where souls are taken by the gods -- not really the same thing as death. What you think of as death would be what we call Abzu, the Abyss, beyond Irkalla. The difference usually doesn't matter, but someone with control of the intact soul could use it to affect the body with magic, if it was still intact."
"You mean, like… Ghosts? Zombies?" Ritsuka blinked. "I mean… Dead Apostles? Whatever. Undead."
Inanna nodded. "Usually, that would be taboo even for the gods… except if they were really pissed off. Impossible for most of them, too. But the ruler of Irkalla is Nergal-Guanungia -- the Unstoppable Bull, the king of death and disease."
"The priestess said you lost an entire city," Ritsuka said. "Are you saying we have to worry about an undead army?"
"Nope," Inanna said. She reached to a side table, where a bowl of fresh ripe fruit had been placed for her. Every piece of fruit was exemplary, bright and shiny. Inanna clawed one from the top of the pile with an outstretched finger, unwilling to move an extra inch or two, and brought the fruit to her lips. Between bites, she said, "I already took care of Girsu."
"You--? Sorry?"
"I said, don't worry about Nergal's undead army. I already took care of it, and I'm keeping an eye on things. What, you didn't think I was just going for joyrides, did you? At least not all day."
"Well… Gilgamesh said you'd been refusing to help Uruk."
"I refuse to help Gilgamesh," Inanna corrected. "I'm not about to carry his war at the North Wall, or start taking care of his goddess problem, until he makes amends. But there are plenty of people who aren't protected by his walls and his soldiers; farmers, hermits, stubborn denizens of tiny villages he probably doesn't know exist. They still pray to me to protect them, and so I do."
Ritsuka smiled. "Wow. You're nicer than you let on."
"And exactly what have I done so far that hasn't been generous and kind?" Inanna challenged.
"Point taken -- you did save my life. Thanks, again, for that."
The goddess shrugged. Took another noisy bite from her fruit. Recrossed her legs. "Throw me a prayer tonight. Maybe leave an offering. I'm partial to precious gems."
He laughed softly at her, acting so flippant. The worst part was, he didn't even think she was kidding.
"Well, that sort of renders my second topic moot," Ritsuka said. "I was going to try and convince you that you should help."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," she reminded him. "You can't even breathe my air without that magic scarf of yours. Don't think just because I've decided I like you, you can make demands of me. I've decided to answer your questions out of the goodness of my heart -- because if you live through all this, I want my beautiful Sumer to be your most precious memory."
Ritsuka splayed his hands. "Like I said, apparently I don't need to demand anything. You're already helping."
"Of course I am," she flipped her hair back over her shoulder proudly.
"And I'm sure Gilgamesh knows it, doesn't he?"
The goddess grinned back at him. "That's it's own compensation… for now."
"Troublesome kings… we've had to deal with a few of them before," Ritsuka said aloud. "Though… some were actually queens, as it turned out. Well… empresses. But… we're dealing with the Triple Goddess Alliance, right? So Nergal can't be part of that, can he."
Her expression fell. "... No."
"So, that's one more enemy, then, isn't it. Two remaining goddesses, and Nergal. Is he a Servant, or--?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter," Inanna said curtly. "Whether he is or isn't, above the Earth is my domain. Maybe a foreign god might be trouble, but the delineation of power among the gods of Mesopotamia is clear."
"Okay, I just mean… Is he like you, but the opposite? The only god taking a direct stand against us? Or could we have even more to worry about?"
"I've outsmarted An, outpaced Enki, and obliterated Ebih the Mountain. One or a dozen, I'll beat them all," Inanna said. She stood, tossing the fruit at Ritsuka for him to catch. "I'm tired. Question me no further tonight."
Ritsuka opened his mouth, but what was he supposed to say? Five more minutes? "Tomorrow, then."
Inanna didn't respond, but the doors of the sanctum swung open, and Ritsuka took that as his cue to leave as she began unwrapping her garments and stepped out of sight behind her throne.
Chapter 5: Phantom Joke
Summary:
Ritsuka and Mash spend time together before embarking on a mission.
Notes:
Late update; apologies, I'm moving this week and things have been hectic. Next week I don't think I will be updating at all, but I'll be back on the 8th.
Chapter Text
Another night passed, like so many others. Once more, Ritsuka trudged out of the inner chambers of the temple, trying to work out the kink in his lower back. With a sigh, he ambled not toward his own quarters, but toward the exterior of the temple, leaning against a carved pillar and staring up at the moon.
He thumbed his throat mic. "Doctor, are you there?"
"Nope," da Vinci answered.
"Really? How'd you manage that?"
"It's easy, when he's practically dead on his feet already. And when you slip some meds into his coffee."
"Is that safe?"
"He's the medical doctor, not me. I've never really had a chance to tell you this before, but… he really doesn't take breaks while you're out in the field."
"I know, he's a workaholic."
"No, I mean -- literally, the only breaks he takes are when I force him and promise to personally take his place, and he really only uses it to get more coffee. I have to bring him food, or he'd probably just starve staring at the computers. He insists on overseeing every possible second in the command room."
Ritsuka's mouth opened, his eyes narrowed. He thumbed the mic again. "Da Vinci, we've been in Uruk for weeks."
"I know! He's been a nightmare to deal with. On the bright side, when he finally conks out, he usually ends up getting a solid 10 hours, so that… doesn't really make up for it, but it's something."
"He's never told us that... Nobody has."
"Everyone in the command room has a lot of respect for him. And they don't want to worry you, either. Romani's been a very good acting Director of Chaldea."
The warmth was evident in her tone, as was her smile.
"Have you told him that yourself?" Ritsuka asked. Her happiness was infectious.
"I have, in as many different ways as I can come up with, and I am a genius, remember. But I'm sure you don't want to hear about our love life -- what did you call about?"
"Kind of related, I guess," he shrugged, crossing his arms. "We've been here almost a month. Is this… okay, da Vinci? I mean… we're getting close to the deadline. Really close."
"2017 is coming up fast…" da Vinci sighed. "But we still have some time. If this is what it takes to gain Gilgamesh's trust, then it's what you have to do. We trust in your ability to see this through."
"Not just because I'm the only choice?" he asked. Immediately, he regretted it, biting his lip.
"Don't make me come down there," she threatened. "Maybe you were the only viable Master left, and maybe it did help that Mash had already contracted with you in Singularity X… But that doesn't change the fact that I don't think anyone else could have done what you did. I spent a year with Team A, longer than that with some of them as individuals, and while they were all strong and capable in their own rights, you have your unique advantages, too. You're not a magus; that means you operate with a completely different perspective, different priorities. Better priorities, I'd say. Could anyone on Team A have gotten this far? I don't know. Maybe. But you're the one who's here. Nothing's going to erase what you've accomplished -- and, let's not forget, what you're still going to."
Ritsuka sighed. "Thanks, da Vinci."
"That's why I'm here! No, seriously, I feel like at least… 70% of my job is actually mental and emotional support, rather than tech support."
"Well, we'd be in big trouble without it," Ritsuka said. "Really, da Vinci, thanks. And I'll see if I can get another audience with Gilgamesh. If he doesn't trust us yet, we may need to think about something else to convince him."
He killed the mic for the night, turning slowly to head back inside, hissing as he aggravated his back.
"You should be resting, Master," Mash said, so suddenly that Ritsuka almost jumped. Maybe he really was exhausted, not to have noticed her. Or maybe…
"Were you waiting for me?" he asked.
"... Yes," she admitted. "I understand Inanna provides useful… intel, but you need your sleep."
"Are you… jealous?" he teased. She pursed her lips, and he was quick to step toward her. "Hey, that was a joke. Well, no -- jokes are funny, so I guess it wasn't a joke. Um… Walk to my room with me?"
She nodded and spun on her heel, and Ritsuka stepped forward quickly, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her back into step with him, slower.
"Should I be jealous?" she asked.
"Of a goddess of beauty and war? Mash, I'm jealous of her."
"You're avoiding the question."
"No, I'm avoiding stating the obvious. There's a very slight psychological difference which hopefully matters when I explain -- you have nothing to be jealous of, Mash. Nobody can replace you. I would never do something like that."
"... But everyone does," she said. "Marisbury abandoned the Demiservant project, Olga-Marie avoided me, most of the other members of Team A only saw me as a piece of equipment for the mission... So did I."
"And Roman?" Ritsuka challenged gently. "We can't know how everything will turn out, but you can't assume we're going to act the same as others did. I say this next part to be comforting, not hurtful, but not trusting us like that is a little insulting. Do you really think I'm like that?"
"No," Mash relented. "No, of course not. I hope not. I don't think so."
Ritsuka spread his hands at his sides a little. "That's all I can ask. The rest… we have to figure out as we go along."
They arrived at the wooden door to Ritsuka's room, and Mash dropped his hand, and started wringing her own. "Can I… help you with your back?" she asked. "To… apologize for insulting you."
"I'm not insulted," Ritsuka said. "But, uh… I'd… I'd like that. Have you… ever actually given anyone a massage before?"
"I've been studying the practice," she said neutrally.
"Uh-huh," he nodded, closing the door behind her. "Can I ask why?"
"Because… Because studies agree that team morale and comfort play a large role in enhancing performance in the field."
"Uh-huh. See now, I'm gonna trust that's your way of avoiding telling me why you've really been thinking about it. That's how it works."
Mash lowered her gaze, letting her hair fall over her face and obscure her eyes. "You should… lay down."
"Okay."
Mash was undoubtedly strong, but gentle. Too gentle at first, in fact.
"Mash, while it's… nice just to have your hands on me like this, I really can't feel a whole lot of it through the suit. It's okay, start pressing harder, slowly, and I'll tell you when to stop."
"You could… remove it," she suggested.
"Are you… sure?"
"It's nothing special for teammates to be naked together," she claimed. He supposed, technically, she was right. The showers in Chaldea were communal, like a gym, though they were so understaffed since Lev's sabotage that only one person ever used them at a time.
"You're going to remove yours, too?"
"I -- yes, of course. It will… be more effective with… bare hands on bare skin."
They shifted and sat next to each other, and Ritsuka, fighting all the nerves in his body, peeled the Rayshift suit down to his waist -- only for his soul to leave him entirely for a moment as Mash stood and simply dropped hers to her ankles, stepping out and leaving her just in her underwear.
"Oh."
"W-what's wrong?" she asked. "Like I said… there's nothing strange about us being naked together."
Ritsuka almost pointed out that she wasn't quite naked, but suspected that if he voiced such a thing, Mash might take it as a challenge. There was already that stubborn, daring edge to her voice, like they were in combat and not just undressing. And Mash had lived a sheltered life -- literally. Ritsuka didn't want to rush her into anything. As much as he also did.
Ritsuka cleared his throat and pulled off the rest of his suit, folding it perfunctorily by the head of his bed. He debated and aborted twice before resolving to unwrap his chest, too, laying back down quickly.
Mash came back to the mattress, with his prompting swinging her leg over his knees, and he could have fallen asleep just like that as her hands returned to his back. In fact, he did. He only woke again when Mash slowly pushed herself away from the bed to leave.
"Hey," he said groggily, reaching out for her and finding her finger reaching back, hooking to his. "You can… stay, if you want."
When she was silent for an uncomfortably long moment, he added, "It's such a long walk back to your room. You know. It's not… too weird for teammates to share a sleeping bag in the field, is it?"
"This isn't a sleeping bag," Mash said quietly. "Do you… want me to stay?"
"Yeah," Ritsuka said. "Come here. Just… lay down next to me. Can I rest against you?"
Mash nodded, the tiny hum of assent in her throat lost in the quiet of the night.
"Actually, um… Inanna said we should take the day off tomorrow."
Mash furrowed her brow. "Where is Inanna in our effective chain of command?"
"Well actually what she said was: If I hear you've been helping out again when I get back tomorrow night, you're all going to get it."
"Oh."
"So… it's not, y'know, Paris or anything, but since we're not in Chaldea for once, I thought… maybe I could take you on a date."
"I'm not… really familiar with the concept."
Ritsuka scoffed onto her shoulder. "Come on. All those movies Roman showed you, and none of them included anyone going on dates?"
"I mean… the real thing is different. I assume."
"A little, yeah. I just want to take you out to have some fun, that's all. That's all it needs to be."
"... Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"... Okay."
As it turned out, Ritsuka hadn't needed to worry about finding another way to impress Gilgamesh. In the morning, Rasputin came to E-anna to tell them that the King requested their presence that evening, once their day of rest had come to a close.
Ritsuka took Mash to the markets -- they bartered for fresh fruit and flowers, sweets, crude but pretty jewelry -- and then to dinner. It wasn't much -- restaurants proper basically hadn't been invented yet, which was a funny thought -- but there was something like an inn along one of Uruk's larger canals, built to house and feed caravans that moved by road or river. That was close enough, Ritsuka had decided, and the reason he had spent some of his time helping the inn with menial labor.
All the while, the mood was buoyed by knowing they finally had Gilgamesh's attention. That evening, Rasputin led them back to the ziggurat, where Gilgamesh was already in quiet conversation with Nimue.
"--must be stronger," Gilgamesh muttered. "Here, as well as here. It must be able to withstand even the wrath of Enlil. I know you have experience in projects such as this."
"Flattery will not make the work go faster, or produce more materials from thin air," Nimue chided.
"Use whatever you require. I give you full permission. As much stone and iron as you need."
The Chadeans looked the part, now, of Uruk citizens, Mash with her kaunake and a carnelian necklace, a bronze armlet and copper earrings added to Ritsuka's ensemble. Their new neighbors were put at ease, even pleased, that they had acquiesced to wearing some of the local style in addition to their strange foreign garb.
The first thing Gilgamesh did, of course, was laugh at them. "Are you ready to abandon your futures as magi and live as citizens of glorious Uruk?"
"It's not so bad," Ritsuka said. "Still… we are doing all this so we have a future to go back to."
"Indeed," Gilgamesh said. He brought his fist down on the arm of his throne. "Enough. I will waste no more of either your time or, more importantly, mine. You have proven yourselves humble, reliable, and good-natured… even if you spend perhaps too much time conversing with that impudent brat of a goddess."
"Thank you, King Gilgamesh," Ritsuka bowed before he realized it. It seemed natural. "Does that mean--?"
"The time has not yet come for us to act directly," he interrupted. "To face the Triple Goddess Alliance head-on would yet be foolish, with how pitifully little information we have. But I have a task for you. It has been some time since I have stretched my legs. Unfortunately, my own Shielder perished, so in his place you are to escort me -- to an observatory near Ur, on the coast of the gulf."
"An observatory?"
"Indeed. A trifling thing; much of our way of life in Mesopotamia relies upon the gulf and the rivers that flow into it. Keeping a close eye on it is only natural, especially in these tumultuous times."
It sounded like an excuse to Ritsuka. But if clairvoyance demanded the King to actually see things to judge the future, then maybe it really would be beneficial. Even if it wasn't, he had to admit he felt a little excited to be escorting the King personally. Although prickly, he seemed so different from the cruel, arrogant tyrant from Fuyuki, and Ritsuka was curious about him.
"I shall have a boat and sledge prepared for you," Rasputin said.
"No need," Gilgamesh waved his hand. "I have already made the arrangements. And you, as well as Nimue and her Servant, will remain here, and continue your efforts in the healing houses."
"Oh?"
"Do you have less faith in the warriors of Chaldea than I believed? Or do you think I am no longer capable of making such a journey?"
"I'm sure they will be safe in each other's company," said Alexander. "I've been enjoying helping the shepherds, anyway."
"I ask the Chaldeans' company for entertainment, little else. Now retire to E-anna. We shall leave at dawn."
Rasputin and Alexander bowed, Nimue curtsied, flaring the butterfly-like patterns on the interior of her white skirts, and after a moment, Ritsuka and Mash did the same, bending at the waists.
Dawn came sooner than Ritsuka's tired body wanted to accept, but he forced himself up and into his uniform all the same. After a month of rising with the sun, it was no longer that difficult, but it didn't make him any more of a morning person. They met King Gilgamesh at the foot of the ziggurat, and from there he led them to an ornate, canopied boat secured to a large sledge, pulled by a team of oxen.
"Where's the driver?" Ritsuka asked.
"We require none," Gilgamesh said. "Come. Every moment you hesitate is another wasted. Join me, and you may regale me with tales of your adventures throughout other times and places."
Hesitantly, Ritsuka and Mash did as they were invited, settling into the lushly-cushioned interior of the boat as the oxen began pulling them on their journey toward the coast. Gilgamesh, sprawled comfortably along one side, raised his hands. "So? Does my humble transport compare to the inner sanctum of Inanna-Gugkalla?"
The Precious Carnelian, their mystic codes helpfully provided. It didn't specify sarcasm, but Ritsuka didn't need any help guessing that from the King's tone.
"I'd prefer not to take sides and piss either of you off, your majesty," he said.
"Wise, indeed," Gilgamesh accepted. "Now, travelers from a distant future -- my story."
"Okay, um…" Ritsuka bit his lip and looked at Mash. "Let's start at the beginning. Well… almost. Let's start with… a Tale of Orleans. It has a little bit of everything… Love, loss, revenge, forgiveness. Sin and punishment, and heroism."
"It sounds intriguing," Gilgamesh encouraged. "Tell me first of the players in this story."
"Our main cast is made of seven Servants," Ritsuka began, doing his best to slip into the role of a bard. "The three noble Knights, of course: Saber, Lancer, and Archer. And also a Rider, a Berserker, an Avenger, and a Ruler."
"Ah," Gilgamesh hummed in indulgent curiosity. "Tell me first of the Avenger."
Ritsuka smiled. "The most important player of all: Jeanne d'Arc -- or almost. An imperfect facsimile, created by a madman's wish on Solomon's Holy Grail."
"A fake."
"Not exactly a copy of Jeanne, but something new, created in her image, distorted. If an Alter is a Servant with their worst features taken to an extreme, she was imbued with the anger that the original Jeanne lacked. A unique person in her own right, still taking her first steps on the path to deciding who she would really be."
"And the Ruler?"
"Who else but the original Jeanne d'Arc herself?"
Gilgamesh bellowed in laughter. "Indeed! I can see the shape of the story beginning to unfold already. Tell me of… the Berserker, then."
"Avenger was a Servant summoned from a wish, and Ruler was chain-summoned to counteract her; the others were summoned by Avenger herself, to be her generals in her quest for vengeance against the people of France, who had condemned Jeanne d'Arc to martyrdom. Her Berserker was the Dragon of Wallachia, Vlad Tepes Dracula III."
"A noteworthy general?" Gilgamesh surmised.
"A terrifying one, who earned his nome de guerre: the Impaler."
"You have a small talent for stories, warrior of Chaldea. Now speak of the Rider, and the Knights."
"Her Lancer was the Dragon of Echigo, Nagao Kagetora; like Vlad, a ruthless leader, and a brutal warrior. Her Archer was Napoleon Bonaparte, the future Emperor of France himself; his reputation was that of a diminutive coward, but in truth he was great in both stature and in spirit, and a capable user of his cannon. Her Saber and Rider were the fiercest yet: the heroes of Norse myth, Brynhild, the fallen Queen of Valkyries, and her husband Sigurd, the slayer of the dragon Fafnir."
"I would not be disappointed to have found myself with such an array of Servants," Gilgamesh remarked.
"Me, either," Ritsuka agreed. "But Gilles de Rais, the one who had summoned Avenger in his madness, in his grief over the death of Jeanne d'Arc, inflicted a similar madness upon all their Servants. Only Ruler was spared, summoned by the Grail elsewhere as a Rogue Servant. And that, of course, is also where we hapless stargazers of Chaldea found ourselves…"
Ritsuka continued the story as best he could recall, embellishing a little here or there as Gilgamesh grinned with delight. He told of how the Servants had been sent to kill the Chaldeans and their Ruler ally one by one until they encountered Brynhild, who had resisted the curse of madness because of her own psychological curse. He recounted how, with her aid, they were able to subdue Napoleon and secure him as an ally. Ritsuka included, in brevity, the long talks they had with Ruler, Brynhild, and Napoleon at their camps, the advice they had passed on to the two young Chaldeans; Brynhild's empathy and enduring loyalty for her own vengeful Master, and the keen insight of Mumei over the comms in Chaldea, who had taken an interest in how each of Avenger's Servants could be called a "fake" human, like the Avenger seemed to see herself.
"They are also all related to dragonkin in some way," Gilgamesh observed. He waved his hand. "Except Napoleon, I suppose, unless you have left something out -- but he seems closely tied to the land in which you found yourselves."
"Avenger herself had been imbued with a close association with dragons," Ritsuka confirmed. "Ruler told us it was probably a fluke, something to do with one of her own other summonings that strongly affected her. That's also, we think, why we were able to break Napoleon out of it, but not the others."
Finally, Ritsuka recounted the final battle: how Brynhild had faced down Sigurd and their love had triumphed over their curses, both of them working together to slay the dragon Fafnir itself summoned by Gilles; how Avenger and Ruler had clashed, and how Ruler had allowed herself to die at Avenger's hands, causing her Alter to realize that vengeance could never sate the emptiness inside her; how Avenger had finally aided Chaldea against Gilles and the Demon Lord Belial; and how her newfound resolution had been rewarded by being resummoned into Chaldea as Ritsuka's third official Servant after Mash and Mumei.
Mash remained silent throughout most of the story, but she seemed to enjoy its recounting, especially the humorous reenactments of Ritsuka's struggles to communicate with the local Frenchmen using his rusty high school French because they had overlooked enchanting his then-prototype Rayshift suit with a simple translation spell. It had been a formative experience for them both: in a way, just as the Avenger had felt she was a fake Jeanne, Mash herself had felt she was a fake human, and Ritsuka had felt he was a fake Master. It was a fear that still bothered him, at times -- that he was a poor substitute for the members of Team A that Mash had been trained with, the heroes who were supposed to be here, saving the world, and were instead grievously wounded, frozen just before death in cryostasis in Chaldea.
But the story kept Gilgamesh entertained and in good cheer. He was a good audience, eagerly asking questions, condemning Gilles' actions while still empathizing with his sense of loss and aimlessness, and playing hype man for the heroes he had never even heard of. Away from his throne, he came alive, enjoying the sun and the air of his land, his raucous laughter and boisterous commentary bellowing out with the wind. It was a beautiful, and unexpectedly enjoyable, journey.
They transferred the boat from the oxen-sledge to the river when they were past Girsu -- or rather, it was more accurate to say that Gilgamesh transferred the boat with magic once they were past the site that used to be Girsu.
"Look well at the unbridled wrath of Inanna," he said.
Girsu was little more than rubble. What had once been a proud city-state had been reduced to ruins, craters left in the city turning into ponds as the river continued to flow through the scarred city on its way to the coast.
"She said she was taking care of an undead army," Ritsuka said.
"Gods always have a reason for their destruction," said Gilgamesh. "Will you be interested to hear them if she decides Uruk, too, must be turned to burnt memory, to satisfy her lust for glory?"
That gave Ritsuka a moment of pause. In destroying the undead at Girsu, Inanna had saved them all from a great deal of trouble. But she had also destroyed homes that, if they survived all this, would leave hundreds or thousands of her own devotees as refugees. Had she done it for their own good, or because she wanted that badly to be the hero of this war?
They reached the observatory the next day. A handful of scholars dwelt within the lighthouse-like structure, sharing data and samples with their King, as Ritsuka and Mash relaxed on the shore.
"Moments like this feel… wrong," Mash said.
He looked at her, question on his face, but silent.
"This is a mission," she said. "We are, for all intents and purposes, in enemy territory, on a timetable, and fighting for the survival of humanity. But I find it… enjoyable."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Ritsuka reassured her. "I decided it was a good time for a date just the other day, remember? It's human nature. No matter what's going on, we still find reasons to be happy, and reasons to be upset."
"I'm far from a normal human," she reminded him.
"I'm not exactly normal either, remember? I mean, I don't think I have been for a long time, but especially not now. But that's also what makes us perfectly normal humans. No one has a normal life. Everyone is just in the middle of their own uniquely strange, strange story."
"Yours is at an end, I'm afraid."
Ritsuka swore and scrambled to his feet. Mash was already up and holding her shield in front of them, putting herself directly between Ritsuka and Enkidu.
"Been a while, how've you been?" If Ritsuka had learned one thing, it was to take the initiative. "You haven't been avoiding us, have you? Embarrassed by Nimue making such a fool out of you?"
"You're the ones who should be embarrassed, coming all this way without any of your protectors," not-Enkidu sneered. "I'm not one to take undue risks, you see. But you've made this easy."
They raised their hand and began to glow gold, and Ritsuka smiled.
"You're forgetting our best protector," he said.
"Bab-ilu!"
Chains shot forward from Enkidu's body, but disappeared into an array of golden portals that opened up before them. They irised shut again, severing the chains, and Enkidu recoiled as if wounded, spinning to face Gilgamesh, glowering in the sandbank scarcely twenty feet back.
"You--?" Enkidu lost their footing in the sand, stumbling a little, grinding the heel of one hand into their eye. "How did I not--?"
Mash shifted to lunge at them while their back was turned, but Gilgamesh barked at her, "No -- I shall deal with this insult to my friend's memory myself!"
Enkidu growled wordlessly and launched a new battery of chains toward Gilgamesh, sliding frictionlessly around the king in a great semicircle through the sand. Lightning sparked in his wake, and the sand beneath their bare feet turned to lines of glass.
Gilgamesh didn't move a muscle. He held his axe at the ready in one hand, a stone tablet of magic in his other, heavy gold-clawed gauntlets fixed over his hands, but the axe remained low. The portals of his treasury, the "Gate of God" opened up all around him and magical staves of all kinds jutted through, projecting protective shields or emitting bolts of energy or beams of light, deflecting chains or strafing through the sand to harry Enkidu. The divine being of clay launched themselves into the air and flashed around faster than Ritsuka's eyes could follow, carving a path of destruction that kicked sand and earth high into the air and blew away sides of the cliff face.
"Have you grown so clumsy, Enkidu!?"
"I am not Enkidu! I am Kingu, the face of the new gods!"
And still Gilgamesh did not move through the splashes of superheated molten sand. He only raised his axe to parry once as Enkidu passed close before launching themself high into the air. Squinting against the sun, it looked to Ritsuka like Enkidu -- Kingu -- themselves became a mass of chains, all spiralling downward and forming one massive, hooked anchor descending on Gilgamesh with the force of gods. The King still did not flinch, only looking upward, his golden portals forming just over his head--
Ritsuka covered his eyes against the light and heat and particulate that followed, his ears ringing from the explosion, but when he looked back, Gilgamesh was unmoved, surrounded by ruined earth, and Kingu crouched like an animal perhaps thirty feet away, panting, their voluptuous hair loose and frenzied around them, teeth gritted in pain. They stared each other down for a long moment, then Kingu flung themselves into the air and shot away, yelling in rage.
"What just…?" Ritsuka wondered.
"My business here is done," Gilgamesh declared abruptly. "Let us return to Uruk."
"Brooding, O King?"
Gilgamesh sighed to himself, but did not lift his eyes from his tablet. Scarcely a day away, and he had so much work to catch up on. "Who gave you permission to enter my presence?"
Inanna put her hand on her hip, floating directly up the dais to his throne, utterly impetuous. "Nobody grants me permission for anything. If the Lady of Heaven wishes to enter the throne room of Uruk -- or the treasury, or the King's bath, or anywhere -- then she does. You may not acknowledge me as your goddess, but I am still the god of this throne."
"So you wish to believe. And if you come anywhere near my baths, I shall catch you and see you flogged."
"Is that a promise?"
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes.
"So? I heard you encountered Enkidu on the gulf."
That made Gilgamesh lift his gaze. "Enkidu is dead."
"Don't evade me, Gil."
"Not even the luckiest of boors could hope to escape your pursuit."
She slapped the tablet from his hand. It landed with a great crack, shattering against the floor. Gilgamesh sighed. Once upon a time, he would have jumped to his feet and been ready to wrestle physically with the goddess for such an insult.
"It is Enkidu, yes. Their body, at least. Not their soul."
"You're sure?"
He glared at the goddess.
Inanna nodded. "Okay, you're sure. Then Enkidu's body, the Chain of Heaven, has been stolen from Irkalla, and is being used by some… imposter."
"They appear to be bound with a Servant's Saint Graph, though Romani and I postulate it to be artificial; like a Demiservant, made from scratch using one of Solomon's Demons as the soul. That is why Ritsuka could not see it. They called themselves Kingu."
"Kingu…" Inanna's lip curled. "Another offspring of Tiamat. I won't suffer such an insult to Aruru."
"You've suffered it so far, without even investigating him yourself," Gilgamesh accused coolly.
"If it was indeed Enkidu, or at least their body, they were designed to counter divinity," Inanna recounted. "The foolishness of that decision is still very much up for discussion, obviously. But I wasn't going to risk being taken for a fool by them -- not before you've made amends to me."
"The gulf shall dry up and Mesopotamia shall all turn to dust before that day comes."
"You shouldn't speak such things into existence," Inanna warned seriously.
Gilgamesh frowned, but said, "The vision I saw was of our people drowned beneath black tides. Not withered away."
"Oh, good to know I'll be able to out-fly the danger, then."
"Is your own safety and satisfaction all you care about?"
"Is Enkidu all you care about?" Inanna countered. "You've never been the same since they died, and certainly not since this… Kingu appeared. Very well then, answer me this: what do you plan to do about them?"
Gilgamesh met her demanding gaze easily. "Whatever I must. That is my duty, as King to my people."
Inanna nodded. "It's good to hear you haven't forgotten that again."
"The lesson learned by Enkidu's death was harsh, and it will last until my grave," Gilgamesh said. It was, almost, a sort of promise.
"Make sure that day doesn't come too soon," Inanna told him. "Even if you die, I won't help Uruk if you didn't appease me first."
It was a bald lie. Gilgamesh knew. Even without his clairvoyance, her love for his people had never been in question. But her stubbornness brought a smirk to his lips anyway. "Make sure you are not completely taken for a fool before I show you just how obsolete you are to the people of Uruk."
"A wager, then?"
"I do not play games."
"Of course you do," Inanna smirked right back, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. "You're playing my game right now -- for I am Inanna, Lady of Battle, and war is my game, remember?"
"If you wish to fight, that is one childish desire of yours I would entertain."
Inanna laughed. "I don't waste effort on easy victories. Now, Kingu… them, I will stop in the name of Uruk. If you fail first."
Gilgamesh stared at her a moment, then inclined his head slightly. "Thank you. Enkidu was my friend. My… I would appreciate the opportunity to right this insult myself."
"Of course," she agreed. "See? I can be perfectly reasonable."
Against all odds, Gilgamesh laughed. That surprised him. "You are perfectly impossible."
Inanna grinned. "That's why I always win in the end, Gil. Seeya."
Chapter 6: Mother of Chaos
Summary:
Gilgamesh and the Chaldeans launch a new offensive in the war.
Chapter Text
It was morning in E-anna. That meant the halls whispered with prayers -- priests praying in solitude, with each other, leading visitors, not to mention lining the entrance with the crowd of citizens, all of them reaching upward as Inanna walked out between them, running her hands over theirs in blessing before she departed with the dawning sun, leaving the two Chaldeans and the Servants of Uruk behind as they reported to the throne room of Uruk once more.
"Your performance in my previous tasks has been adequate," Gilgamesh began.
Strong start, thought Ritsuka.
"From this day forward, consider yourselves official citizens of Uruk -- and hereby immediately conscripted to military service."
Ritsuka smirked. "Yes, your Majesty!"
Rasputin nodded in congratulations. Mash stood at attention, more than used to pseudo-military role calls and briefings.
"Today you embark upon the final fight for Nippur," Gilgamesh continued. He swept his hand out, and the little golden portals of his Bab-ilu apparated around the room, protruding wands that in turn projected a quasi-holographic representation of the city and the surrounding area. "This is the operation for which we have been preparing since you arrived. Immediately after leaving this briefing, you will ride with Lancer's new cavalry regiment at all speed to the North Wall. There you will shelter for the night, and at dawn tomorrow, you will advance on Nippur. Lancer?"
Hector stepped forward, flicking a piece of long grass from his mouth. "Archer's been in the city for almost a month now, keeping the place alive -- scouting out the enemy, disrupting their formations, all that good stuff. Tomorrow we'll join her, splitting into two units: I'll take the bulk of the fighting force and sweep around the west, hitting the udug with cavalry charges. At the same time, Archer will lead her men in a charge from the west gate. We're going to break the siege."
He took a moment to scratch his beard, grind the blade of long grass beneath his heel. "Meanwhile, Berserker and the Chaldeans will take the rest of the men to the east gate, load all the survivors from Nippur into caravans, and hightail it back to the North Wall, where Caster and Alexander will be providing cover with the warriors."
"Once Nippur is evacuated once and for all, the North Wall itself can take its proper place as the new front line," Gilgamesh said, "And without having to worry about survivors anywhere north of the wall, we can direct our full efforts toward the dissolution of the Triple Goddess Alliance."
"They won't get involved in the battle for Nippur?" Ritsuka asked.
"They have not so far."
"And Kingu?" Mash asked. "Tomoe told us that when you first broke the siege at Nippur, they singlehandedly reversed the battle again."
"The plan remains the same." Hector exuded his unique kind of confidence-through-boredom. "We keep holding them as long as possible at the west gate while you evacuate the survivors."
"Should it come to it," Gilgamesh tapped his finger on the arm of his throne, "This is the final fight for Nippur. The city has already been mostly evacuated, and we can no longer afford to focus our attention there. Servants are some of our most valuable weapons, and I have already lost three. The ultimate survival of the Servants -- and therefore the Master of Chaldea -- must take priority over the last survivors of Nippur. If you are overwhelmed, abandon the operation."
Ritsuka objected. "This is what we're for -- we're fighters. We're going in there to save those people. We can't just retreat without them."
"Your king has issued your commands." Gilgamesh's hand closed to a fist. "You have a warrior's heart, but I must prioritize the greater good of all Mesopotamia, and you are more valuable by far as a Master than as a warrior. Make no mistake -- I expect you to fight tooth and nail for the people of Nippur, within an inch of your lives. But I order that you do not overstep that last inch."
Ritsuka bit his lip. He understood, in principle, he just -- it was a new feeling, having his safety prioritized over bystanders, and he didn't like it.
Gilgamesh nodded, accepting his silent understanding. "Good. Now, go! Break the siege of Nippur once and for all, and establish the absolute front of this war."
The ride from Uruk to the North Wall didn't need to be particularly hard or fast, but it was meticulous. They took all the horses left in Uruk, and their plan relied on at least a small measure of subterfuge; so Hector moved the regiment carefully in an erratic pattern, seeking to avoid being spotted in case Kingu decided to do a fly-by.
They arrived at the North Wall just after sunset, under the cover of night, quickly stashing the horses in the stables built into the bottom of the wall -- evidently, Gilgamesh had been planning for this day for a long time -- and ushering the men inside to eat and sleep before the decisive day.
Let them sleep soundly, Alexander prayed. They deserve it.
"And where do you think you're going?"
Alexander shuddered to hear the cold voice, devoid of the earnest warmth draped over it during the daytime. Nimue stood only a few meters behind him, arms crossed disapprovingly over her chest. How she was so silent when she wished to be, Alexander didn't know.
"Sir Brunor perished quite soundly in his attack on the Cedar Forest," she reminded him. "Do you really think you alone hold better odds?"
Alexander frowned, unshouldering his makeshift rucksack. "This is my responsibility -- we both know it. I'm bad luck, anyway. I don't want a repeat of what I caused before."
"Technically, that still won't happen for another 1500 years or so," Nimue reminded him cheekily. She sighed, sitting atop a parapet of the North Wall and crossing her legs, staring down at him as if she was bored. "If you'll recall, Alexander -- I, too, was the downfall of a kingdom, except I was quite glad to watch the show at the time. That makes me far more reprehensible than you, and rightly so. The Chaldeans wouldn't shun you for who you really are."
"Should I tell them who you really are, too, then?" he asked.
The white witch shrugged. "If you wish. They've made friends of far more personal enemies, Emiya Shirou and the Avenger Jeanne d'Arc just for two examples -- though I suppose you wouldn't know either of them. But -- in this case, I agree with you. Your name should still remain hidden, for now, not as a matter of conscience, but of tactics. Luckily for us, I doubt our enemy will recognize you by your face. You'll be her Achilles' Heel."
"Nimue" smirked, then pushed off again from the wall, landing lightly on her feet. She cleared her throat, and her voice returned as bright and breezy. "In any case, there's someone else who wants to talk to you, too, so I'll get back to eavesdropping on everyone else's dreams. Don't make me use a Command Spell to keep you from running off, now."
The wizardess opened her palm and blew a fully-formed, vibrant poppy blossom over Alexander. Leaving the flower spinning slowly in the calm night wind, she walked away, and as she entered the tower, grinned sunnily at the figure who stood just out of sight -- and Hector stepped past her with a chagrined smile.
"Sorry for eavesdropping," he said to Alexander.
"Think nothing of it," the Rogue Archer said. "I should be begging your pardon for considering desertion."
"Ahh, who hasn't?" Hector shrugged. He leaned against the wall next to the younger Servant, rolling another strand of wheat between his teeth. "You really think you're more harm than good?"
"Aren't I?"
Hector only sighed. He knew it was no use arguing about something like this. "Look… I'll keep this brief, since I know I've been pretty harsh on you in the past…"
"On the contrary," Alexander interrupted, "You've been nothing but supportive and inspiring. It shames my own conduct."
"--And you're even harsher on yourself," Hector finished with a wry smirk. "Far too harsh. Other people make their own choices, and it's not your fault. Claiming it is diminishes the choices and sacrifices others have made."
"Choices and sacrifices they had to make because of me," Alexander insisted. "Because of my shortsightedness, my incompetence."
"You're demonstrably more capable than you think you are." Hector gestured to his bow. "By far the best shot in Uruk. Probably better than Tomoe, too."
"Please."
"I'm serious. She might be an Archer right now, but she's still more handy with her swords and spear than her bow. My point is… you'll have your chance to prove you're every bit as much a hero as the rest of us."
Alexander looked down at the ground, his shoulders sagging against the wall. Everything felt so heavy all of a sudden. It felt just like it did before, all those years ago, when his selfishness had caused so much untold death.
"Come on…" Hector slid down the wall, patting the ground beside him. "Take a load off, kiddo. Neither of us is going anywhere. Just take a minute here with me. Breathe."
Hector was truly a great hero. Endlessly giving, a brilliant icon of nobility in a world where might made right. He was an ally Alexander didn't deserve.
The Rogue Archer crouched next to Hector, lowering his head into his hands. The Lancer patted him comfortably on the shoulder.
"Thattaboy. Just relax. We got plenty of time before sun-up."
"Thank you... Hector. Truly, I don't deserve your kindness."
"I'm not anything special," the Lancer shrugged. "Just an old man who doesn't want to see you waste this second chance. You're not gonna do anyone any good by running off on your own. You'll get your moment -- to make it all up to them. But for me… you don't gotta do anything special. Just keep doing your best."
"You make it sound so easy."
"Oh, hell no," Hector chuckled. "Their best is about the hardest thing anyone can do. But I think you've got what it takes. Even if you don't think you do… keep your eyes on that Chaldean kid. He's a lot like you, you know -- worried all to pieces he isn't good enough. But he's still here, ready to take his licks like he isn't a regular human standing next to a bunch of Servants."
Alexander nodded. "He is an exemplary Master. I wish my own were like him, but perhaps Nimue is no more than I deserve."
"Maybe she's just what you need to keep you on track," Hector posed. "After all, I wouldn't have made it here to you in time to stop you from leaving."
"Perhaps you're right," Alexander mused. "I get the feeling she doesn't particularly like being my Master, either. Not because of me -- I don't think she's used to being so directly involved in the affairs of men."
"Must be nice," Hector joked.
They enacted their plan at dawn.
Hector led the cavalry charge from the North Wall, straight toward Nippur, curving around the ravaged western wall of the city like a great scythe. They cut inward toward the north, cutting deep into the side of the udug horde, breaking the formation in two and carving their way out again. They circled around, outpacing the udug, and gathered again for a second charge, reforming into a wedge to drive again into the block of beasts.
Hector gave out a hoarse war cry, swinging the long spear-haft of Durendal, cleaving through udug as he passed. He skidded his horse to a stop and wheeled him around again, leading the men around in a closing iris of cavalry. Their attack was going well; they were losing few men, staying clear of the kind of trouble that would get them stuck in the throng, and doing significant damage to the udug's sheer numbers and their formation. There was just one issue.
The gates of Nippur were still sealed. Tomoe should have begun her own attack by now. Hector had a terrible feeling forming deep in his gut.
Finally, as he came about for a fourth charge, the gates of Nippur crashed open, and Tomoe stood in the center, her white lacquer armor spattered with dried rusty red.
Hector's instincts barely saved his life, snapping his shield up to block the arrow loosed from her bow before it pierced his helm. The force alone threw him from his mount and into the teeming mass of udug, and he scrambled to his feet, hunching low behind his shield and swinging hard with Durendal to make some space.
"Yoshitsune!" Tomoe cried out across the field. "You will pay for what you've done!"
The Archer shoved her way through the udug toward Hector. Even more surprisingly, they parted for her, allowing her advance through their ranks unimpeded.
"I will tear your head from your shoulders, and we will see what your brother thinks of that final gift from kin to kin before I drown him in his own blood!"
She was speaking nonsense, like she was in another time, another place. Hector would have tried to reason with her, noticed how odd the situation was, if the pounding in his hears, in his head, wasn't so overwhelmingly loud.
He tore the helmet from his head and almost vomited at the pressure, the rolling waves of vertigo crashing into him, but he fought it back, his eyes locking on to his enemy.
"Achilles!" he screamed, forcing himself to his feet, spitting in fury. "You will not touch Paris! You will not touch Troy! Was Troilus not enough for you? Was Polyxena not enough?"
Hector advanced toward his enemy, flexing his oricalchum arm, unfastening his scarf to allow him completely unrestricted movement. He would need it. He prayed silently to all the gods of Olympus that they would grant him victory, that he could end this war once and for all. He didn't want a life of war for his people, for his family, but right now -- that was the only end Hector could imagine, the only end he could bring himself to want for the sake of his dead brother and sister and all his dead countrymen. He wanted to make the rivers run red with Achilles' divine blood, and send a message no Greek would ever again forget should they think to attack Troy.
"You want me, too, Achilles!?" He spread his arms. "Here I am! Take back Patroclus' armor from me, if you can!"
"Yoshitsune!" Tomoe roared, throwing herself at him in a raging inferno as her oni blood ignited into flame.
Ritsuka hated when his parents got together. At first it was always good -- like they had never divorced at all -- but once Dad left, it always soured. It wasn't her fault; she was just hurting, and it left her vulnerable. Ritsuka knew that, but he didn't know what he could do to help.
Mom cracked open her… fifth? Sixth? Beer. She drew a hand back through raven-black hair, tucking her knees up to her chest in her chair.
"I just -- you're capable of so much, Rikka-chan. You can do anything. I don't understand why it's such a big deal for you to keep being my daughter."
Ritsuka bit down, grinding his molars into one another until they hurt, sitting in silence across from her. He didn't know what to say. He never did. He loved her so much, and he knew she loved him just as much, that he was in many ways the center of her life. She just… really didn't understand. Maybe that frustrated her all on its own.
Ritsuka opened his mouth, but his eye twitched and he grimaced as pain lanced through his head. "Mom, do you… do you hear that song?"
"I don't think she's really fit for this," Doctor Romani sighed. "She's in perfectly average health. Slightly above-average magical circuit quality and quantity, which is to say, well below-average for our standards. Surely there are more capable applicants from the Clock Tower, even for backups."
Ritsuka physically flinched, recoiling from the words, from first to last. Every single syllable landed like a closed fist. He just wanted to help. He wanted to be somewhere he could make a difference. Somewhere he could be himself, where that would be a good thing.
But this wasn't right. Romani had never been anything but kind -- to literally anyone, as far as Ritsuka had seen. He'd never misgendered Ritsuka even once, even though he must have known from medical records, if he couldn't simply tell by looking.
"And she keeps saying she's hearing things," Roman huffed, shaking his head.
Ritsuka's head hurt. "I do hear something. I hear… I hear, like… a s-song. It hurts…"
"Oh, it hurts, does it? Should we stop for you?" Olga-Marie accused, wreathed in flames from the surrounding buildings. "I don't know how you got into this program, even as a backup, but I will not allow you to be a liability in the field!"
This was Singularity X. Where it all began. Ritsuka took in a shaky breath, looking down at his hands, still painted with Mash's blood, from where she had been crushed almost completely beneath a fallen chunk of rubble in the Rayshift chamber. Now she stood next to him tall and unaffected, a miracle she didn't seem to even register. This was where she had died. Where the whole world had died. Where Olga-Marie…
Mash shook her head. "Even Kadoc would have been a far better combat partner than you," she said quietly. "Do you think that if you're the one to save the world, you'll finally be able to stand yourself?"
Ritsuka clutched his head, falling to his knees. "Does anyone hear that song!?" he cried.
"Fujimaru Ritsuka-kun," Rasputin said steadily. "Wake up. Can you hear me?"
"Master," Mash breathed.
Ritsuka gasped to wakefulness, whipping his head back and forth, trying to take in his surroundings -- he was in Nippur, where he had moved in with Mash, and Rasputin, and a small squad of soldiers from Uruk. His temples were throbbing in pain, but it was subsiding.
"What -- what happened?" he asked.
Rasputin shook his head. "Some manner of powerful charm came over us. I was only just able to rouse the two of you, using a combination of my skills as an Executor of the Church and as a spiritual doctor of the Mages Association."
"Are you okay?" Mash asked.
"Yeah," Ritsuka lied. "Yeah, yeah I'll be fine. What about--? Oh my god."
He slapped a hand over his mouth. It wasn't often, anymore, a scene of carnage could threaten to make him vomit. But seeing their comrades scattered dead before them, some of them still holding each other by the throat, impaled on each others' spears, brought out a visceral reaction in him.
Ritsuka had sparred with many of these soldiers. Eaten with them. Most of them were around the same age as him. Some even younger. The smooth curve of ivory here and there visible through taut curtains and frayed ropes of crimson flipped his stomach. They had brutalized each other; faces had been reduced to pulp beneath the edges of shields, ankles and knees had been slashed or smashed, throats and bellies ripped and torn with swords, with broken spear hafts, with teeth.
"They killed each other, presumably under the influence of the enchantment," Rasputin confirmed.
Ritsuka swallowed hard, feeling like he was choking down a ball of cotton. "The survivors of Nippur... Tomoe!"
He shoved himself to his feet, fighting off the moment of vertigo, and looking around. Beyond the circle of fresh slaughter, up on the walls, in the barricades in the surrounding streets… the soldiers of Nippur seemed to have suffered a similar fate, turning on each other. And, not long after, as Ritsuka steadied his breath and gathered his thoughts, they noticed they were being watched.
Enkidu -- Kingu -- hung in the sky overhead, smirking down at them. "Do you like Mother's handiwork?" they laughed. "Although technically, the majority of it was your Archer's."
The scores of bodies that had been chopped cleanly in half, those whose heads had been torn very uncleanly from their shoulders, and the few that had been burned to blackened shadows were testament to that truth.
"What did you do to her?" Ritsuka demanded.
"Not I -- Mother," Kingu reiterated. "This is the power of her very presence alone. Inanna is but a pale imitation, not worthy of being considered a true Mother Goddess."
"I suspect the Lady of Countless Authorities would detest that title, in any case," said Rasputin. "It reflects that of a passive guardian, a bystander, and she has always been something of an incorrigible troublemaker."
"It's a wonder you're resisting Mother's influence even for a brief moment," Kingu continued, as if they had not even heard Rasputin's aside. "It must be quite difficult."
"The Lord shall deliver us from all temptations," Rasputin said simply.
"How dare you speak of such a hollow idol in my presence?" Kingu sneered. "Before I kill you, take comfort in knowing that all your comrades in Uruk will follow very soon."
"I see," Rasputin nodded sagely. "In that case…"
Quick as a blink, he jerked his arm, and in a flash of light three blades the size of shortswords flung from his hand, stabbing into Kingu's chest.
"Ah!" Kingu cried out, as if surprised such an attack could hurt them at all. They threw out their own hands and an array of golden chains shot forward toward Ritsuka--
Mash stepped before him, shield at the ready, but before they could even impact her bulwark, Rasputin intercepted and cut them down with more of the straight, narrow blades, clutched between his knuckles like claws.
Kingu gaped, offended. "How could you just--?"
"Black Keys," Rasputin said, "Exceedingly simple tools, but most effective against false idols."
"We have to get out of here," Ritsuka said. "If the soldiers of Nippur are gone, and Tomoe is--"
"Back to the North Wall, as fast as the horses will carry you," Rasputin agreed without looking back, an odd smile flickering across his face. "I will remain, a humble Executor of God's will... and His wrath."
"You think you alone can hold me?" Kingu laughed, and the ground itself turned into a nexus of shimmering gold, rippling like water, beneath Rasputin's feet. Chains shot up around him, boxing him in, and through him, skewering the priest through limbs and torso, spattering blood across the ground in all directions.
Mash and Ritsuka were already retreating, no time enough to even be shocked by their ally being run through. Kingu started to move to chase them down, but--
"Though the sun may beat relentlessly, always the moon still rises, again and again," Rasputin said, yanking on the chains that ran through him, that still connected to Kingu's body -- pulling the godlike clay being to the ground. "You cannot stay it in its path, any more than you can stand against your hour of judgment."
Rasputin was infamous for having survived numerous assassination attempts in quick succession -- Ritsuka could see it in his Master's sight now that it was being used, a particular pulse to the glow that surrounded the Servant: a unique kind of Battle Continuation, of incredibly high rank.
"Go!" the priest commanded them. "I will rejoin you at the ordained moment."
Ritsuka had been the one to pause, shocked at the prospect of watching Rasputin die here in front of them after he had aided them through multiple other Singularities -- but he was the one to start moving again now, pulling on Mash's elbow. "Let's move! Give 'em hell, Kirei!"
The priest smirked. "I bring only that with which God has already burdened me in this life."
Ritsuka ran hard. After only a dozen feet, Mash scooped him up in her arms, pounding forward on her armored riding boots in great leaping bounds, making it back to the caravan in seconds. She boosted Ritsuka onto the back of a horse, used her bare hands to tear away the tethers connecting it to its wagon, and jumped on behind him.
Ritsuka raised a wand into the air as they fled -- an emergency beacon, given to them by Gilgamesh. It sent a magical flare high into the air, visible for miles around. Anyone in Hector's force who still lived and had their senses would take it as their order to pull back, and everyone at the North Wall would know to prepare for a fighting retreat.
They had scarcely made it a hundred yards from the walls of Nippur when the sky split open, and the horse carrying the Chaldeans startled and reared wildly. Ritsuka held on tight and did his best to calm the beast, using what Hector had taught him, but the stallion was mesmerized -- and terrified.
Before them, a seraphic figure descended gently from the stormy clouds, aglow with divine light. It wasn't just the aura in which Ritsuka's brain understood Servant statistics -- she gave off literal light from her body, her hair radiant in tones of orange and yellow like the sun, and four wings feathered with bloody-red quills backed her. Ritsuka was mesmerized just as their steed was, and just as chilled, as the goddess alighted onto sandaled feet.
"Is that -- Tiamat?" Mash breathed.
"You resist my Authority," the Servant -- the Avenger said. She lifted her eyes, gazing back at the city behind them, and smiled. "Ah… the hypocrite cultist, is that it? Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for long, then, not against my dearest Kingu. And it seems the rest of you are not so protected…"
Ritsuka turned numbly to see Hector's cavalry split in twain, each curving around either side of the city of Nippur, only for the two halves of comrades to crash together in battle, throwing themselves at each other with brutal, bloody fervor.
"Kingu thought it wasn't yet time for me to smash you apart," Tiamat chuckled, "But I don't see anything here that could possibly be a real threat, not to me. Besides… a girl gets bored, just waiting around for so long. So, visitors from Chaldea… what shall I do with you?"
For some reason, the threat helped refocus Ritsuka. He didn't know what was going on, everything was falling apart -- but in that moment, he was reminded that they had an enemy in front of them, and his mind reset -- figure out a way to survive Tiamat first, the greater state of the war would come later.
He grabbed Mash by the hand, at once trying to reassure her, ground her -- and feeding a new surge of energy into her via his suit's code-cast. With her there, they didn't have anything to worry about; Lord Camelot could protect them from any damage… just as long as Rasputin's protection of their mental state lasted.
Nimue and Alexander were still at the North Wall. They were the only advantage Ritsuka could bring into the situation. He just had to get to them… or get them here.
"Doctor…" he muttered into his throat mic, barely audible aloud.
"Ritsuka, Mash -- that isn't Tiamat," da Vinci hissed urgently.
"There are no reliable depictions of Tiamat visually, and I'm working off limited data, but--" Roman's voice matched da Vinci's hushed, tense tone. He gulped, just audible over the comms. "Her readings don't look anything like Inanna's, or Gilgamesh's, or even Kingu's. But we've seen similar readings before."
"Does something else demand your attention?" the Avenger asked Ritsuka. He shuddered, his whole body feeling cold and brittle beneath her withering gaze. "I must be mistaken, because it's simply impossible anything else could capture your attention while I stand in front of you, in all my splendor. No, if that were the case… I would have to kill you in the slowest, most torturous way I could imagine. But which of you first, hmm…?"
Ritsuka tried to swallow and found his throat parched, grinding his teeth together to steel himself. Mash squeezed his hand back, wringing the trembling from both their hands until their grip on each other was steady and ironclad.
"Who are you?" Ritsuka demanded.
"I am Tiamat," the goddess claimed, "I am the mother of all, beloved by all, queen of all… and I will be again, once my new children replace humanity. I have never understood the other gods' obsession with your disgusting, ungrateful kind. Perhaps, if you both drop to your knees and worship me and beg for my pardon, I will kill you quickly. Perhaps even at the same time."
"Her readings are similar to two others we've seen," Roman whispered, as if the Avenger might have been able to hear him -- Ritsuka hoped that wasn't possible. "One: the Dioscuri in the Third Singularity. And Two: Empress Nero, just before she gave up her wish on the Grail -- when she was in that state of transformation."
"I said, keep your feeble attention on me!" the Avenger yelled. She floated into the air and her wings spread, and Ritsuka shivered as he realized what he had thought were plates of armor at the joints of her wings were actually human skulls.
Lances of silvery-blue energy erupted from her wings, and Mash planted her shield in the ground, calling out to the home walls of all the Knights of the Round Table, and they rose around them, protecting them as if they were the heart of Camelot itself.
"What an infuriating shield," the Avenger spat. "I should--"
The goddess was interrupted by the roar of an engine -- but not before a black-and-gold sword punctured her chest like it had been launched from a railgun. Ritsuka had only just enough time to gape before Mash pulled him down beneath her shield as the sword exploded into a fireball.
Ritsuka's ears rang, his face stung with tiny cuts and heat. He felt more than heard a figure jump down from a saddle beside them, laying his cold metal hand on Ritsuka's shoulder.
Hector of Troy, Hector of the Shining Helm, smiled tiredly down at him, blood matting his hair to his forehead. And true to his name, he no longer wore a simple shirt of scale mail, but a cuirass of black iron with shining silver shoulder pauldrons and a matching helmet. A set of armor Ritsuka recognized: the armor of Achilles, the armor that Patroclus had worn into his final fatal battle only for Hector to take as a victory prize. It was spattered with crimson.
"Good thing Durendal is indestructible, huh?" Hector said, rolling his shoulder. His black-armored right arm was still smoking at the elbow from his rocket-propelled spear throw. "I should have known even a Phantasm Overload wouldn't be enough to rid us of that horrible woman."
"You know her," Ritsuka said. His hearing was clearing, barely.
"How could I ever forget her hideous face? She's one of the biggest reasons my city and my family suffered. That's Aphrodite, Greek goddess of love."
The goddess screamed in aimless rage, her white robes snapping around her in a hurricane of surging mana, and Mash once again planted her shield as arcs of deadly energy lashed out at them.
"You're hurt," Ritsuka observed.
"Big time," Hector laughed drily. "Tomoe's no slouch. She did a real number on me. I just wish we didn't have to… well. Best we can do for her now is a little revenge."
Ritsuka shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, we're in no position to do that, not here, not now. We have to retreat. I had Roman contact Nimue, a rescue party should be--"
"Oh yeah, I didn't say you'd be getting revenge," Hector interrupted. "You'll be retreating, along with the rest of the cavalry, now that Aphrodite's concentration's been broken."
"Wait--" Chills raced up Ritsuka's spine again. He reached out to Hector as he started forward, but the Master retracted back in on himself with a sharp grunt -- he hadn't been completely unscathed by the proximity of Hector's desperate attack, blood leaking down his side from beneath his own bronze scale mail.
The Trojan hero tapped Mash on the shoulder as he passed. "Get on that horse, and get the hell out of here."
Hector threw himself out through the phantasmal gate of Camelot, deflecting one of Aphrodite's lasers redirected at him with his orichalcum forearm, racing forward toward the enemy. She cut off her attack and beat her wings to propel her backward, keeping distance between them -- and Hector plucked Durendal from the ground where she had been standing. Sliding into a combat stance, a cone of blue fire lit from his elbow, propelling him forward in a lunging strike at the goddess.
Mash, after only a moment's debate, did as she had been told, taking Ritsuka in her arms and swinging them both up onto Hector's horse, joining the crowd of bloodied, retreating cavalry as they split around the battle between hero and goddess. Ritsuka twisted around painfully to watch the battle as long as he could, unable to do anything more than grip the edge's of Mash's plate armor white-knuckled and grind his teeth.
Chapter Text
Hector wasn't a brave man. He had never been afraid to admit that. He had never wanted to fight Achilles. The Myrmidon commander, son of an Argonaut and a goddess, trained by the very same mentor who had trained Heracles -- tales of his heroics had spread to Troy well ahead of his ships.
Hector met him in battle on that day because he had no other choice -- because he had been leading a brutal raid on the Achaeans' ships, hoping to finally push them from their shores while Achilles was absent from battle. When his shining silver armor and flowing orange scarf were spotted on the battlefield again, tearing through Trojan soldiers in front of burning ships, Hector had sounded the retreat immediately. He'd overextended. His window of opportunity had just slammed shut, and now his men were being slaughtered and if they didn't pull back now, none of them would make it back.
Gods, that terrified him. Never seeing Andromache again, or little Scamandrius. Never seeing anything again, nothing at all, not of this life at least. If Elysium was the field of heroes, and he died to Achilles, a hero without a doubt, then where would he be sent by the gods?
But Achilles didn't stop. He kept pushing and pushing, past the Trojans' defensive barricades, past the pikemen and the archers, pursuing Hector right up to the walls of Troy. He stood his ground because he was out of options -- the only thing he feared more than dying and never seeing his family again, was doing so knowing that he had allowed Achilles to follow him through the gates into the city so he could kill them, too.
And he would. Hector wanted to believe that Achilles was noble and fair, but they had said terrible things to each other over the course of the nine long years of this hellish wars. And they had done worse: stringing up the dead as warnings, kidnapping, torture and abuse. Even if Achilles refrained from these things, even if he gave orders of mercy, the others in his army weren't like him, just as the other Trojans weren't like Hector. Armies raped and pillaged and slaughtered, and those who refused to take part could only watch. Especially armies commanded by Agamemnon.
It was the hardest fight in Hector's life, Achilles. He had already butchered Sarpedon, commander of the Lycians, son of Zeus. The sky rained blood in mourning. Achilles fought like a mad lion, a feral animal. What was Hector compared to that?
Then -- the grace of the gods. A spear thrown by Euphorbos hit Achilles in the shoulder, piercing his black cuirass. Hector seized his chance. As he said: no matter how noble he liked to believe himself, the heat of war made men into monsters.
Hector gutted Achilles with his spear. He cried out in victory, in jubilation, in pure adrenaline, challenging any Achaean to challenge Troy now, declaring the great Achilles would be fed to the dogs, his head paraded around their great city on a spit while the Greeks cowered in fear. He would claim the famed Achilles' mirror-finish armor as his own trophy.
Then he came to the helmet, and saw not Achilles, but his cousin, Patroclus. And then Hector knew he was a dead man.
When Achilles came, then, demanding retribution, Hector refused. He made an excuse at first -- not until you shed those divine blessings of yours, to fight me fairly. He thought it was impossible. Unfortunately, Achilles was apparently a talented magos on top of everything else, and created his own spell to strip himself of his blessings for the duration of a duel. Hector didn’t care. When Achilles came calling, Hector ran. And they left bodies behind them piled higher than the walls of Troy, and blood so thick it choked the rivers.
Hector knew how he was remembered: a hero, a normal man with the courage and skill to stand his ground against Achilles and nearly win. That wasn't how it was. Hector only turned to face Achilles, finally, because Athena herself appeared and told him to fight with her aid. She handed him a spear, and Hector threw it. Achilles dodged, of course, and as the gates closed behind them Hector turned back for another spear from Athena -- and she was gone.
Everyone knows the rest. Achilles stripped himself of his blessings, which was a decency Hector didn't expect, though Achilles didn't do it to be decent; he did it to show the world how deadly he was, that Hector of Troy was nothing to him, and to spite him. He wore new armor, exotic in design and flaming gold in the sunlight, even outdoing his own armor that Hector now wore.
Why did he keep wearing it? Did he really think it would intimidate the other Achaeans? When every sight of it just made Achilles more and more furious? Was he really proud enough of his fight with Patroclus, interfered with by Euphorbos, to parade a trophy around?
Achilles made a big speech out of comparing himself to a lion. Saying lions and men made no covenants, and he didn't owe Hector any respect. Patroclus had fought like an animal, but contrary to his words, Achilles moved like a dancer. Like flowing water. Like Ares himself.
Hector put up a good fight. But he died all the same, and for what?
It was funny, actually. That's what broke it, in the end: Tomoe Gozen was a savage and skilled soldier, but she was no Achilles. Who was?
"--Tomoe!" Hector gasped. His head was reeling. Even before he could gather his wits about him properly, she was on him again, that great big naginata smashing down over his head, hammering Durendal down. If the damn thing wasn't unbreakable, he was sure she'd have broken it.
"Yoshitsune!" Tomoe roared, engulfed in fire. She was exuding so much heat that Hector's skin was burning, the corpses around them were catching fire. The udug gave them a wide, wide birth.
"No, not Yoshitsune, I'm--" Hector threw himself into a roll, ducking narrowly under the swipe of her tachi. Who the hell dual wielded a naginata and an odachi? He supposed it was easy with the strength of a demon.
Hector unsnapped Durendal's blade from its haft, matching her blow for blow with both hands, retreating all the time, feeling his eyebrows and beard curl at the ends from heat.
He knew this wasn't exactly easy for Tomoe, either. She was reliving her worst nightmare right now, the real one, where she'd just lost the love of her life, and now she had a chance to avenge him -- or so she thought. Hector would have done the same, if anyone had killed Andromache while he still had the faintest gasp of life's breath left in his lungs. He wasn't so different from Achilles.
But every second they grappled here, more of their men died. They were killing each other and being picked off by udug all around them. Hector didn't know what the state of the people inside Nippur was, but he didn’t guess it was all fun and games.
Then just about the worst thing happened: he watched Kingu descend from the clouds into Nippur. The only way that made sense was if they were going down to greet Ritsuka and Mash and the evacuation party personally. And suddenly, Hector was officially out of time and options, again.
"I'm sorry," he said. He flexed his fist inside its shell of orichalcum, igniting the rocket thruster at his elbow, and he started turning the tide, first matching then outmatching Tomoe in raw strength and speed, just as long as he could keep carefully timing the jets of his arm.
He stabbed past Tomoe's guard hard enough she couldn't parry, and fast enough she could barely dodge, then twisted his arm and ignited his elbow again, slicing Durendal down into her shoulder. His former ally howled in pain -- and then grabbed him by the head.
She dropped her weapons, just like that, and took a fistful of his hair. Then her other hand came up and suddenly Hector was off his feet, being lifted into the air by fiery-hot and sword-calloused hands crushing his skull.
He grunted and sputtered, kicking his feet uselessly. He'd already dropped his weapons. Stupid. Achilles would have caught one on his toe or something. Hector was just swinging between this woman's hands like a rebellious toddler -- one who had apparently behaved very, very poorly.
He could hear his skull creaking. That wasn't good. He bashed at her wrists with his orichalcum-laden arm. No good. He wondered, foggily, just how fireproof she was.
Hector raised his elbow and turned it on full blast, right into the onna-musha's face. The jet blew wide, then narrowed to an almost tangible point, turning yellow, then blue, then white. The force would have thrown Hector backward if only Tomoe hadn't been holding onto him so tightly.
She screamed and dropped him, and Hector acted on instinct, snatching up the nearest weapon -- her naginata -- and driving it through her gut with another rocket-assisted thrust.
He hadn't known he was doing it when he killed Patroclus. Strange -- he would have gladly fought and killed Patroclus just as well as Achilles, but somehow, confusing one for the other made him feel guilty about it. This felt like that, although he wasn't the one confused anymore.
"H-Hector?" Tomoe asked in a whisper, remaining eye struggling to focus.
"Yes," he answered. He tried not to focus on the damage he'd done to her once-lovely face, but he wouldn't allow himself to look away. He'd spent too much of his life ignoring the horrors he and others inflicted.
He didn't know if she realized what she'd done, what had happened, or if she only knew she was dying. "I've… failed you, Lord…" she hiccuped.
Hector grimaced. He wasn't good at comforting people. All he could do was spare her a few moments at the end, so she wasn't alone. He had wanted that.
… And for what?
Hector stood. He had to get to the Chaldeans. Whatever else this battle was turning into, whatever else happened to his new cavalry, they needed the Master of Chaldea if they were ever going to win this war.
That, he decided, was what Tomoe had died for. If she hadn't stopped Hector, even snapped him out of it completely, he might be inside the city right now, dooming them all.
It didn't feel like a very good reason. But it had to be good enough. Hector was no hero, no brave fool. He'd already done it once, and he was still afraid to die. But he was a soldier. Those kids were relying on him. He had a duty, and he was never going to abandon it.
Inanna-Usan, Lady of the Evening Star, soared above the walls of Uruk at night, after the evening sun dipped below the horizon and the purple clouds turned to indigo. She watched the torches light along the streets, reflected in the canals of the city, her city. Her duty. Her dying people. Her enduring faithful.
Her eyes crested briefly over the ziggurat of the king before she flipped and descended to her home, the temple E-anna. She arced down like a shooting star before flipping again to land lightly on her feet, her skirt and her hair whipping about with the speed of her descent. Flipping her hair back behind her shoulders with a satisfied huff, she walked through the doors of her inner chamber, expecting to see Ritsuka seeking an audience after the last battle for Nippur.
But it was not Ritsuka who stood humbly within -- it was King Gilgamesh. As she entered, his eyes fluttered open from their dozing, and he raised his head from his fist.
"What are you doing in my sanctum?" she demanded, rising from her toes back to the air and balling her fists, her hair rising around her with humming static of her divine mana.
Gilgamesh rose from the silken cushions to face her with neither fear nor anger, hands clasping behind his back, feet deprived of their sandals so that they would not tarnish Inanna's luxurious rugs and tapestries. The sight placated Inanna just a bit, so that she unclenched her fists, resumed standing on even ground, and raised her chin in a silent permission for explanation.
After a moment's delay, face angled downward but eyes never allowing themselves to leave hers, he said, "Swallowing my pride."
Inanna's first reaction was shock, her carnelian eyes going wide. Second was glee. She broke out into raucous laughter, grinning up at the taller king. "A truly monumental task that must be, worthy of the great hero!"
She flung herself into a somersault, hanging upside-down in the air as she glided slowly over his head, grinning down at him until she reached her throne, settling into it with newfound pride and satisfaction.
"You know well it is," Gilgamesh acknowledged.
Goldie? Admit his own hubris? The world is truly ending.
"I am sure you are aware of the events at Nippur," he said, "Of the appearance of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, claiming to be Tiamat, and of the loss of three Servants from the defense of Uruk."
"I'm quite aware," Inanna acknowledged. "Please, O humble steward of my mighty city -- sit. I am a goddess great and beneficent beyond all others, and will hear your plea."
His face twisted at her mocking tone, but Gilgamesh crossed his legs and sat. He looked very dour in the face, no doubt displeased at finding himself in this position after such a long resistance, but his posture remained impeccable and respectful in her presence.
"I am just as aware that, had you been present with us at Nippur, the tides may have been turned. You are… undoubtedly a greater and more… fearsome goddess than Aphrodite."
That looked like it physically pained him to say. But whether he believed it or not, whether he meant fearsome as compliment or condemnation, Inanna knew it as objective truth, and knew that the king was prostrating himself before her in all but physical action. Or as close as Gilgamesh dumu Lugalbanda would ever draw. She liked where this was going.
"Are you finally ready to make up for your disrespect? To beg my pardon and my aid?" she asked.
"I will not beg," Gilgamesh said.
"Bold of you to claim now," Inanna flashed her teeth, but she was already too pleased by this night to be overly upset at his continued stubbornness. "Barter, then? But the Lady of Victory is not cheap."
"I cannot offer you anything from my treasury as supplication. That is for my people now -- our people. Its contents are emptied to power our defenses."
"Fine." Inanna had a better idea anyway. She bit her lip, raising her chin. "Then I shall settle for your pride."
She slouched down in her plush throne, extending one leg daintily in the air toward him. "Kiss my feet," she told him. "In supplication."
Now there was a satisfying look. Gilgamesh scowled fiercely at her, scarlet eyes flashing in the low light of her chambers.
"If you truly care about Uruk," he challenged her coldly, "You will put aside your own pride and childishness, just as I am doing, and work together with me for the good of our people."
Inanna clucked her tongue dismissively and rose into the air again, until she was almost directly above him, her toes coming down gently on his bare chest. He did not stop her, hands kept obediently at his sides.
"You're no fun," she said derisively. "I find myself very disappointed that even now, at your most desperate, you still won't yield easily. But… I suppose that is what makes you Gilgamesh," she sighed fondly, and gave him a little shove with her foot, toppling him into his back. She straightened up in the air and crossed her arms and ankles, looking down at him in her victory as he pulled himself back to recline again against a stack of plush cushions, still glowering.
"That's what made you attractive in the first place, after all," she smirked. "Well, O King -- you have my blessing, and from now on, you shall be blessed by my personal cooperation. I hope you are appropriately grateful. Now, this upstart foreign goddess, who not only so presumptuously claims my mantle as the divine manifestation of beauty, but also the name of the grandmother of us all -- do we know what reason she has to… I'm sorry, are you now too old, or just too boorish, to stay awake while I'm speaking to you, and so generously offering victory to you?"
It was, she supposed, a testament to how lavish and comfortable her sanctum was -- and to how hard the King of Uruk was working himself. It was quite the turnaround from how he once was. Inanna sighed. She should have smote him where he laid, if he didn't look so attractive, vulnerable like this.
Soft-hearted, she chided herself.
"Wake up." She snapped her fingers. "I told you wake, King of Uruk!"
She crossed the short distance between them again and lowered herself over him, slapping him on the cheek gently, like she might a child. The feeling was quite satisfying. Less so when he still did not wake. She slapped him again, harder. That felt even better, for a moment.
Inanna frowned and shook him by his shoulders. Then, with that rare but well-remembered companion of icy claws digging at her stomach, she ran her fingers to his neck… and felt no heartbeat there.
"You wouldn't dare…"
Notes:
Another hiatus next week -- I've got back to back weddings to attend
Chapter 8: The Descent
Summary:
Inanna retraces her steps.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Inanna's face was drawn tight with simmering fury at the foot of the throne of Uruk. Ritsuka, Mash, Nimue, and Alexander were all assembled before her, having been brought up to speed once they had returned to the city.
"We have to go to the underworld," the goddess said, staring at the makeshift cot, almost a medical pavilion, where Gilgamesh's body had been laid on a padded palanquin, and was being tended to by her priestesses. Not prepared for funerary rites, though, not to Ritsuka's eyes -- it looked more like he was being cared for as a coma patient, washed and made comfortable.
He sucked in a breath as he realized: "Nergal's disease -- we can still save Gilgamesh...!"
Inanna nodded. "We have to go Irkalla, reclaim Gilgamesh's soul, and punish Ereshkigal for taking what's mine."
"Ereshkigal… Nergal's Queen?" Ritsuka hadn't spent the last month in Uruk idle; he'd had Roman and da Vinci teach him about the mythology of Sumer, much of which he hadn't been overly familiar with before. His studies of Irkalla had mostly revolved around Nergal, since it had seemed he was responsible for the disease in Sumer, but his wife Ereshkigal was almost as famous and powerful as he was -- moreso, in some regions and time periods.
While Inanna continued to glower, her jaw locking in a snarl, Nimue took up the conversation in her stead: "You're familiar with chain-summoning?"
"Sure..." RItsuka nodded. "Certain Servants can cause others to be summoned in direct response to their appearance. It's saved our asses before, like Sigurd being summoned by Brynhild, and Boudica being summoned in response to Nero. I was thinking about that... Ibuki-douji the oni, Tomoe Gozen the oni samurai, Samunosuke Akechi the oni-slaying samurai. Aphrodite and Hector and Leonidas. With you and Brunor I was thinking the third Triple Goddess might be Arthurian, but…"
"You forgot one category," Nimue bounced happily on her toes. "Sumerian."
"When Siduri summoned you…" Ritsuka looked at Inanna. "You're saying she accidentally chain-summoned Ereshkigal?"
"As you yourself so annoyingly pointed out, Nergal is no goddess," Inanna sighed. "So he could not be the last member of the Alliance. Besides, you have it backwards: I did not chain-summon Ereshkigal -- she was summoned by Solomon, and I was chain-summoned from her. Siduri is a great priestess, but no spellcaster… but her ritual to beg my aid was enough to act as a catalyst, once Ereshkigal was summoned."
"I cannot go with you," Alexander declared quietly.
"What?" Ritsuka blinked.
"I'm a coward," he said. "I told Hector that Nimue and I should have gone to Nippur with him. It was my fault not to follow through. If I had been there…"
"You would have what, exactly?" Nimue tilted her head, her tone chipper. "Brought our total casualties up to half our fighting force, everyone at Nippur, and three Servants, instead of two?"
"I could have done something for once!" Alexander snapped. "Even if it meant dying."
"He told you just as well as I did." Nimue didn’t turn her head, but her eyes tracked him sternly as he paced. "Your time is still coming."
Alexander shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, but I… I can't go with you. I'm sure I would only be a burden."
"You think your mood swings are so important!?" Inanna snapped. Her hair flared up into the air like fire, turning red-gold and radiant, casting light around the throne room. Alexander continued to look down at the floor, offering no further explanation, nor swaying in his choice.
Ritsuka's lip twitched, but he found himself without words. He spread his hands at his sides and let them fall again, a jerky, frustrated motion. "Fine. Stay here and mope. The lives of everyone in this city might be measurable in hours. We have to go."
After a moment, Inanna's hair died down, returning to its normal raven black floating gently around her shoulders, and and she blew out sharply through her nose. "A passionate shepherd such as yourself should indeed stay far away from this mess -- lest my own history repeat itself too closely. Only myself, Mash, and Ritsuka can enter Irkalla. Servants are, by definition, dead; and Ereshkigal has absolute power over all things dead or divine within Irkalla. The only exception to her divine Authority is living mortals -- Ritsuka and Mash. Besides, we'll need Nimue on standby; her healing skills may be the only thing that could reverse Ereshkigal's Authority of death should she decide to be just as hospitable as she was last time. Ugh… I wish Ninshubur were here…"
Alexander pursed his lips and bowed his head with humility. "I wish you all the love the gods can give you in your tasks," he murmured, excusing himself from their company.
Ritsuka shook his head and turned away, and Mash placed a comforting hand on his elbow.
Nimue reached up to place her small hands on both their shoulders, telling them, "Don't worry yourselves too much. He'll come back around."
Ritsuka just rubbed his eyes in frustration. Mash asked, "How do you know?"
"Precious girl, I'm a faerie. These pretty eyes can see the truth within people's souls. Alexander is a coward, but he'll come around, even so. Plus, I still have his Command Spells if we decide we really want him at any given moment." She winked. "Do you want to know what these eyes see in you?"
Mash blushed under her smirk, but Nimue then turned her eyes to Ritsuka. "Winners. Nothing more, and nothing less. Exactly what we need."
"Okay, so... we go to Irkalla," Ritsuka reiterated, gathering his thoughts back to him with a long inhale. "You said it's a physical place -- to the north, right? How do we get there?"
"I don't think we need to go that far," Nimue said.
"Girsu," Inanna nodded. "I agree. Normally we'd go at least as far as Kutha, but with all the undead that were gathering in Girsu, it has to be connected to Irkalla already."
"Are we going by sledge or boat?" Ritsuka asked.
"Neither, silly!" Nimue laughed. Her mouth opened into a wide curve, revealing elongated, slender incisors that coolly reminded Ritsuka she was not human, but -- "I'm the Lady of the Lake, remember? We're going to be traveling by Infinity Mirror this time. Luckily, I set one up in Girsu back before Nergal's disease set in, and the undead haven't been smart enough to disrupt it."
"I'll meet you there," Inanna said.
"That's great," Mash said. "What do we need to do?"
Nimue took them both by the wrists and led them down the stairs behind the throne, down into the decorative pool where soft pink flowers floated, so they were all knee-deep in the waters of Uruk. She leaned in, and this close, Ritsuka could see as Nimue's eyes drank the two of them in, dark slit-liked faerie pupils expanding.
"Close your eyes," she whispered. "All things are connected by the summer waters. That's just as true here as it is in Britain, in Greece and Rome… the Inner Sea of the world connects all life that once sprang from it. Do you feel that? A thread of sweet wind is here. Feel your destination… and open your eyes."
Ritsuka blinked his eyes open, and they were standing in a courtyard not unlike those of Uruk, in a decorative pool the canals flowed in and out of. Girsu was more intact than it had seemed from a distance, during their journey with Gilgamesh to the coast; most of the buildings were largely intact, though very few were undamaged, and the outer walls of the city, as well as the temple at the heart of the city, had been completely pulverized. The craters that dotted the city, forming new pools of water between the damaged canals, made the scene almost peaceful, with one exception: there were more undead milling about the city, slowly recuperating from Inanna's thinning of their numbers. Luckily they were scattered and uncoordinated, and posed little threat to Mash. A few minutes later, Inanna descended from the skies to join them.
"Okay then," he smiled. "That's step one. Step two… How do we get to Irkalla? Is there a tunnel or something?"
"In a manner of speaking…" A smirk tugged at the curve of Inanna's mouth. "I'll open the way."
She dropped the three of them -- Ritsuka, Mash, and Nimue -- about a mile outside the city of Girsu while she darted high into the sky above it. Ritsuka lost track of Inanna herself, but it was impossible to miss what she wrought. A light sparked high above, like Venus in an evening sky; the clouds turned dark and began to circle above the city, and then a spear of light like a thunderbolt, like an arrow from God, struck from above.
However many undead may have reassembled after Inanna's previous attack, they weren't an issue anymore; the entirety of the city of Girsu, this time, was turned into smoke and dust, a pillar of fiery backwash reaching up into the sky. Ritsuka knew, looking at it, he was watching a partial Noble Phantasm release -- probably the most Inanna could manage without a Master, and likely very tiring for her -- that still outclassed some full Noble Phantasms he had witnessed.
Inanna descended to them again a minute later, curving crimson patterns like tiger stripes covering her body like tattoos, slowly fading. "Come on," she jerked her head toward the crater which had been a city only a few moments ago.
The slopes of the crater were still warm to the touch, smooth and glassy as they descended. At the bottom, the earth gave way to what appeared to be a great cavern beneath. Inanna carried Ritsuka and Mash gently down to the cavern floor, shrouded in cold darkness, but illuminated by tall cages filled with blue fire.
"Souls," Inanna explained. "Those to be held for punishment, instead of allowed to pass on to Abzu, or those who fear the Abyss and need time and safe haven before making the final transition. But there are too many…"
Ritsuka followed her gaze around as his eyes adjusted to the dimness; he began to spot the blue fires in the distance in every direction, under rock bridges and up tiered slopes, orderly rows giving way to tight clusters and then to being scattered haphazardly wherever the terrain allowed.
Inanna shook her head. "She's caging everyone. Kutha, Kish, Nippur…"
"Could she cage Servants?" Ritsuka asked.
"I don't think so…" Inanna worried her lip, undoubtedly a habit of her host rather than the goddess. "Servants are too ephemeral, too closely held by the Throne. But if a Servant was killed down here, in her domain itself…"
She proceeded onward, trodding slowly on foot rather than floating. Her thick, glossy hair fell down her back and shoulders heavily, no longer seeming like flowing water or flickering flame. Ritsuka took that as a bad sign.
"You're a Pseudoservant," he said. "Do you think that gives you some measure of protection?"
"Perhaps," she allowed. "What matters is that Siduri's safety is guaranteed. But we'll find out soon enough… the first gate is already just up ahead."
"At the risk of offending you, this… didn't end well for you last time." Ritsuka chewed his lip. "Roman gave me a brief account of the adventure, but…"
"Is it too much to ask that not every detail of our lives be transcribed for future generations to pore over?" Inanna groaned. "… Yes, I believe sharing this body with Siduri will protect me from death, unlike last time. But it will not be easy. As we pass through each of the seven gates of Irkalla, something will be taken from us. A price must be paid."
"Let me pay it," Ritsuka volunteered immediately. "I'm the least useful of the three of us already. If I'm weak or incapacitated, we're still operating as well as we can be."
"You provide both of us with energy," Inanna reminded him.
"Let me," Mash interjected. "As a Shielder, I'm the most resilient."
"I'm the most resilient," Inanna corrected. "But anyway, we don't get a choice -- I'm the only one with divinity, the only kind of sacrifice Ereshkigal will accept."
Inanna floated below the arch of the first gate, slowed as if passing through gelatin, then tensed and curled slightly on herself, stumbling through the other side on her feet.
"Inanna -- are you okay?" Ritsuka asked.
"I'm fine," she coughed. "Since such an important part of my myth includes many of my Authorities being taken away from me the last time I was here, I don't have that many as a Servant, and the ones I do still have aren't strictly by divine right. I have the trappings -- the horned crown, the lapis lazuli amulet, the golden armlet -- but they're not the real things. The good news is, it seems like Ereshkigal can't take away the Authorities I do have. Instead, I'm just being… sapped. It hurts, and I can feel my power ebbing away."
"Is there a way around the gates?" Mash asked. "If we keep going…"
"It's fine," Inanna waved it away. "I expected something like this. I was never going to be much use down here in the face of Ereshkigal's absolute Authority, remember? At least this time I get to keep my clothes… not that I have anything to be ashamed of without them. Maybe that's all she learned last time. Too bad for you two."
With that, the goddess straightened up, cocked her hip, smirked -- she settled back into the image of the self-assured goddess incapable of losing. The strength to maintain her pride and image, if nothing else, reassured Ritsuka slightly.
"Come on through," she invited.
Side by side, Ritsuka and Mash stepped through the gate -- and Ritsuka found himself caught, tense, like his limbs were being held taught by strings, or chains.
"Answer me, you who live."
The voice reverberated within Ritsuka's skull. It was the second time in as many days he felt something slithering in his mind, and it set his teeth on edge.
"It's okay!" Inanna told them, stopping Mash from overreacting. "The gates act as judgment, remember. Its only purpose is to evaluate Fujimaru's soul." A shadow crossed her face for a moment. "It's weird that it didn't stop you though, Mash. Maybe because you're a Demiservant?"
"Ereshkigal or Inanna -- who is more beautiful?" the gate asked.
"What did you say!?" Inanna bristled. "What the hell kind of question is that!? Ugh… Just… pick the answer that's easier, Fujimaru. Even if you say something you don't believe, that's its own kind of answer for the gate, and Ereshkigal should be satisfied. Goddesses naturally enjoy submission just as much as legitimate worship."
Ritsuka ground his molars together. "Are you kidding? There's no comparison -- Inanna-Kakkabi is the most beautiful goddess of all."
"Fool!"
Instantly, he felt pain lance down his body from his temples to his toes, lurching forward as he was suddenly released. His jaw throbbed, his fingers shook, and his heart beat erratically at the pain.
"You idiot!" Inanna berated him, grabbing one arm to steady him just as Mash did the other. "I told you to just appease her! You don't have to stand up for me. What use is it for you to willingly suffer this punishment?"
"Screw that," Ritsuka said, his voice quavering a bit. He bit down on it, gulped, steadied his tenor. "You've protected the people of Mesopotamia. Stayed by our side. You're suffering to get us down here, to revive Gilgamesh, for the good of Uruk. Ereshkigal wants to play games and make me stroke her ego? I won't give her the satisfaction."
Inanna's lips contorted, fighting against itself to twist into either a grin or a grimace. "She's not just playing games or flattering herself. It's not born of arrogance. I think Ereshkigal is more desperate for affection than most of us."
"What do you mean?" It helped to focus on her melodic voice, on the feeling of the ground beneath his feet as they began to walk.
"She's had a difficult life. Her parents were killed in the war with Tiamat and her offspring. Then, when she came of age and Enlil finally gave her dowry to her, her crown and Authority, she only found it came with being stuck down here forever, in the dark. Never worshiped by humans, only feared."
"You sound like you really empathize with her." What Ritsuka couldn't figure out was why. According to the myths, Inanna had descended into Irkalla to take Ereshkigal's Authority over death for herself, as she had done with An's and Enki's Authorities, and Ereshkigal had humiliated, tortured, and killed the other goddess. It didn't paint a nice picture of either of them, but it certainly didn't position them as caring for each other.
But Inanna said, "Of course I do -- she's my sister."
"She's what? Why didn't you mention this before?"
"It doesn’t matter," she denied. "… Enlil was the one who took her in, as chief of the gods. But he was often too busy, so she was really raised by his son, Nanna, and his wife Ningal -- my parents."
"I'm sorry, Inanna. This must be more difficult for you than I thought."
"Nothing's difficult for the Lady of Victory," she quipped back automatically. "But… it's not exactly pleasant. The last time we met didn't go very well, as you said."
"Exactly how long has Ereshkigal been stuck down here?" Ritsuka asked.
"Since she came of age to marry Nergal," Inanna said. "But gods have long lives. I may look to be in the prime of my life, and due to my Authority I always will, but I came of age well before Gilgamesh was even born -- which was over a century ago."
"Talk about a cougar," Ritsuka joked.
"I still prefer lioness, but I can't say that isn't accurate," Inanna shrugged good-naturedly.
"Hardly! Creatures such as they are fierce and live in communion with nature, their beauty is not sullied by greed and privilege."
Ritsuka knew that voice. So did Inanna. Her first instinct was to throw her arm as if tossing a rock, loosing a jet of brilliant light at King Gilgamesh.
"How impolite," he grumbled after dodging the lazy shot, "As expected of Inanna-Kur."
Inanna the Mountain, they knew from their mystic codes. Ritsuka had a feeling it probably wasn't the favorite title of the goddess so proud of her beauty and femininity. Gilgamesh seemed to cultivate a talent for that.
"Are you lost without the stars to guide you, Chaldeans? Do you require a more experienced guide than this troublesome goddess?"
"You're looking great for dead," Ritsuka sighed with relief.
"I feel more energetic than I have in months, unburdened from pesky notions of age or lack of sleep," he grinned.
"Great," Inanna muttered. "Here I thought maybe dying, of all things, would humble him."
"We thought Ereshkigal would have captured you in one of her cages," Mash said.
"Kuhahaha!" Gilgamesh roared with mirth. "I have been to Irkalla several times before. The gallu are not difficult to fool and evade, once you know them. And knowing you two as I do, I knew you would be reckless enough to pursue me."
"Actually, it was Inanna's idea."
"Why'd you have to go and tell him that?"
"Still -- dead as I currently am, I am ultimately still subject to Ereshkigal's will," Gilgamesh said. "Your mission has not changed: warriors of Chaldea, I charge you to go forth through the gates of the underworld, and defeat Ereshkigal in my name!"
"Ryoukai!" Ritsuka snapped, then paused. "King Gilgamesh… I'm sorry for what happened at Nippur."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"We lost… almost everyone," Ritsuka said. "Including three Servants, and I couldn't--"
"Fool, I know well what happened," Gilgamesh silenced him. "I mean, what are you talking about, apologizing? For what? The great cedar gate of Nippur, which Enkidu and I built with our own hands, has finally fallen, but it will not be the last time in this war that we are surprised, or overpowered, or that great monuments and great soldiers are lost forever. And we did not lose almost everyone -- you saved the majority of the cavalry you arrived with, because of your quick decision to retreat. Every one of those lives is a victory. And if that is not enough to sate your desire for victory, then recall that it is because of your bravery that we now know the True Name of our enemy, because of your eyes that we know her mind-influencing Noble Phantasm, and because of your distraction that Lancer was able to wound her, and delay her assault on Uruk."
Gilgamesh was right -- they had saved most of the cavalry, by some fluke. But Hector, Tomoe, and Rasputin were all gone. And the people of Nippur…
And yet…
"There is no shame, to feel pride in this," Gilgamesh said sternly, quieter, reaching out to grasp both the Chaldeans by the shoulders. "I do not place faith in others easily, and I certainly do not hand out trust as pity. You have proven yourselves, both at Nippur and in six other Singularities before. You made the best of a situation for which there was no good solution. You chose to save lives from dying senselessly, to be spent more wisely, at a time of their choosing. For those who would have died in the throes of nightmares, at the hands of their brothers, that is a great gift indeed."
Ritsuka swallowed hard, and allowed himself to smile. "Thank you, Gilgamesh. God -- I never would have imagined this -- you, us, like this -- back in Singularity X."
A strange chagrin crossed his face. "I have not always been a worthy king."
"Tell me about it," Inanna smirked.
"Now then, let us proceed," Gilgamesh said. "I shall graciously allow the second gate of Irkalla to question you."
Each gate was more or less the same -- they challenged Ritsuka to compare Ereshkigal and Inanna and find one lacking, and each time he refused to play her game, even as the pain made him lightheaded and unsteadied his steps, and as Inanna became increasingly frustrated with his stubbornness.
"I'm already weak enough! We don't need you to be down for the count, too!"
Gilgamesh didn't seem to share her frustration. He simply said, "Be sure to watch your step, if you have chosen to proceed as thus. Should you fall into Abzu, even we will not be able to save you. Not even Ereshkigal could, were she so inclined."
"What exactly is Abzu?" Ritsuka asked, hoping to focus on something to clear the dull buzzing from his mind. "You called it the Abyss. Is it like the Void in magecraft?"
"You may know it better as the Inner Sea of the Planet," Gilgamesh clarified. "The primordial sea from which all life on this world originated."
Ritsuka's throat mic chirped, and Roman joined the conversation again, childlike wonder in his voice. "As in, the same Inner Sea that True Ancestors, faeries, and other elementals come from?"
"Yes, although as the world developed and life evolved, regional differences arose," the King explained, "Our Irkalla and Caster's Avalon are vastly different places, yet still connected, and fulfilling similar purposes."
"Tiamat and Abzu were the gods of the Abyss," Inanna added, "The first of the earthly Annunaki, the first life to rise from those waters. Mesopotamians have a habit of conflating the names of gods with places and weapons they're associated with. Tiamat was seen as the goddess of the aboveground saltwater sea, while Abzu was the god of the belowground fresh waters -- and also the night sky, space. Early Mesopotamians believed they were the same thing, that the Earth was submerged in and surrounded by the waters of the Abyss, far above as well as below."
"And Tiamat and Abzu eventually decided to kill the other gods, and humanity?"
"The mingling of their waters gave rise to Lahmu and Lahamu, then Anshar and Kishar, and finally to An and Ki, the Sky and the Earth," Gilgamesh said. "From An and Ki's union, then, the other gods sprang forth -- Enlil, Ninlil, Enki, Aruru, and their children, the heavenly Igigi. Unfortunately, Abzu began to find all this new life terribly noisy, and moved to exterminate them through a great flood, but Enki, with his keen insight, prevented total tragedy, and preemptively bound Abzu's soul. In retaliation, Tiamat birthed eleven new offspring to wage war against the other gods -- with a child named Kingu as her general. In the end, Enlil slew Tiamat, earning his place as Chief of the Gods."
"Enlil?" Ritsuka asked. "I thought Marduk killed Tiamat."
"Pay no mind to that now," Gilgamesh frowned. "We shall speak more of it once we leave Irkalla."
After a moment, Mash turned to Inanna. "So you're not actually the daughter of An?"
"All the Igigi could be considered An's children -- but, I have always been his favorite," she smiled.
"Even after stealing his temple and Authority," Gilgamesh muttered.
"I passed the trials to reach An's domain fairly, and he named me the rightful successor to Heaven, and to E-anna, if you recall, old man."
"How could I forget that my city was once watched over by the great Sky, rather than his most troublesome daughter?" Gilgamesh said drily. "And was it fair how you took the Authorities of Truth, Victory, Wisdom, Law, Priestliness, Kingship, and so many more from Enki after getting him blind drunk?"
"All is fair in the face of victory," Inanna shrugged. "All the other gods, even Enki himself, once he sobered up, recognized it as such. They thought it was hilarious. Besides, I recall a certain King who ruled much the same way, taking whatever he wished from whomever he cared."
"I don't seem to recall, myself." Gilgamesh kept his face perfectly stoic, a single eyebrow raised in mild curiosity, pushing on to the final gate. Ritsuka let out a tired breath and stepped into the gate's maw.
"There is no reward in faith. Prayers are only offerings. People are slaves to the gods, toiling fruitlessly. Which goddess has earned the right to accept these efforts?"
"I haven't seen you do anything except spread a cold and collect pets," Ritsuka ground out. "Inanna has earned her worship."
He bit down in preparation for the jolt of pain, and wasn't left disappointed: he barked out in pain as his muscles contorted and he stumbled forward, barely remaining on his feet due to the steadying arms of King Gilgamesh.
"I find no end of amusement in your stubbornness," the King smirked.
"I've been… hanging out with Kay too much…" Ritsuka mumbled.
"This is it," Inanna said quietly. "The throne of Kurnugi."
It didn't look like much; a sunken pit of stone rings, like a quarry, or an amphitheatre, surrounded by numerous flame-wreathed braziers and spikes. Aside from its sheer size, there wasn't much grand about it, except at the bottom of the formation, where a single figure waited on the rightmost of two identical thrones, tall obelisks of black stone and precious gems.
Ereshkigal was striking and regal, with blonde hair like Gilgamesh's cutting through the dimness of the underworld. She wore a black crown, similar to Inanna's, but instead of bull's horns curving victoriously upward, ram's horns curled downward, partially obscured beneath the royal blue hooded cloak she wore about her shoulders. Beneath the cloak she wore a long, single-sleeved dress of black fleece, ornamented with silver earrings and amulets in the shapes of skulls, and matching bangles and anklets like vertebrae. In every aspect, Inanna appeared as her mirror image, a splash of daring white and red and gold in the darkness.
"I wasn't expecting you to be foolish enough to come to me," she said, crossing her legs so that the visitors could observe the armor that encased her leg up to her thigh, and know that she was no mere administrator. She was also, Ritsuka could see, an Avenger-class Servant -- she wouldn't be an easy opponent by any means. "But then, I also wasn't expecting the King of Uruk to be so weak already that he would die from my curse so soon."
"That's my cloak!" Inanna hissed.
"Fairly claimed through victory, wasn't it?" Ereshkigal returned with a sneer.
"Why did you join the Triple Goddess Alliance?" Ritsuka asked the Queen of the Underworld. "If humanity is wiped out, what do you gain? The cages don't seem like good company."
"You're just as impetuous in person as you were at each of the gates," the goddess observed. "My power is great, but my reach is limited -- while the other goddesses could not approach me without being completely subject to my Authority, nor could I leave Irkalla to confront them personally. I was summoned without a host body, you see, since I am a goddess of the dead, and so I have even less freedom now than I did before."
That was true, Ritsuka could see -- the halo of light around her was less contained, more hazy than Inanna's. Not necessarily more powerful, but… different. A Divided Spirit, a portion of the goddess manifested on its own, not a Divine Spirit contained within a host body.
"An alliance was the obvious move for all sides, to keep us from having to worry about each other," Ereshkigal said. "I was planning to simply swallow Uruk whole and claim the Grail before them. But I don't have to explain anything to you -- it is you who must answer to the judges of the underworld, the Anunna."
She clapped her hands resoundingly, the sound ringing out through the stone halls of Irkalla like thunder -- but nothing happened.
"Anunna!" Ereshkigal shouted. "Attend me! Mortals must stand trial!"
Ritsuka braced for combat -- and silence continued to fill Irkalla. Silence, that is, until Gilgamesh's slow, throaty laughter lifted up into the air above the throne, rising into a full bellow.
"Kuhahaha!" the King tossed his head back, grinning broadly over crossed arms. "Unfortunately for you, the Anunna have been replaced!"
"What? When? By whom?" Ereshkigal demanded.
"As for who made the decision, that would be Enlil and the other gods in council," Gilgamesh said, wiping a tear from his eye -- or at least pretending for show. "And as for when -- the moment you killed me, of course!"
"Of course!" Roman nearly shouted into Ritsuka's ear. "After his death in the Epic, Gilgamesh was appointed as King of the Dead!"
"And you waited until now to tell us!?" Inanna demanded.
Gil bellowed with laughter again, tossing his head back. "For my duty and my callowness, the gods have doomed me in death to enjoy neither heavenly pleasures nor mortal rest, but to hold court here as the ferryman, gatekeeper, and judge of the dead -- with the authority to pass judgment on even you, Ereshkigal the Servant!"
"What kind of joke is this!?" the Avenger demanded again, reaching out toward Gil -- with no effect. Whatever exacting command she had over the dead, her newly-appointed judge was apparently entitled to some form of immunity, whether due to his own position or her nature as a Servant -- a ghost herself.
"One I find most pleasing at the moment, if a bit distasteful," Gilgamesh grinned. "I hereby pardon these mortals, and task you to stand trial yourself, Ereshkigal!"
"On what charge do you dare to think you can question the Queen of the Underworld?"
"The highest of charges -- treason! Betrayal of humanity and the world, which all the gods are bound to shepherd, and your duty. What have you to say in your defense, O Queen?"
"I have not betrayed humanity, much less the world," Ereshkigal claimed. She obviously seethed at the audacity to question her, but whatever authority Gilgamesh now held, she answered to it, however reluctantly. "When humans die, they come here, and here I can cage them and keep them, safe from the beasts, gods and goddesses, and even Solomon and his plans. That has always been my duty!"
Ritsuka couldn't help but scoff, and Gilgamesh looked to him to answer the Queen of the Dead. "I've heard it before. The Wolf King said the same thing -- housing souls to keep them safe from the Incineration of Humanity. But that isn't humanity, what he wanted for them -- what you're doing to them."
Ereshkigal jabbed her finger out toward Inanna, accusing. "While my sister soars free, evading now even the King of Mages' limitations, I continue to carry out the same eternal and thankless duties I always have -- protecting the underworld and the souls within it! I am faultless!"
"Cease your whining!" Gilgamesh barked. "You, yourself, chose to uphold your duty in the underworld all this time, yet now you bemoan it. You step aside and allow the Triple Goddess Alliance to advance on humanity. You sabotage Uruk's resistance to that fate. All so that you may show your pain to others. At all seven gates you have begged for pity. But it was your ceaseless work in defiance of that pain which was worth praising -- until now."
"You're just the same as all the rest, gods and humans alike! And you -- my own sister -- you come here to steal what you could not last time!"
"I didn't come here to take your crown!" Inanna shouted, her hair blazing into red flame. "I came because I-- Because--!"
"Save me your lies!" Ereshkigal's hood blew back and her own hair rose opposite Inanna's, igniting into blue fire like the soul cages she surrounded herself with. "You didn't speak a word when I was given this oh-so-generous dowry! You never understood me, not as children, and certainly not as queen of this wretched cave! I have had enough! I will no longer answer to you, to Enlil, to anyone!"
She slammed her fist down and red lightning arced across Irkalla. Ritsuka instinctively covered his head, but he and Mash were safe -- either because they were alive or because they had been pardoned by Gilgamesh, he didn't know. Inanna was not so lucky. She cried out as the lightning struck her, arched backward and collapsed to the cavernous floor, smoke rising from her body.
"Master!" Mash called out, bringing her shield to bear and stepping in front of him, blocking needle-like spears of red light as they appeared at Ereshkigal's fingertips, spun and shot toward them. Phantasmal skeletons with demonic features began to pour into the amphitheatre -- gallu spirits, Ritsuka assumed, at Ereshkigal's command.
Ritsuka snatched the red-hilted sword from Mash's hip and swung out as one closed in -- and was almost surprised to find it cut true, the spirit bisected and fading into nothingness before him. Mash slammed another one away, shattering its bones into pieces, and Ritsuka spun to confront another --
Before he could parry the incoming skeletal claws, the creature was thrown aside by the broad flat of Gilgamesh's great golden axe. The King moved with strength and speed equal to any Servant as more gallu descended upon them, warding off spirits by the dozen with great sweeps of his weapon. He did not aim any lethal strikes, but threw them back with his raw strength, with bare hands when his weapon was too cumbersome.
"We cannot stay on defense!" Gilgamesh called out. "And I cannot act against Ereshkigal!"
"Mash!" Ritsuka grabbed her shoulder, surging energy into her. "Offense! Hold her!"
"What about--"
"Gil's got me. I've got an idea."
Mash needed little else. She hesitated only a split second before charging forward through the gallu, straight toward Ereshkigal. The goddess was powerful, but she didn't have the same raw strength as Inanna, and as long as it was against Mash, a living being, she didn't have any of her other advantages. Ereshkigal grasped a spear that shone like the setting sun as Mash reached her and began to trade blows.
"Inanna!" Ritsuka crouched over her.
She was collapsed, half-conscious. "I told you… I'm no use here…"
"Bullshit," Ritsuka said. "You're Inanna-Agusaya, the goddess of war. You just need a little help."
He extended his hand. "Hear these words: my will bolsters your body, and your strength shapes my fate. If you heed humanity's call…"
She looked up at him, still dazed, and bit down on her lip. "If Gil can swallow his pride, I can too… My Authority is to be all that is good and just. My oath is to answer your prayer, and bring you victory over all that is evil."
A rush of energy erupted at their fingertips. Inanna's hair flared up like fire again as her tattoos burst into life glowing red-hot with magic. She opened her eyes, for a moment a blinding star-like gold before fading to their normal divine scarlet, and the patterning across her bronze skin vanished as breathtaking heat raced up Ritsuka's forearm.
Instinctively, he peeled up the sleeves of his Rayshift uniform, and found that the same tiger-stripe stigmata had engraved themselves up the length of his own left forearm -- Inanna's Command Spells.
"By my Command Spell--!" Ritsuka gulped down his faltering breath and immediately raised his hand high, red light shining through the underworld. "Grant us victory, Inanna!"
He was still kneeling, his head beginning to reel from the feeling of energy rushing out of him and into her, but Inanna was floating above him now, hair flickering like an inferno, eyes shining gold, those tiger-like tattoos back and giving her a spiked, deadly appearance. "Don't worry -- I promise not to drain you dry."
She was still a Divine Servant, a long-dead goddess subject to Ereshkigal's Authority over the underworld, but with her own remaining Authorities, the Command Spell empowering her, and Ritsuka funneling her all the energy he could muster as he collapsed to his hands, Inanna shot across the battlefield to join Mash. Outside of Irkalla, she was still one of the most powerful divinities in Mesopotamia, bolstered by being a Servant on her home soil where she was still actively worshiped; Ritsuka hoped it was enough to even the odds.
Ereshkigal forced Mash to retreat backwards with a hail of red spikes, then lashed out at the approaching Inanna with her spear of dying sunlight. In Inanna's hand appeared a great mace, seven entwined serpents with lapiz lazuli for eyes, and she slammed Ereshkigal's spear upwards in a parry, swinging the mace around her head and back again to attack. Ereshkigal spun her spear in a blur, parried in turn, and jabbed out. Ritsuka saw now why they called Inanna a dancer in battle, why they called war itself a dance in her honor: she spun and twirled like a brutal ballet, striking at Ereshkigal whenever Mash was pushed back, sliding around the other goddess to split her attention, commanding the battle by her positioning and tenacity alone.
But even peerless skill was not enough to overcome everything stacked against her in Irkalla. Ritsuka gasped for breath as he bled energy into Inanna, and her chest heaved with effort, Siduri's skin shone with painfully mortal sweat.
"Do not bow to her, warrior of Chaldea!" Gilgamesh barked, pulling on Ritsuka's shoulder. "Your King bids you stand!"
As he pulled him to his feet, Ritsuka's head swam with dizziness as he felt energy suddenly flood into him, and through him, back out into Inanna -- Gilgamesh was pouring energy into him, a flood of it.
"Rayshift mystic code is nearing critical limits!" da Vinci warned, "It was never designed to channel that kind of energy that fast!"
"The limitations of your rudimentary magecraft do not apply to one of my skill," Gilgamesh said. "I will not damage the suit -- or Ritsuka."
The Queen of Irkalla had no Master, no Noble Phantasm at her disposal to counter Inanna's. Gilgamesh and Inanna had intimated Ereshkigal was nearly invincible here in the seat of her power, but there had to be a limit.
Ritsuka gritted his teeth and clenched his fist again. "By my second Command Spell, Inanna -- take her down!"
Inanna's mace glinted in the light of blue and red flames and sped faster through the air. "Shield Ritsuka!" she called out to Mash, and threw her mace down with all her might, tossing up chunks of rock and knocking Ereshkigal backwards. She raised her hand, a shining red ring-hilted spear of her own appearing in her palm, and Ritsuka's eyes saw: her mace was a divine weapon of its own, but that spear--
"Master!" Mash barked, sliding to a protective position in front of him and Gilgamesh.
Ritsuka's hand slotted comfortably over her shoulder plate, the other Command Spells there igniting as Mash summoned her own Noble Phantasm.
"I stand amidst disaster," she whispered. "Lord Camelot!"
The walls of the white city rose up around them as the ceiling of Irkalla split open above Inanna, revealing a whirling galaxy of stars, the brightest of them all shining down on the tip of her upraised spear, her Noble Phantasm.
"From the Heavens to the Earth -- Ebih Quliptu Gaz!"
The star crashed down upon their heads, striking like a meteor into the heart of Irkalla. Ritsuka screwed his eyes shut against the blinding light that obliterated the gallu large and small. The feeling in his stomach was like being pulled in two different directions, Gilgamesh still showering him with energy and him pouring it all into Inanna, fueling her Noble Phantasm. When it was finally over, he felt like throwing up, and he felt like he had nothing to expel.
When the stars ceased dancing in front of Ritsuka's eyes, Inanna stood over Ereshkigal, laid out on the ground with Inanna's mace hovering over her. The Queen of Irkalla's fine golden hair was dulled with dust from the ground where she laid, from the explosion that had extinguished the pale blue fires and melted the braziers surrounding Kurnugi. Her exquisite midnight robes were torn and singed at the edges, cuts and bruises on the exposed portions of the goddess's skin remained there as Ritsuka watched, blood dripping to the ground only to evaporate into spiritrons. She was not mortally wounded, but she was not healing; they had found her limit, and Ereshkigal knew it, lying still beneath the mace. Even still, the goddess glared defiantly up at her sister.
"Finish it," she spat. "Just kill me. A fitting end for a goddess of Sumer swayed by the King of Mages to conquer Uruk."
"Will you not even attempt to give us a reason to spare your life?" Gilgamesh asked.
"I will not beg, despite what you think of me," she said. "It would be a foul thing for the goddess of death to reject death itself in the end."
"Wait," Ritsuka said.
"Master--" Mash started to argue.
Ereshkigal herself beat her to it. "I am bound by contract to the Triple Goddess Alliance. I can't betray them by helping you in any way. You'll have to kill me."
"I won't ask Inanna to kill her own sister," Ritsuka said.
Mash pursed her lips, looking toward the goddesses. She didn't have any family to speak of -- but maybe that only made the statement hit her harder. Without a real family of her own, to lose Roman, or da Vinci, or Ritsuka would have devastated her.
"You aren't helping us," Inanna said, "We've beaten you, and we're going to take whatever we need. Starting with your admission: you don't hate humanity, do you? You love it."
"Of course not," she spat and glowered. "I don't care about humans or their pathetic lives on the surface. I only care about my charges in this land -- this sky without stars, these waters without reflection, this soil without flowers. My personal world of perfect repose."
"Then why seek to protect humans from Incineration?" Gilgamesh challenged. "Ereshkigal, Queen of the Dead, you have always been a stalwart protector of souls. I told you before -- you discharged all your duties with care, and in your hands, the people of Sumer have never had to fear torment or agony in death. Avengers are born of hatred and love in equal measure; there are those like that counterfeit Tiamat… and there are those like you."
"I've killed thousands of humans since being summoned," she continued to argue.
"What are you talking about?" Gilgamesh challenged, his lip curling into a smug smile. "They may be dead, but every single human who has collapsed from your plague has been stored safely in Uruk."
"What?" the goddess gasped.
"Ibuki-douji and the udug have been far more detrimental to the war than you! And were your curse to be lifted…" Gilgamesh grinned. "Nearly all the peoples of Kutha and Girsu, and more from every kingdom in Sumer -- by my estimates you hold at least fifty-thousand men and women able and willing to fight, and you could wake them all instantly."
Ereshkigal stared up at her sister, searching for a way out of this situation -- a way for her to win, if not physically, then at least ideologically, with her pride intact.
"They'll still die," she finally said. "You'll all die. Every last one of you, screaming."
"Maybe so," Inanna nodded. "But we'll die fighting."
"So I should let you all fight and die pointless, painful deaths and face Incineration anyway? Why? I'm supposed to safeguard the dead! It's supposed to be an earned rest."
"You'll let them because they chose this, and you love them," Inanna said softly. "You don't love corpses -- you love humans, exactly because they will all die, but fight to live anyway. You love them just like I do."
"Don't compare us," Ereshkigal said. "So their choice must be respected, but mine does not matter?"
"Of course it does," Inanna said. Slowly, she raised her mace away from Ereshkigal, then dismissed it entirely. "You told us already, you don't fear death. I can't compel you. And… You're my sister. I can't… I won't force you."
Ereshkigal bit down hard, choking on her words. Ritsuka recognized her look well enough -- torn between fury and grief. "If I release them, I may die anyway for breaking the contract."
Inanna nodded solemnly, offering her hand. "It's still your choice to make."
Ereshkigal reached up hesitantly, letting Inanna pull her to her feet. She exchanged a long, uneasy look with her sister before finally turning to the rest of them. "You should all leave here -- especially you two. Mortals are not meant to tread here. I may not have Authority over you, but this place drains the very life from your bones if you linger. Go, all of you. I will prepare to open the soul cages."
"Ereshkigal--" Inanna started.
"And watch yourself most of all, sister. If you get yourself killed, I won't hesitate to step into that vessel of yours."
Ritsuka couldn't tell if it was a further threat against her, or a promise to help them if Inanna failed. The two goddesses watched each other for another long moment, neither knowing what to do, until Inanna finally turned back to her companions and said, "Come on. We should return to Uruk."
Gilgamesh only nodded. Ritsuka followed his lead, walking with them away from the throne of Irkalla.
"Go on back through the gates, as fast as you can," Gilgamesh said. "I am but a soul. When Ereshkigal releases us, I will see you back in Uruk."
The two Chaldeans started back, but--
"Inanna," Gilgamesh held up his hand. "Linger a moment. I would have words with you."
She motioned their companions to continue on, crossing her arms. "What is it, Goldie?"
"You were finally able to see your sister without being stripped naked and humiliated," he smirked. "Truly a novel experience for you. You must be relieved."
"And you must be disappointed." Inanna glowered at him, but she was too tired now to threaten him, even in jest. Besides -- he was right. "I'm glad we were able to talk a little… resolve some things, in a roundabout fashion. It's… a start."
"Yes, something you utterly failed to obtain the last time," he continued. "Your foolish pride would not even allow you to explain yourself, and it almost doomed you again here, even with all the hindsight of a Servant."
Her lip raised and her eyes rolled, but casting his gaze downward, Gilgamesh added, "Yet I have certainly been no different. Your concern for your sister after so long is praiseworthy, and not something I would have expected from you, neither then nor even now. So as Judge of the Dead, I offer you pardon, Inanna."
"Pardon me?" she scoffed. "Of what crime?"
"Trespassing? Assaulting the Queen of Kurnugi? Simple pride?" he shrugged. "For endangering the people of Uruk, and… for the death of Enkidu. I have held it against you for too long, when it was the decision of all the gods -- and the consequence only of our arrogance."
Inanna lifted her chin. "I reject your pardon. You forget yourself. King of the Dead you may be, but I am not mortal, and my Authority over Kingship is still unquestioned; I am not your petitioner, and my forgiveness must be bought fairly. I want to hear you beg."
Inanna hadn't meant to bite back quite so fiercely, but it was an instinct deeply ingrained in her. To her surprise, Gilgamesh was silent for his part, staring off into the Abyss rather than rising again to answer her fire with fire. It would have been easier if he had fought back. In his silence, she was left with the cold knowledge that it was he, not her, who had tried to take the first step toward reconciliation between them, even if it had not been the step she wanted.
The thought only aggravated her even further, and she had shown enough tolerance already. Inanna turned on her heel and pushed off from the soil of the underworld, heading back to Girsu.
Notes:
Yes, I included Hidemitsu Samunosuke Akechi in this fic because I loved playing Onimusha when I was growing up. But also, he's kind of a really cool historic figure. Did you know that he supposedly had his samurai armor forged out of metal, and styled like a western knight? So anyway, I imbued him with a bit of the game series' fictional oni-slaying mythology.
Chapter 9: Dancing Among Stars
Chapter Text
Nimue's Water Mirror made a very short trip of the return to Uruk, although they had to trek by foot to Umma, the nearest city to Girsu, first. The Water Mirror in Girsu had been completely vaporized by Inanna.
By the time they made it to Umma, it had already been an extremely long day and a half. Ritsuka could feel it in his lower back, a bit in his hip, in the thigh that was scarred from Camelot, the femur of which had probably been ever-so-slightly cracked.
Fuck. He felt old. So… worn-down.
Although Uruk welcomed them back as heroes, Gilgamesh heartily announcing a citywide feast to celebrate their deeds and his own return, Ritsuka was too drained to enjoy it for long. He ate his fill, then went back to his room and did some light exercises and stretches for his legs, hips and back, which usually helped. He gave up before the last of his usual set, as tired as he was. Leonidas would have been disappointed. Hector probably would have been, too.
Actually, Hector probably would have shrugged it off and told him he deserved to take it easy. He missed Hector. Leonidas, too.
He knew it was the nature of Heroic Spirits, ghost liners, to be ephemeral, a glimpse of another time and place choosing to answer a Master's need, but it still struck him sometimes: just how many people they'd met, and lost, over the course of their adventures. Even if they met again, those Servants would never remember the times before. Even with the Servants who had been summoned to Chaldea, there were so many others Ritsuka would never meet again… and even those would be gone, one day.
Would da Vinci, too? One day, would Roman and Ritsuka be left all alone, the only ones who remembered what they had been through here?
That was a dark place for his mind to wander. For Galahad to actually leave Mash, she'd have to be…
There were others in Chaldea, too -- Duston and Sylvia, Soria and Mao, Jingle… They were friends, still there, still relying on them. Ritsuka had to keep his head on straight. He couldn't afford to falter. He just needed to rest.
Unfortunately, Inanna pushed through the wool curtain to his room in E-anna with her typical confidence, so he wasn't getting sleep just yet.
"This is ironic," he smiled despite himself. "Do you have questions for me tonight?"
"No," the goddess shrugged, "But this has become a little tradition, hasn't it? I thought we'd keep up with it. Especially since you don't seem to be having much luck sleeping."
"I was just about to go to bed, actually. I'd enjoy talking for a bit first, though."
"Right. You left the feast to supposedly sleep a couple hours ago, you know."
"Oh," Ritsuka grimaced. "Isn't it funny how you can be so exhausted sometimes that it becomes hard to fall asleep?"
"I take it this isn't an unusual occurrence."
"Exercise usually helps," Ritsuka skirted the prompt.
"Exercise is good," Inanna agreed, "But not when you're already worked to the bone."
"It's not that bad."
"Don't lie to a goddess," Inanna told him. "You're supplying energy to two Servants now, and the battle in Irkalla took everything you had. Even with six Holy Grails helping you, they're each sustaining another Servant already, and they're all the way back in Chaldea. I saw how clumsy you were with your food."
Ritsuka flexed his hands. They still felt shaky, stiff, almost numb. "That's just something I get now and again," he lied.
"Yeah, it's called circuit burn, or nerve necrosis in more clinical terms," Inanna said. She floated over to him and settled herself down on the bed next to him. "Allow me to praise your dedication -- and condemn your lack of self-care."
"I don't not care," Ritsuka argued sullenly. "Trust me, I care. I want to live. I want everyone to live. Contracting with you made sense, and you needed everything we had today. I can handle pushing myself once in a while."
Inanna hummed, unconvinced. She was leaning in close to him, like she was inspecting him. This close, he could see subtle sparkles in her makeup -- gemstones ground to a fine powder, dark blue around her red eyes, crimson on her lips. He'd been surprised at first to see her, a proud goddess of war, wearing mascara, eyeshadow, or lipstick at all, but she was equally proud of her beauty and femininity, and that apparently included accessorizing, not just flaunting her natural charms. Ritsuka all of a sudden became quite aware again of how literally stunning she was… and how he was wearing nothing but his skin-tight Rayshift bodyglove at the moment. Although, in her skirt, chest wrap, and armlets, she wasn't wearing much more -- which didn't help either.
"I have a better idea," she declared suddenly.
"What's that?" he asked, glad for the break in the silence.
"Well, I've noticed one more problem you've got."
"Oh, good."
"You and Mash," Inanna said. From the self-satisfied twinkle in her eye, the little upturn of her lips, he must have given something away on his face when she said it. "You work well together, but you're still awkward."
"She's--" Ritsuka started to defend Mash, her circumstances, but immediately reworked his approach. Any awkwardness between them wasn't solely her fault. "Nobody's perfect; I'm certainly not. We're doing our best together, and I think we've been doing really well."
"Oh, you have," Inanna agreed, "But I was only half talking about how stiff she is, and how you don't seem to know where you want to set the boundaries with her, or where she sets hers. I was also talking about the fact that -- you never made a formal contract with her, did you?"
Ritsuka scowled. "We…"
Everything had happened so fast. Mash, trapped under that rubble, soaked in her own blood… Her hand, so cold… And then Singularity X.
"I…" Ritsuka chewed his lip. "I mean we… I guess… Maybe not? I didn't summon her -- or Galahad, I mean. We never… there was never any sort of chant, or anything."
"Mm-hmm," Inanna nodded knowingly. "So the energy pathway between you two has been imperfect; you've been losing energy and she hasn't been getting all of it, basically, like a leak. You needed a Command Spell for her to use her Noble Phantasm in Irkalla. But don't worry, it's an easy fix."
"How do you know all this?" Ritsuka asked.
She tilted her head. "I'm a Servant now. That means that, in the Throne of Heroes, I exist outside of, or across all of, time and space, in all worlds... theoretically. The Throne scrubs our memories since we couldn't contain theoretically-infinite experiences, so I can't say for sure, but it also gives us the information we need -- I think one of my hosts in some other world was an accomplished magus. She must have been, for me to bond with her."
"Helpful," Ritsuka said. "So what's the fix?"
"Why don't you come in now, Mash?" Inanna called over her shoulder. She turned back and winked at Ritsuka. "I told her to wait, but she's been listening for a while."
Mash slid the curtain closed behind her again, and Inanna clapped her hands once. Ritsuka was only more confused.
"Bounded field, for privacy," she explained, and stood. She placed a hand on a cocked hip. "Now listen: that last awkwardness between you, your botched energy pathway, your personal lack of energy, your insomnia? I can fix them all for you tonight. Personally. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Ritsuka's eyes blew wide and his cheeks flushed hot. He was at a loss for words. She couldn't possibly mean--
With a very casual, smooth run of her hands down her sides, Inanna pushed her chest wrap down from her breasts to her belt, where her thumb hooked into the golden clasps.
"Mash?" she asked, not looking away from Ritsuka, slight smile on her face, gratified by the reaction she was getting. "I think he needs some more encouragement. Do you still want this?"
Mash swallowed. "Yes."
"Then you might want to come over here," Inanna suggested. "Well, Ritsuka? Yes or no."
"I--"
"Tell me," Inanna commanded.
What the fuck is happening?
"If… Mash is okay with this?" he said dumbly.
Had he passed out from exhaustion after all?
"She just said so," Inanna sighed, pushing down on her skirt and stepping out toward Ritsuka. "I've decided I like you -- both of you. So I'm going to help you out. After all, I'm a granter of gifts and boons. That's not the only reason, of course -- I'm a greedy goddess, and I think I did well today, don't you? I deserve a little worship."
"Wait, what-- what about Siduri?" Ritsuka asked hastily.
Inanna laughed gently. "How polite. I told you before: you just have to trust that I don't make decisions with her body without Siduri's understanding and approval. She's my high priestess for a reason; a healer of spirit and body alike. I told Alexander my priestesses aren't prostitutes, but I certainly don't forbid them from exploring or granting pleasure as they see fit. Just don't get too attached, now. I'm a goddess of will and free spirit, unchained and untamed. Although… getting attached is sort of the point," she chuckled to herself.
Ritsuka bit his lip, but Inanna was right -- he had to either trust her on that, or not. "Okay. But… there's, uh… one last thing you need to know, before…"
"There's no need to answer what I didn't ask, or explain what needs no excuse," Inanna said.
"No, you should just know that--"
"I already know," she told him, silencing him with a thumb over his lips. "You have no reason to be afraid of my judgment, or ashamed of who you are. My followers rename themselves, dress, dance, sing, lay with others as men or women as their roles, and their whims, demand. The fiercest wars of all are waged within us, ourselves the only witnesses to the atrocities inflicted, the only victims as well as the victors. You're so strong. Yet never strong enough to let yourself be weak. To bare yourself and admit you need someone."
"I…" Ritsuka choked. It was hardly Mash holding them back -- it had always been him. Inanna was right.
"I know," she assured him again. She began plucking at the straps of his Rayshift suit, slowly at first, then with increasing speed as he swallowed and let her. "Let me help you. Tell me again, what you told me the first night we talked: why did you join Chaldea?"
"I… wanted to help," he said, "Make the world a better place."
"I am not a goddess of helpers," Inanna teased him, wrapping her fingers around the zipper at his collar. "Try again."
"I… I want to be a hero."
She smiled. "You are. You are strong, and handsome, and exactly as you were destined to be, Ritsuka. Let us see you."
He practically melted at her words. "You really are like a star," he said, "Blindingly radiant, and… burning hot."
Inanna smiled. "You do know what to say at times. A very good skill to have. Keep that silver tongue handy. But don't give me all your praise -- tonight, I am to share it. Now come over here, Mash, before I get carried away and claim my handsome offering all by myself."
For a while, it seemed like the only thing that existed was the soft tufts of Mash's hair, like clouds floating through Ritsuka's dreams.
"Are you okay?" he asked, gravel heavy in his voice.
"I estimate my energy reserves have expanded by at least twenty percent," Mash murmured.
"That isn't what he meant," Inanna chided softly, a smile touching her lips as she kissed her way up the other girl's hip, past her ribs. Mash shuddered and blushed. "He wants to know that you don't have any regrets, and that this won't backfire and make things even more awkward between you -- and possibly make sure you aren't upset I was involved, but we all know that can't possibly be the case."
"No, I'm--" Mash licked her chapped lips. "I'm not very good at-- at being normal. Being human. I… appreciate the assistance."
"Good," Inanna said, and reached over her to take Ritsuka's hand, placing it over Mash's chest. "Now, as for the other part -- he worries, but he needn't. You've been staring at each other in adorable bliss for minutes. Feel her pulse, how it quickens with just a touch from you. She is not about to run from you if you share yourself with her. She wants nothing more than to be here, and partake."
"That's…" Ritsuka swallowed hard. "Thanks. It's just… hard to believe, sometimes."
"None of this has to be awkward or difficult. You've accomplished harder out there, and you deserve all the reprieves you can get as we wage this war."
She rose to her feet, giving her hair a simple toss that seemed to instantly rid it of the night's tangles and muss, settling gently around her head as it if moved through water, rather than air. Inanna stretched, still nude, relishing in the attention she naturally drew from the two Chaldeans.
"Where are you--?"
"Relax, I'm just going for a walk," Inanna said. "Well, a flight. I'll be back for more later."
She left her temple and floated, for a while, above the city as much of it continued to celebrate, just a bit quieter, in smaller groups and closer in shelter from the descended night, than earlier in the evening. The joy of Uruk was sweet music to Inanna, as it should have been to its King. Yet Gilgamesh chose to lock himself up in his throne room, away from his people, poring over clay tablets even now.
Neither raising his eyes from the work on his lap nor his head from his fist, Gilgamesh only slightly raised his voice to address her as she floated into his throne room. "Are you so easily bored even of revelry itself? I thought the Chaldeans would amuse you longer."
Inanna drifted along the lush carpet unperturbed, illuminated by flickering braziers. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Gil."
He barked out a puff of laughter. "Did you not claim before that you found my obstinacy attractive?"
"You must have developed memory issues since your fall into Irkalla."
He chuckled again, finally tilting his face up to look at her. "I admit, I find you much better company as a Servant than when you were a goddess. That must be Siduri at work. Unlike you, she has always been a dedicated worker, and a kind and humble soul. To temper even a goddess, that is truly an achievement she should be proud of."
"Divine Spirits are summoned into hosts they already resemble, fool!" Inanna snarled. Even more than his constant casual dismissal, the part of her that was Siduri was incensed by her lady being placed below her, and her outrage filled Inanna.
She crossed the remaining distance to the throne, floating up directly in front of him, so she hovered a head's height above him, and grabbed the eight-pointed amulet at her chest. "When the Earth was flooded and all the gods stood by and allowed the near-extinction of humanity, who was the only one to mourn them? Who still wears this gemstone at her throat as a symbol of her vow to never allow it to happen again, even should it mean opposing all the other gods? Who chose to diminish her power within a frail mortal form to fulfill that vow and save your city? You're smarter than you look. You know all of this. But you could never admit when you were wrong, about anything or anyone."
Gilgamesh held her defiant glare for a few moments, then lowered his eyes back to his work with a sigh. "No. Anything but that. I can admit that I was a fool, that all my illustrious legends amount to nothing at all, that I failed my people, and my only friend. But if I admitted that I was wrong about you, that marrying you would not have been the end of the world, that would mean that my friend's final act, to stand with me, an act which forfeit their life, was meaningless. I can admit that I am at fault for their death, but I can never admit that."
Inanna's expression softened. She lowered herself gently onto her feet, trodding halfway up the steps to his throne and seating herself on the ground.
"Perhaps it is only my own age and wisdom that have changed," Gilgamesh admitted. "Not the wisdom of clairvoyance, but true wisdom of life and loss and fear, things I had long thought myself above."
"I've grown up, too, in the years since we last spoke," Inanna allowed. Thought not as much as I would sometimes like, she did not voice. She had younger peers amongst the gods, but not numerous, and it was her nature to always embody the fiery passion of youth. "And as a Servant from the Throne, I am a version of Inanna who has lived her entirety of her existence already, all my long life and my yet-inevitable death."
The silence of understanding companionship was not something Inanna was well-acquainted with; not since ages ago, when she had found unexpected peace with a simple shepherd. For a while, only the scratchings of Gilgamesh's tools upon the clay broke the low crackling of the braziers.
"I died yesterday," he finally said. His tone was too casual. His words dripped too slowly, like honey. "Were you afraid, at the end?"
"No," Inanna said. "I fear nothing."
He smiled at her enduring arrogance. She smiled back at this strange rapport they had built, even though his eyes remained on his tablets.
"Despite everything -- despite their pitifully short and powerless lives, despite turning away from the gods, from me -- I have always sided with humanity. So I accept the fate of the gods they have chosen for us. I respect, above all, their decision to forge their own path."
"I agree," he nodded. "Though I admit my decision to steer them away from the gods came first from my own hubris, not the principles I have grown into. I was not a good king. I understand the gods were trying to correct me with Enkidu and Humbaba and Gugalanna -- and they were correct to. Not only that, but I was not a good person. Despite Enkidu's best efforts, it was only his death that made me finally understand that the true strength of humanity, and myself, lies in our very weakness: in our fear, and our willingness to fight on anyway."
"It's beautiful," Inanna agreed. "Almost as beautiful as me."
"Almost," he echoed.
"Careful. That was almost a compliment."
"Almost."
"Are you finally sorry for turning me down?" she grinned playfully.
"No. I could not tie myself to a goddess -- not even to a goddess of freedom and humanity such as you -- if I was to lead humanity into their own future."
He heaved a heavy sigh. "But that is projecting and rationalizing. Why I rejected you in the moment was, as always, arrogance -- and fear of what you might do to me if I grew to bore you."
Inanna shrugged. "You have been many things, son of Ninsun, but rarely cowardly, and never boring. Not since the day we first met."
He chuckled at the memory. "When you cried like a brat over the snake that had taken up residence in your favorite huluppu tree and bitten you."
"And you killed it, and carved the tree into a throne fit for a goddess such as myself," Inanna recalled fondly. "That throne still stands in the center of my chambers in E-anna."
"I saw."
"You were much better behaved, back then."
"You seemed to like me when I was ill-behaved."
"On the contrary," she said, kicking off into the air gently, like floating along the surface of a pond, holding her knees in her hands. "You're a model king now, and I find I like you indeed. But -- I'm still waiting for you to properly apologize before I… pardon you."
He frowned stubbornly. "I already have."
"No," Inanna shook her head, "You have never said the words. You have still not said, I am sorry, great Lady Inanna."
He leaned back in his throne, settling the table in his hand on his knee. "Perhaps not explicitly… But you only want to finally break me, one more conquest for the mighty Inanna."
"Of course!" she gleamed. "As the goddess of victory, obviously I want to win against you. But I am also a goddess of rulership. If I thought you couldn't handle my games, or the weight of kingship, I could have truly sabotaged you long, long ago -- my tantrum with Gugalanna notwithstanding."
Gilgamesh straightened up, hands falling to his lap, as if for only the first time realizing she actually respected him.
"I'll leave you to your work, with my blessing, if you insist," she sighed breezily, stretching out and twisting to begin her way back across the throne room. "I'm glad we finally understand each other."
Chapter 10: War is Her Game
Summary:
Uruk marches to war.
Notes:
Surprise! I've been traveling so much this month I completely lost track of the days and forgot to upload this week, after not being able to last week. So while I remember, here it is!
Good news is, this is a big one. Enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Pinch me, Mash," Ritsuka muttered.
"Are… you sure?" she asked.
Ritsuka blinked, and chuckled. "It's an expression. You never heard that one?"
"Cease your useless murmurs in the King's presence!" Gilgamesh called out to them from his throne.
"Apologies, your Majesty," Ritsuka grinned. "I was just remarking on the hard-fought victory you struck by making peace."
"The traveler from afar thinks he's funny!" Inanna said, nearly as loud and imperious as Gilgamesh, reclining in the air as if she had her own invisible throne suspended above his. "Mind your tongue in the presence of a goddess, unless you are prepared to lose it should it slip too far."
Ritsuka cleared his throat, unperturbed by the threat as a reality, but minding that he probably shouldn't presume to act too chummy with the King and patron goddess of Uruk in the public eye. At least… he hoped that was the intent.
"They're scary together," he mouthed to Mash.
"Inanna-Irnina and I have held counsel," Gilgamesh continued in his commanding bellow, "And we have come up with a plan of action. I spoke to you before of Marduk."
"The god who slew Tiamat," Ritsuka said. "Or... so we understood."
"In a manner of speaking," Gilgamesh said. "Enlil, King of the Gods, laid the final blow upon Tiamat, thus cementing his position. The weapon he used in battle was called Marduk -- the sword of the sun, forged by his brother Enki. It is common enough for the weapons of gods to be deified in their own right here in Sumer -- my own axe, Shargaz; Zababa's twin swords Igalim and Shulshuga; Inanna's mace Sharur, which she stole from Ninurta--"
"Claimed," Inanna corrected again.
"The sword that slew Tiamat…" Ritsuka repeated. "So because Aphrodite has conceptually tying herself to Tiamat to make the udug… you're hoping that she'll also have made herself vulnerable to the sword."
"Hope has nothing to do with it," Gilgamesh declared. "I am the one who has seen the abyss. This is our strategy."
"Okay!" Ritsuka clapped. "What's the catch? Where is the sword being kept? Who will we have to face for it?"
"You already faced them," Gilgamesh answered. "The day you first arrived in my presence and refused to yield, even if it meant your sure death at my hands. For where else would the sword of kingship be, but safely in my own treasury?"
He raised his hand, as if raising a cup, and a golden portal opened before Ritsuka, the hilt of a sword extending from it. With a moment of hesitation, and an affirming nod from the King, Ritsuka drew the sword out. It was a thing of simplest beauty, a purity of purpose -- and hauntingly familiar, with its broad, heavy blade and thick, gently curved crossguard.
"This looks like--"
"Excalibur?" Nimue asked. "It's only natural. It's a sword made for the same purpose, forged in the same fashion. You hold in your hands the soul of the god Abzu."
Along the fuller of the blade were the cuneiform letters AMAR.UTU, or as his mystic code translated into modern Hebrew: Merodach.
"It is yours," Gilgamesh decreed, "So you need no longer disarm your own Servant to arm yourself in battle. And now you will use it to first weaken, then kill Aphrodite."
"How do we weaken her?" Mash asked.
"Oh, let me guess!" da Vinci inserted herself. "I've been thinking about this one, so let me know if I'm on the right track, here."
"Sorry," Roman's voice was quickly drowned out again.
"Ereshkigal is unable to leave Irkalla at all without a host body; Inanna always returns to rest in E-anna at night; and Aphrodite's udug come from the Cedar Forest, which is a realm of the gods according to the Epic. Is it safe to assume that divinities are bolstered -- or chained -- by a temple, and that the Cedar Forest must contain Aphrodite's?"
"That is correct," Gilgamesh nodded.
"Good job, da Vinci," Ritsuka said. Unnecessary, perhaps, but he knew she loved to be praised for her deductions.
"What other kind do I do?" He could perfectly imagine her running a proud hand through her hair, and Roman looking on with silent, chagrined affection.
"I've seen it," Inanna confirmed. "Swarming with udug, at least fifty-thousand strong this morning and growing fast."
"Not including the beasts already deployed in continuous assault against the Northern Wall," the King said. "It will not last more than a day or two against such an attack. Uruk, only a few days more. Aphrodite claims our time will come to an end in a matter of days, and she may not be wrong -- but we will be ready to meet her head-on at the North Wall with everything we have… while you, warriors of Chaldea, infiltrate the Cedar Forest with Marduk."
"What if she leads the udug herself at the North Wall?" Ritsuka asked. "If we have the sword 100 kilometers north--"
"Hah!" Inanna barked. Inclining his head, Ritsuka could see her still floating at the apex of the ziggurat, like the sun itself. "Don't fret. Inanna-belet-duri will fall to no usurper."
"You will rejoin the fight as soon as you are able," Gilgamesh said, "But your primary objective is to cut off the udug's reinforcements and weaken Aphrodite, permanently. Gods rely on worship to empower them, and their temples are the foci for that power. Make no mistake: it is the most vital part of the battle. See it done, and done swiftly."
"Then it's a plan," Ritsuka said.
Inanna-Ursug was no stranger to war. Quite the opposite. Her mere presence at the Northern Wall, arriving with a sonic thunderclap of deceleration far above, skyrocketed the morale that had been low and dangerously simmering since the combined loss of Rasputin, Tomoe, and their beloved general Hector at Nippur. With the Whirling Dancer herself watching over them, and a hundred-thousand fresh troops just woken from their comas on their way from Uruk, the soldiers defending the Northern Wall felt as if they knew no fear.
Even as she lounged uncaringly amongst them, as if she was just another fighting man, drinking and feasting and singing with them at night and watching lazily while they trained during the day, her comfort, the sheer confidence of her carelessness, buoyed their spirits.
So when the horizon turned black with hordes of udug clamoring out of the Cedar Forest, they did not flinch as they donned their bronze armor and hefted their spears and shields. Only when the thin, distant line became an imminent, crashing sea did they begin to remember their fear, the reality that many of them would never see home again.
The memory of those fears vanished again like morning mist, burned away by divine light when Inanna took the field. The seven-headed mace Sharur, Smasher of Thousands, hung heavy in her terrible left hand. The spear Baal-Rammanu, the Great Thunderer which shattered Mount Ebih, was raised on high in her right fist. Thick golden armor girded her breast and limbs, intricately and densely engraved with depictions of her own many past triumphs, inlaid with precious gems of all colors that struck dumb any who gazed upon her, so brightly did they glitter upon her form. Her hair blazed divine behind her like a signal fire to the soldiers of Sumer. The goddess's eyes shone a fierce gold that outmatched her brilliant armor, and her sharp-toothed grin shone brighter still as she dove headlong into battle.
Clouds of arrows blotted out the skies rained down on the udug from the Northern Wall. They had no fear of harming their goddess, for she could have weaved between the droplets in a storm as she laughed and laid waste to the enemy. Men entrenched in embrasures at every level of the wall struck out with long spears and kept the beasts from ascending to the archers and the artillery. Trebuchets and ballistae carved great furrows and blasted craters into the ranks of udug and from the earth beneath them, only for them to pour back into the gaps like an endless flood. And through it all Inanna danced, dealing death with every step.
It was only a matter of time before Kingu joined the fray. They shot onto the field like the crack of a whip, wreaking carnage along the top of the wall with sweeping chains of gold, smashing artillery and cleaving entire squads of men into pieces.
Inanna met them with Sharur, smashing them away from the wall. She pursued them like a bullet, and Kingu recovered swiftly and met her mid-air. The two divine beings clashed and separated and came together again over and over, leaving uncontrolled destruction in their wake -- dead udug, split helms, cracked walls.
"You're not half the fighter Enkidu was," Inanna taunted, twirling Baal-Rammanu in her hand. "But I don't make a habit of refusing sacrifices -- even against a hollow stand-in, I'll relish the chance to maul the pretty face that butchered the Bull of Heaven."
"Be careful, brazen child-goddess," Kingu rebuked her mildly. "I may not be Enkidu -- good riddance -- but this body is still the Chain of Heaven. Your own great divinity will be your humiliating defeat."
"Ha!" Inanna clenched her fists, her hair blazing bright and bloody. "Spare your concern. I am the greatest warrior of all the gods. Not even death could stop me before. Victory is my Authority, my divine right!"
She licked her lips. "So please, try your best."
The water mirror Nimue had once prepared at Kish had long since been destroyed by the ravages of the war. The first clash between Ibuki-douji and Samu-no-suke had leveled the city and scoured its canals from the soil of Sumer. Instead, Nimue took Ritsuka and Mash through another mirror of her network into Kutha. Since the city had been claimed almost overnight and in its entirety by Ereshkigal and her curse early in the war, its walls, and more importantly its pools and canals, were almost perfectly intact. From there they journeyed carefully, avoiding the continuing skirmishes around Nippur and the Northern Wall, into the western hills in the vicinity of where they first met. From there they traveled north to the mythical forest of black cedar where Humbaba had once dwelt, keeping a careful distance from the deep forest and its hordes of udug until the battle began.
Watching the main force of the udug march toward the Northern Wall was one of the longest times of Ritsuka's life. Every thunderous step felt like a chip taken out of his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. When the last of the straggling beasts were finally well away from the forest, the three descended to begin their search for Aphrodite's temple.
The trees of the forest were tall and stout, and entering it really did feel like entering another world to Ritsuka. He pulled his shamagh up tighter around his face, feeling the mana in the air thicken and intensify even further alongside the scent of wood and leaves. This was a realm of the gods; the domain of Humbaba, and the source of the wood, supposedly, which King Solomon would use to build the Temple in Jerusalem. In this time of magic and monsters, the forest spanned the entire horizon north of Kish, spreading east into what one day would be Lebanon.
Nearly half an hour -- according to Ritsuka's mystic code -- into their careful journey deeper and deeper into the black trunks, he was beginning to worry about their bearings, and the time it might take them to locate the temple, if it existed at all. But da Vinci was rarely wrong, and Nimue seemed as breezily confident as always, trodding happily alongside them, little clover flowers blooming where she stepped.
Suddenly, Mash stopped rigid, snapping her head to one side. Ritsuka's hand dropped to the hilt of Marduk, expecting as he turned to see udug creeping through the underbrush, but he saw nothing.
"... Mash?" he asked.
"I thought…" she stuttered silently, unlike her. "I thought I saw something."
"Udug?"
"No -- a white deer."
"A stag?" Nimue asked.
She hesitated, then nodded.
"The white stag is a powerful portent," Nimue said.
"Not a phantasmal beast?" Ritsuka asked carefully.
"Well... technically that, too."
"Which way, Mash?"
She nodded far to their left -- west by southwest, almost the same way they had come, and back toward the edge of the forest.
Ritsuka pressed his lips thin. If it was divine, the stag could have been the Cedar Forest itself trying to aid them somehow, to help them expunge this foreign invader from its heart. Or it could have been a trick of some kind, and they would be walking into a trap -- but if that were the case, the enemy already knew where they were.
Nimue added, "The white stag has appeared throughout the tales of the British Isles, to be seen and pursued by chosen knights -- such as a certain Galahad."
"Too specific," Ritsuka muttered. "You think we should follow it?"
"Dear, I'm a Lady of the Lake," she reminded him. "I myself am a magical portent and a bringer of prophecies. Of course I think we should follow it. But it doesn't matter what I think. I'm only an observer here. What matters is what you two decide."
That's right. Ritsuka looked at Mash, still staring after it, eyes searching for afterimages. Her lips tightened, her nostrils flared slightly, when she met his glance. She wouldn't voice it, but she wanted to see what it meant. Even with the spirit of Galahad, why should a heroic portent appear for her?
"Mash… let's follow it," Ritsuka said.
"Are you certain?" she asked, always the professional. "Da Vinci's energy readings indicate that the temple is likely further northeast."
"If we don't find anything, we can just come back again," he said. "But… a lot of weird stuff has happened to us. I'm not sure I believe in pure coincidence anymore. This could be meant to help us."
Or it could be meant to delay them, while men and women fought and died at the Northern Wall. But Ritsuka couldn't afford to let those doubts show.
Mash nodded, then stepped down and past Ritsuka from the log she had perched on, leading them through the trees after the phantom image of a white stag.
Occasionally, just when her pace slowed and she seemed to get unsure, Mash would jerk her head again, as if catching another glimpse, and start walking again with renewed vigor. Ritsuka couldn't help but find the sight somewhat enchanting -- not just the mystery and magic of the portent itself, but also Mash's uncharacteristic curiosity and focus. The way the light filtered down through the cedars and fell over her skin, tortoiseshell-like, catching on her lilac hair as it bounced... Her wide amaranth eyes lit with unusual intensity offered a gentle reassurance that, if only for her, Ritsuka was making the right call.
Eventually, Mash came to a slow stop, looking around herself. "I don't see it anymore…"
Ritsuka gently caught her by the shoulder, pointing her forward. "No… but what's that?"
They emerged into a small clearing near the eastern edge of the woods, to a pond glittering with sunlight surrounded by mossy rocks, fed by a tiny trickle of a creek. And upright in the middle of the lapping water stood a large black shield, emblazoned in white with the image of a gauntleted hand holding a sword.
"Why, he was a gentleman after all," Nimue said.
"What do you mean?" Mash asked.
But just by looking, Ritsuka knew. His Master's sight told him that this was a Noble Phantasm, a Shielder's -- Sir Brunor.
"What's it doing here?" he asked. "Where's Sir Brunor?"
"Dead," Nimue said. Her tone did not quite convey sorrow, but perhaps a kind of mild disappointment that he could no longer be part of the story they were weaving. "I'm quite sure of that. Gilgamesh felt it the moment their bond was severed. But as for the shield itself… Normally, Noble Phantasms should disappear along with their owners, and they could never be used by anyone else. But the tales of King Arthur's knights are chock full of weapons and armor being given or taken from one knight to another, of holy relics of failed quests waiting for worthy inheritors to take up and complete them. And in the first place, Brunor's shield wasn't even his -- it was brought to him by his future ladylove, who came looking for someone to avenge her father, even as she spat all manner of rude and evil things at Brunor for his ragged appearance and lack of fame at the time. It was her father's shield, and Brunor would continue to hold it as he weathered her abuse unflinchingly, until her words softened and eventually became those of love."
"Maledisant," Ritsuka reading the name of the shield like it was engraved. "The lady's nickname, from when she first appeared in court: Evil-Speaking. It wards against evil charms. That's our key to staying safe from Aphrodite's Noble Phantasm. Yeah... luck is bullshit. It's people, helping or hurting each other, all the way down."
Mash waded into the waters and picked up Maledisant, gazing at it with a kind of marvel. She may have only been a lost girl in one sense, a tool designed for a mission in another, but some part of her had deeply internalized the mantle she wore now as a member of King Arthur's Round Table, and holding a piece of its history in her hands had a palpable effect on her.
"First a sword, now a shield," she said, turning to Ritsuka with a smile and offering him the shield.
I can't use a Noble Phantasm, was the first thing that sprang to his mind, but he could see already -- Maledisant's protection was passive, and it would extend through the bond to his Servants. All he needed to do was carry it and stay close to Mash, and they would be safe. Nimue had assured them she could protect herself. So his second thought was--
"Who doesn't want to be a knight?" he said, taking the shield. It was large and heavy on his arm, but he had been training with Mash for months, and it was not nearly so large as hers; it was far from unbearable. "Bronze Sumerian scale mail, black English kiteshield, golden divine sword… I probably look like a pretty slapdash soldier, huh?"
"You look battle-ready," Mash said approvingly. She amended: "Very... dashing. I-I think."
"I'll take it," Ritsuka said, before snapping his sword and new shield to the ready, turning to the far side of the clearing, where a svelte figure emerged from the underbrush.
Alexander raised empty hands as he stepped into the sunlight. If he had been smirking it may have been more comforting, creeping out of the underbrush like that -- but then if he wasn't so serious all the time, he wouldn't have been Alexander.
"Right on time," Nimue said. "Good. Now I won't have to use a Command Spell."
"I would hate to make you waste precious resources," Alexander said ruefully.
"We thought you were staying in Uruk, to help defend if the Northern Wall fell," Mash said.
"I was, but… Ritsuka, Mash… I apologize for my behavior before." His olive shoulders stooped, but a moment later drew themselves up again, steeling himself. "Lady Inanna was right: I dishonored myself, those who died, and most importantly you, my friends, and only compounded my failures by faltering -- by shirking my responsibilities, again. I will not keep walking that same path. I would see you safely through this mission… if you would have me."
"Of course," Ritsuka said. "I can't blame you for getting overwhelmed. We're fighting off the end of the world. I just... have a little more practice than you do."
It was absurd, saying that to a Servant.
"It's good to have you back, Alexander."
"You didn't happen to scout out Aphrodite's temple for us, did you?" Nimue asked.
Alexander scratched the back of his head and grimaced, much like Hector might have. "Well… As a matter of fact…"
They followed the Rogue Archer through the wending woods until it was impossible to miss, a great Corinthian temple in the midst of the black cedars. If they hadn't discovered "Tiamat's" True Name before then, it was obvious here at the source of her power, the walls and floors covered in tiles mosaics of the Erotes and of Aphrodite herself. In some, she was beauty itself, rendered in stunning detail in vivid paints; in others, she appeared to cause physical pain to those who looked upon her, and her wings were adorned with skulls, dripping blood. Alexander ran his hands over the ridges of the temple's outermost columns in absentminded appreciation of the grandeur as Ritsuka stepped between them, feeling the Bounded Field of the temple start to push back against him like a physical wall of heat and pressure.
"This is it," Nimue said. "Time to put that sword to good use, Ritsuka."
He drew Marduk from his hip, running his eyes one more time up the golden blade, which seemed to drink in the light and radiate it out again, before leveling it at his cheek. He stabbed it forward, into the boundary, and lightning arced out across the temple as its Bounded Field utterly collapsed, burning away like paper. There was no doubt now their theory about Marduk and "Tiamat" had something to it.
"Now what do we do?" Ritsuka asked.
"Now we do as much damage as we can," Alexander guessed.
"A temple is like a capacitor for faith," Nimue said. "Somewhere inside is something that works as the primary conductor; like Inanna's huluppu throne. That's what we're looking for. That's what we need to break, preferably as magnificently as possible."
Inanna hurtled backward through the Northern Wall, ripping a great cleave in Sumer's defenses. Kingu, just as Enkidu had been, was incredibly strong, and their body was designed to weaponize divinity against itself. Every blow she made was like striking herself, an equal opposing force that swelled to overwhelm. Inanna rolled the sweet, tangy taste of blood around her mouth. She had never faced a more thrilling challenge.
The goddess twisted through the rubble like an acrobat, wrapping the Chains of Heaven around her forearm and wrenching Kingu in toward her, slamming them through the debris they had created, striking them with her mace and slipping loose of the chains again. The force of the blow threw her back again, and both divinities fell and landed heavily on the ground.
Kingu was fast, and did not seem slowed in the least by the wounds they were accumulating. Inanna's -- Siduri's -- muscles burned as they shot another volley of twisting chains toward her, and she flipped between them like a dancer. A single wrong move and those chains would hold her too tightly, utterly unbreakable against the intensity of her own divinity, each individual chain making it easier for the next to capture her. So far, she had been skillful, using guile and surprise to slip free of the chains that glanced against her, and she had been lucky, fortunate for Siduri's mortal body and spirit to lessen the chains' effects. But luck could not hold forever.
Her blood ran hot with exhilaration.
Suddenly, Kingu's head whipped around, looking north. "Mother--!"
Inanna wiped blood from her lips and smirked. "They've made it in already, huh?"
"You…" Kingu glowered at her. "Great Inanna, used as nothing more than a distraction?"
"Don't fool yourself. I was planning to kill you before they ever reached the temple."
"I'm afraid I'll have to finish playing with you another time," Kingu said, pushing off from the ground--
They were absurdly fast. But Inanna -- Inanna was a shooting star. She surged everything she had into her legs and threw herself forward on collision course with Kingu and past them, trying to drive her spear into their back as they foolishly turned away from the goddess of war.
They managed to duck and dodge, but Inanna still won: she had placed herself between Kingu and the Cedar Forest, mace and spear held wide at her sides, ready. That was one thing Enkidu, and now Kingu, had always lacked: that will to overcome, the gods' greatest gift to humanity. Siduri's adrenaline coursed through Inanna's veins, making her numb to the sharp pain of her exhaustion, feather-light and pleasantly hot-cold.
"I do not have time for your games, Inanna," Kingu growled, hovering gently off the ground, sparking with threat.
"But we're having such fun!" Inanna goaded. "Fine, then: a new game. Try to escape me. Just try to make it to them first. Let's see how fast you really are -- and see what happens when I cut those strings of yours. Let us make this a final contest between the old gods and the new -- a great race to end all races of our era!"
The picturesque exterior of Aphrodite's temple belied the horrors waiting within. The interior smelled of rotten meat; hot and slick to the touch, the floor giving just a little too much. It felt to Ritsuka like walking through the inside of a decaying corpse. Worse were the pustules that dotted the walls of the corridor; they could see shadowy shapes moving within, in various stages of stomach-churning transformation. Aphrodite was a mother of gods, not demonic beasts; to birth her army, she was capturing living creatures -- rats, snakes, wolves, wildcats, and especially wounded Sumerians -- to mutate into udug using a viscous black liquid that throbbed lethargically through arteries in the walls and ceilings.
"From what I can tell, it's similar to the Grail mud from Fuyuki," Roman confirmed grimly.
Mash's hand was firm wrapped around Ritsuka's wrist, slipping into his palm and between his fingers. He wanted to throw up, but she was stoic and kept moving steadily forward, his rock. Whether the source of her strength was sheer will to protect him or a natural immunity to the horror due to her own origins, it didn't matter in that moment; she kept him going.
In time, they emerged into a vast chamber somewhere beneath the temple. Ritsuka's lip curled beneath his shamagh as he stepped into sloshing liquid, too thick to be water and smelling of iron. In the center of the chamber was a huge fountain churning up the liquid, like the whole thing was a twisted bathhouse. And at the foot of the fountain, thin robes soaked through with sanguine bathwaters, Aphrodite waited.
"Shit," Ritsuka muttered. The hope had been to sabotage her temple to weaken her, not to face her directly. They had Marduk, but Inanna was far away. He could use a Command Spell to summon her, but it would be her last. Could Alexander handle the sword instead?
"Welcome," Aphrodite greeted them. "Please, enjoy yourselves in my baths. The anointing oils have been painstakingly gathered over the last few months."
Ritsuka snarled. "You're a monster. I'm going to kill you."
"Such fire," Aphrodite grinned. "And even without your oracle, you somehow retain your sanity in my presence…"
Maledisant rested comfortingly in Ritsuka's hand. Nimue said, "No weeds in my garden, dearie."
"No matter," she shrugged. "Angry, insane, or calm and collected, you will all die regardless. Humanity is like a swarm of insects, insignificant but for how repulsive you are. Easily crushed."
"We're repulsive?" Ritsuka threw his hands around himself. "This place is disgusting!"
"The beasts are equally revolting," the Avenger reluctantly agreed, "But a means to my ends. Garbage to dispose of garbage. You deserve each other. This world is ugly -- humanity turns away from beauty, from love, from me, the incarnation of beauty and love herself! Once everything has been swept clean, then I can start over again. A new garden, with only perfect, beautiful things."
"What the hell is everyone's problem with the world as it is?" Ritsuka demanded. "You, Solomon, the Wolf King -- do I just not get it? Maybe because I'm not so full of myself that I could explode? The rest of us don’t have the option to just snap our fingers and start the world over again. We can't even afford to shut it out for very long. We have to deal with it."
Aphrodite tutted. "Oh, of course you don't understand. Look at you -- traipsing around, pretending to be heroes, to be in love. You've lived happy, clueless little lives, devoid of meaning, of beauty. And you don't even see it."
"Happy? You don't know the first thing about us!" Ritsuka snapped, stepping toward Aphrodite, the blood sloshing around his knees. "Mash was locked in one room for the first twelve years of her life as a science experiment! The first time she saw the sun was in a Singularity! Say whatever you want about me, but don't you dare call her life meaningless!"
"Ritsuka--" Mash touched his elbow, but he yanked it away.
"You're an overgrown brat!" he continued, "Spoiled by endless worship and love you never earned, is that it? You're just angry that humanity finally learned better and moved on from you."
Rage clouded Aphrodite's regal, hawkish features. Shadows crept onto her porcelain-perfect face and tarnished her empty smile. Her wings rose behind her, feathers standing out like she was an affronted cat -- one holding the powers of a god, with skulls ornamenting her body.
"Yes, she is," Alexander agreed firmly. It was so sudden and unexpected, it shocked Ritsuka into silence. "Your love is selfish, Aphrodite: an endless, fruitless pursuit to fill the hole inside you. But your vanity forever prevents you from seeing true beauty, from finding happiness. You only take it from others, and constantly betray it. Hephaestus' good nature deserved better than you. Atalante was a proud warrior, not a prize for you to give away. You sought to possess Anchises by deceit and manipulation. Even Adonis was cut short by your own pride and anger in blinding Erymanthus."
"You…" Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, fixed on the Rogue Archer. "Who are you?"
"I'm not surprised you do not recognize me," Alexander said. "So allow me to reintroduce myself: I am Paris Alexander, son of Priam, Prince of Troy, unworthy brother of the great Hector! I am a coward, the curse of Troy, the worst thing to ever happen to Helen of Sparta and thousands of other Greeks and Trojans alike… and I was summoned here to answer for those crimes, for your crimes, against both peoples."
"The shepherd boy from Thetis' wedding," Aphrodite muttered. "Truly? Ha! Hahaha! How hilarious! And you think you can stop me? I've played with and discarded thousands of stupid humans, boy! You think you're special, that you're going to get vengeance for all of them? We only picked you as our judge because you were too stupid to realize the danger of picking between goddesses! Oh, if only the girls were here now...!"
Aphrodite continued to cackle to herself, and Paris took the moment to turn to Ritsuka and Mash. "Thank you, my friends, for your support, even when I did not deserve it, for your faith in me which I hope now to earn."
Aphrodite rose up from the fountain, spreading her skull-studded wings, still giggling madly when Paris stepped boldly forward, reaching into his robes--
"Here is your judgment!" he cried, holding aloft a large golden apple. "Do you wish to claim this prize now, Aphrodite!?"
Aphrodite's laughter was cut short as she cried out suddenly, recoiling -- as did Nimue, clutching at her chest. Ritsuka winced, feeling energy ebb from Mash and himself.
"Apologies, Master -- the Apple of Discord wreaks destruction on all sides," Paris said, "But it takes more from those with more to use, and it affects her worst of all. Nimue! Protect the Chaldeans!"
"You're one to be making demands!" Nimue snarled, but held up a hand, and the blood at their feet crested over them in a protective bubble, shielding them from a sweep of energy from Aphrodite. "Are you two okay?"
Mash nodded. "Sir Galahad does not know temptation. I can still fight."
"Good, because I'm not going to be as much help here as I thought," Nimue grimaced. "Take your Command Spell and earn your keep, Paris!"
"Give us everything you can," Ritsuka asked. "Mash -- let's go!"
When the shield fell, Ritsuka rocketed across the chamber, skidding along the waters like he was waterskiing, thrown by Mash. She followed behind in a sprint, quickly overtaking him and circling to Aphrodite's other side, drawing the red-hilted sword as Ritsuka drew Marduk. They struck out almost in unison, clanging steel against bone as Aphrodite spun and used her wings to block. She lashed out in a whirl, razor-sharp feathers scratching against the shields of Galahad and Brunor. The goddess recoiled as a trio of glass-like spikes dug into her shoulder, courtesy of Nimue. Aphrodite flapped her wings and converged a quartet of energy beams on Nimue and Paris, but the sorceress tapped her staff on the ground, and the pair instantly appeared elsewhere in the chamber. Paris swayed a little from apparent nausea.
"What are we waiting for, exactly?" Mash asked.
"An arrow guided by Apollo," Paris breathed, drawing back his bowstring. "An arrow which can overcome all obstacles to strike a mortal blow against a weak point. I just… need a little…"
"I have no weakness!" Aphrodite proclaimed in a hoarse cry, throwing bare fists against Ritsuka. The first one alone knocked him back a dozen feet, and then Mash jumped in front of him, stumbling back with each consecutive blow.
"Of course you do," Paris said calmly. "Your vanity. Your jealousy. The rage that fuels you, as an Avenger."
He lifted his aim suddenly and loosed, his arrow sailing high into the air -- and blowing a hole in the top of the chamber, allowing pure sunlight to beam down into the darkness.
And there, as the dust cleared from the crumbling temple above, Inanna floated, breathing hard, hair wild, and utterly resplendent in the light of day.
"What have I missed?" she grinned.
"So the impostor arrives!" Aphrodite sang, blocking a shield bash from Mash and blowing her back with a point-blank barrage of energy lances.
"Impostor?" Inanna repeated. "Says the woman from the island whose most important export was snails! You put shame on the word goddess! The kind of love you hold is shallow and twisted. I am Inanna-Mulanadiri, the one and only arbitrator of love and beauty in this land!"
Her tattoos and hair blazed to life, brighter than the sun at her back, and Ritsuka felt renewed vigor and confidence flow into him even as Aphrodite stumbled and grunted. Ritsuka finally had a name for that feeling of shock and wonder Inanna seemed to emanate ever since they first met: her Manifestation of Beauty, a passive skill powerful enough it could be a Noble Phantasm all its own, that inspired her allies and demoralized and actively drained her enemies. Combined with the Apple of Discord… Aphrodite wasn't having a good time, even inside her home temple.
And Ritsuka could fix that, too. While Aphrodite lashed out at Mash, he looped behind them, hoping that between Mash, Nimue, and now Inanna, splashing through the baths didn't draw too much attention to him. When he reached the fountain he lifted Marduk high over his head and brought the blade down into the stone, choosing to put all his faith into the idea that it would cut.
It did more than cut. Marduk cleaved into the fountain as if it was a sword many times its size and weight, pulsing with sunlight that burst out and made the fountain explode into rubble. The chamber around them shuddered, the fleshy ribbing covering the walls convulsing as if in shock as the center of Aphrodite's temple was destroyed.
Inanna inclined her head, raising her spear. Through the hole in the ceiling of the chamber, the sky disappeared, replaced by stars in a faraway, inky cosmos. "Now witness my final respects, paid to a fellow goddess gone astray."
Ritsuka slid through the blood to reach Nimue and Alexander as Mash did, Shielder and Caster both throwing up their defenses as the sky itself dropped through the hole in the ceiling. The offensive waters of the temple were vaporized, the porous walls burned away with the acrid stench of burning flesh. The temple mushroomed outward, bursting like a spore, Inanna's Noble Phantasm blowing the walls outward into the sea of black cedars. Chunks of rubble smashed into the Chaldean's defenses, some breaking like chalk while others splattered gorily. The world outside their small defensive perimeter was a momentary whirlwind of cosmic dust and nuclear fire. In the aftermath, real, pure groundwater began to slowly pour out of the tunnels in the walls. The cool, clean feeling was more than welcome. Ritsuka peered out from behind the shields, needing to confirm that Aphrodite was truly gone, and was relieved to see her silhouette turning to spiritrons in the breeze. He almost didn't notice as Paris collapsed to his knees.
"Hey, hey, what's happening?" Ritsuka asked, clambering over to him.
"As I said… the Apple wreaks destruction equally on both sides," he groaned. "But I lied, a little. It is I who am the most doomed by the Apple, just as it was before... But my duty is done. Thank you again… for helping me prove myself… finally worthy of calling Hector my... brother…"
"You are," Ritsuka said, grinding his teeth as the Rogue Archer closed his eyes and faded away. He felt Mash's and Nimue's hands on his shoulders, thankful for their companionship.
"It's over," he said.
"Not quite," Inanna said. "What took you so long, Kingu? I could have sworn you were faster than… What are you grinning at?"
Ritsuka dragged his eyes upward. Inanna had descended toward them, and now Kingu floated where she had, in the widening gap in the ceiling of the chamber. And they did seemed far happier than they should have.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Ritsuka's mic peaked as Roman's voice rose. "What's happening!? Instruments are going wild! We're getting indecipherable readings and disruptions all across Sumer!"
"Oh," Nimue said, and then a sound came from her mouth like a fruit being crushed, and she coughed blood onto Ritsuka's chest.
"Nimue!" Mash caught the Caster as she lurched and her feet fell out from under her.
"The King of Mages gave me an exceedingly simple task," Kingu said. "Summon six other Servants, and use them to wake Mother -- my true Mother."
Enkidu's tattoos -- they were Command Spells, Ritsuka realized, for the Triple Goddess Alliance. Their body was the living pact between them.
"The real Tiamat?" Roman asked. "But Nimue said it's not possible to summon her!"
"But she's not dead," Inanna breathed.
"What?"
"Tiamat is a being of pure creation, genesis itself," the goddess said. Ritsuka had never seen her look… scared. "Ummu-Hubur. The gods were able to defeat her, but not kill her. She was imprisoned in the Abyss."
"Trapped in a cage of dreams, forever sleeping," Kingu nodded. "So if I couldn't wake her while she was alive… then we would just have to kill her! Not even the Abyss could keep her from feeling the shock of death, something completely alien to her, reverberating from the goddess we synchronized with her, pale shadow though she may have been."
"The Abyss," Roman repeated. "Which is part of the Inner Sea of the planet -- as is Avalon!"
"Clever bastard," Nimue muttered. "When I decide someone isn't going to wake up, not many are able to circumvent me. And those who do..."
"The Persian Gulf--!" Roman yelled. "The sea levels are rising fast! The new readings are… emerging from it! There's-- there's thousands of them! Not udug--"
"Allow me to introduce my true siblings, the first of the Eleven Offspring of Tiamat," Kingu bowed dramatically, "Lahmu."
"Tell Gilgamesh what you've learned here," Nimue told them. "Ask him about the Evils of Humanity. And tell him to keep working on his attitude."
She stuck her hands down into the water at their feet, and it glowed, the entire chamber's floor of water, and suddenly Ritsuka was sinking into it, weightless, as if it was infinitely deep. The last thing he saw before the Water Mirror swallowed them was Nimue's strangely placid expression as the edges of her began to crack like glass and then disintegrate into spiritrons.
Notes:
Yes, "Merodach" from Fate/stay night is indeed the Hebrew spelling of "Marduk". Using that as the key, this is the way I have decided to reconcile the two differing ideas of the origin stories and leadership of Mesopotamian gods (in reality, of course, it is the result of cultural exchange between disparate cities and the patron gods of certain cities rising in popularity with the influence of their kings over the course of centuries). This also really is a thing that happens; although it being applicable to Sharur and Marduk are my own fiat, the example Gilgamesh gives about the sons of Zababa (also his swords) is mythically accurate. I also extended this to the spear Inanna used to level Mt Ebih in the past; Rammanu is another name/title of the god Hadad, or Iskur. Since he was "imported" into Sumer by the Amorite people and he never really gained a lot of importance due to preexisting gods already occupying the things he was revered for (namely, storms and rain, and thus, agriculture) and he was sometimes made Inanna's brother alongside the more well-known Utu, he seemed like an acceptably murky candidate for me to use.
Chapter 11: Reckoning
Summary:
Inanna races to maintain control of the the aftermath of the battle.
Chapter Text
They found themselves in a small pool just off the river that ran through the center of the alluvial plain of Sumer; in the modern age, the Persian Gulf had retreated, smaller rivers had dried up, and the Euphrates and the Tigris converged into the Shatt al-Arab at the coast, but in the times of Gilgamesh and Inanna, the Euphrates and the Tigris both emptied into the gulf long before they could converge, and numerous old rivers without name flowed from them, including this one, which flowed from the Euphrates through Kish and Nippur down to Uruk and Ur.
Ritsuka splashed gracelessly in the water, Nimue's magic already gone, coughing and sputtering, but no slower to bring himself to task. "The lahmu -- what are they?" he coughed.
"The first and strongest of Tiamat's children, after the gods," Inanna answered, "And they're coming from the gulf. Is that right?"
"Yes!" the Doctor reported over Ritsuka's comms. "Hundreds of thousands! And they're moving at frightening speeds!"
Inanna leapt into the air. "There are thousands of people still in Ur."
"Inanna!" Ritsuka shouted pulling his arm back and hucking his mic up to her. "Stay in contact! Roman, analyze everything you can from Inanna's recon!"
She caught the small device deftly in her palm and fastened it above her lapis lazuli pendant. It stayed fast there by magic, and Inanna surged away from the group at supersonic speeds, making for the coast.
"We have to get back to Gilgamesh," Ritsuka's voice came over Inanna's new comms, crisply audible even over the distance from her ears, and even though the transmitting device must have now been Mash's.
Inanna keyed hers. "Give word to the soldiers at the wall -- retreat to Uruk immediately. Leave everything behind and go now. The front is no longer to the north, but the south, and Uruk is a better citadel than the Northern Wall could ever be. Gilgamesh saw this coming."
The goddess pushed herself as hard as she could. Save, perhaps, for Kingu, she was the fastest being in all of Mesopotamia. If she had been summoned as a Rider, if she'd had the Boat of Heaven with her, she could have been there already. As it was, it took her minutes.
"What happened to Nimue?"
"Nimue is a Lady of the Lake, remember? She resides in Avalon, the Inner Sea -- connected to the Abyss, where Tiamat is held. This whole time, she must have been using that connection to keep Tiamat asleep, that's why Kingu couldn't wake her! But he succeeded anyway… and I imagine she was able to use that same connection to reach out and…"
"Fuck…!"
Minutes was too long. When Inanna arrived at Ur, clenching her teeth against the thunderclap deceleration, it was already engulfed in flames and chaos. Inanna had never seen the children of Tiamat before; she had been too young at the time, and the songs had only begun to describe their appearance, terrible and splendorous. Smooth black chitinous beasts, all sharp angles and smooth curves like they were living ferrofluid, as deep black as the Abyss yet glinting wetly in the light. They skittered around with high-pitched chittering, almost cackling with wide, toothy grins that drooled with malice and venom that steamed in the air.
It was wanton slaughter. The lahmu were toying with the humans. Some they tore apart without second thought -- no sense of hatred or hunger, but like they were children encountering ants for the first time, and the joys of sadism -- while others they threw together, wounding them until they fought and killed each other, mad from pain and overwhelmed by choas, only for the lahmu to eviscerate the victors anyway.
"They have no digestive tracts…" Roman's voice wandered in Inanna's ear, punctuated by sharp, frantic keystrokes. "No reproductive systems... Nothing. They're just pouring out of the sea… Like they're only designed to kill."
Inanna said nothing, only growled and began raining destruction. She cast down bolts of magic from her fingertips, palm-sized orbs of energy packed so densely with divine mana that they struck like mortar shells. She followed them with her mace and spear, cracking open lahmu like shellfish. She whirled and crushed and killed, gathering the survivors of Ur to her as best she could, but even as she herded the fragile surviving humans together, the lahmu kept pouring over her, and each wave seemed harder to crack than the last, evolving in real time.
Then an object flashed through the sky above her head, fast as a shooting star -- Kingu.
"Wait wait wait hold on, what's--?" Through the mic, it sounded like Roman slammed his hands down, knocking over his chair. "Inanna, you have to get Kingu, now!"
"If I leave these people--"
"He has a Grail!"
"What!?" Inanna hissed. "Are you sure?"
"I know these energy readings! Listen, even if she's awake, Tiamat has been imprisoned and dormant for ages--"
"And she still isn't here," Inanna finished. "They must be taking Solomon's Grail to her. Damn it!"
Inanna kicked off from the ground, sending down a hail of magic shots as she did so, hoping to give the people of Ur a little cover -- and her lack of care was rewarded immediately, as a group of lahmu sprouted wings and crashed into her from below. As she smashed them away with her mace, more only came upon her, now from the sides, now from above -- they had sprouted wings, and they were covering her like a cloud of frenzied locusts, bringing her back down to the ground.
Weapons invincible, the songs said.
Inanna fought, but it was like fighting against a crashing wave, even for her. She smashed her forehead through the gnashing maw of one lahmu, through whatever passed as its skull and brains and its poisonous blood stung her skin; she let go of her spear and drove her bare fist through one's body; they only became dead weight holding her down as their brethren continued to press in on her, so hard that some lahmu between them died as their carapaces cracked in the crush, and Inanna's ribs groaned and her breath came shorter and shorter.
"I bring death, and I give life. In His name shall we cast out devils and the unclean...!"
A Word rang through the air and the lahmu recoiled, as if wounded by it, and Inanna instinctively gasped for air -- and a split second later, took up her weapons and began to weave death in a circle around her.
Moments later she stood, ragged and bloody and panting through gritted teeth, dripping with the rancid ichor of the lahmu, with the Berserker of Uruk, the pseudo-Servant Rasputin, standing before her. He appeared almost as worn-down as her, stripped of his stole, his cassock frayed and unbuttoned.
"Kirei!" Roman choked. "You're alive!?"
"Whoever follows me will walk not in darkness, but will have the light of life," the pseudo-Servant grumbled calmly.
"I knew the third Spirit within you wouldn't let you die so easily," Inanna said.
Rasputin inclined his head, mild-mannered as ever. "Kingu attempted to corrupt me with the mud of the Grail, but I doubt they were expecting me to be wholly unaffected."
"Your clerical powers protect you?" Roman asked.
Rasputin smiled enigmatically. "One could call all the strange wanderings in our lives His work. For now, I shall take up the rescue operation, while Inanna pursues Kingu."
"With pleasure," she said, and burst back into the air.
Kingu was tired, and even as exhausted as she was, Inanna's blood surged with human adrenaline. She was fast than them, much faster than the lahmu. Some rose up from the sea to try and slow her, but she only cleaved them in two and left them in her wake, pursuing Kingu out over the gulf.
"It's… it's Grail Mud," Roman reported. "Not just similar, like Aphrodite's Temple, but -- these readings are identical! If anything, they make the Grail Mud look like the diluted knock-off! The entire Persian Gulf has been… corrupted. Charged with curses and raw mana."
"Abzu," Inanna said. "The Primordial Water of Life. Tiamat's Authority."
"I-I don't think she's actually free still," Roman said. "Someone like Tiamat would be visible on my sensors from a huge distance. I think she's still trapped, even if she's awake. We still have a shot."
"I have to get Kingu," Inanna grunted, willing herself to go faster, faster. She was catching up to Kingu. Just another minute…
She didn't have to wait. The lahmu who were flying somewhat in sync with Kingu suddenly turned on them, swarming them as they had Inanna before. She was so stunned by the sight she stopped dead, and could only watch as Kingu screamed in surprise and shock and their brethren tore into his clay body with their spined limbs. And she saw it -- one of them thrust its head into Kingu's ribs, and as it drew back, a flash of light between its mangled teeth -- the Holy Grail. Kingu's own heart.
The lahmu swallowed the Grail then dove toward the sea. Inanna followed desperately, but the lahmu was incredibly fast now, a nuclear reactor of divine mana in its gut, and the distance to the water was not far. Inanna hit the waves and plunged in after it. The sea was thick and foggy and it burned against Inanna's skin, but she was not going to be bested by mud, nor would she lose her target. She spotted the lahmu cutting through the water straight downward into the depths. Inanna pushed herself down with great lunges--
"Inanna! Get back get back get back get back--!"
Her heart seized and she threw herself back and up as a new shape loomed in the blackness beneath her, larger than any leviathan, and the feeling of raw mana, of threat, of dread, loomed even larger below her. For one of the only times in her life, Inanna knew what it was to be terrified.
Tiamat crested out of the waves, a titan towering over the waves, naked but for the seaweed and her own hair that clung to her body, blue like the fertile waters of he gulf itself -- before today. She rose until she was standing atop the sea of mud, skimming forward slowly, like she was being carried by the tide. Huge horns curved out from her skull, not a crown of ox's or ram's horns like Inanna and her sister had been given, but horns like a dragon, part of Tiamat's nature as a primordial beast, a force of nature. Dark scales ran down her body in lines like ribbons, and a great tail dragged behind her. The waters in her wake glowed faintly with life energy.
"Get back, Inanna!" Ritsuka urged her. "From what Roman's saying, that's not something you can handle on your own, not right now. Let's do this smart."
Inanna flushed with shame. It was not that Ritsuka was not right -- and on a better day, with a clearer head, she would have said the same thing. But the words struck deeper than they were intended, because Inanna truly didn't think she could do it. She was Inanna-Ninmesharra, so radiant that even in a human body, her power was nearly blinding to Ritsuka's Master sight. But Tiamat didn't even seem to notice her. Inanna, one of her greatest descendants, was beneath her.
But Inanna did notice something -- Kingu, floating facedown in the mud not far from her, utterly abandoned now that they had served their purpose. She could feel their life still, weak and ebbing out into the sea. Pity moved Inanna. She swam over to Kingu, took them in her arms, and flew out of the gulf, giving Tiamat a wide berth to take shelter in Ur's seaside observatory for a moment.
No one answered her shouts into the building. They must have already abandoned it -- or worse. As Inanna lowered Kingu to the ground, the room flickered with light, and Gilgamesh's visage appeared in the middle of the room. "It's about time, Inanna. You are growing slow."
"Gil?"
"I installed a communicator here when I visited with the Chaldeans."
"You knew this was coming," Inanna accused.
The King pursed his lips, shaking his head sorrowfully. "I foresaw great floods. But Tiamat… I did not know the cause. What of the Chaldeans? Are they with you?"
"... I have one of their own communicators," Inanna said. She was no good with foreign technology of the future, but she was a goddess -- when she wished for something to happen, her Divine Patterns ignited and it simply became reality. She connected Gil's magical device to the Chaldean mystic code easily enough.
"Gilgamesh!" another voice carried through his image -- Ereshkigal's voice. She had recovered from her punishment for breaking the Triple Goddess Alliance -- mostly; Inanna could still see the weakness in the set of her shoulders -- and in the time leading up to the battle with Aphrodite, had sent a Mirror of the Underworld to Gilgamesh's throne room. "Irkalla is being flooded with dead souls! What is happening?"
"It is the beginning of the end," Gilgamesh answered solemnly. "Now, Chaldeans -- tell us what has happened."
As Ritsuka began to explain, Inanna stood in the doorway, looking over Ur. The city was flooded with mud; the water levels were rising continuously, even quicker since Tiamat had emerged. Inanna had the urge to be out there, doing something, but she didn't fool herself -- she saw no lahmu circling Ur anymore, heard no more screaming or crying. There was no one left. With any luck, Rasputin was leading the survivors back to Uruk.
"I'm sorry about Nimue," Ritsuka said. "It seemed like she and Kotomine worked closely with you."
"She only meddled as she thought might entertain her. Though I will not deny she was most capable. Still, do not let it bother you, Ritsuka."
Gilgamesh shrugged off the loss, as he had to. They had already suffered many, and were suffering many more right now as they talked and discussed. Inanna knew Gilgamesh's warrior heart cried out for him to meet the danger head-on, just as hers did, but they were not only heroes -- they were leaders. They had to allow hundreds to die right now so that they could save thousands as soon as possible.
"That's a hard ask... She helped us before, too, in the Sixth Singularity."
"I said, you cannot afford to let it bother you, Ritsuka Fujimaru," Gilgamesh said sternly.
"... You're right. I'll stay focused."
"Besides, she may yet continue to be of help," Gilgamesh said. "You're sure she said those words: Evil of Humanity?"
"You know what Nimue meant?" Roman asked. "These readings from Tiamat -- they're similar to Aphrodite or Nero, but…"
"I know," the King confirmed. "What Aphrodite was, what you witnessed in the Empress in the Fifth Singularity, were merely larvae. The true Tiamat is a fully-fledged Beast of Calamity -- one of a series of seven living disasters. The more humanity develops, the more they do, like a cancer eating it away from within before finally being revealed."
"You mean like Avengers, writ large?" da Vinci postulated. "Beings who exist to destroy humanity?"
"The opposite," Gilgamesh said. "They are evils that humanity must destroy, born from their own bestial nature. They are a prime species' self-destruct system, and will destroy the world if left unchecked -- but defeating them is also necessary for humanity to reach its next stage."
"Fermi's Paradox?" da Vinci asked. "You're saying that a Beast acts like an extinction event-level manifestation of a species' self-destructive tendencies; an existential check on its evolution?"
"You will understand fully in time," Gilgamesh said. "For now, just know that they are the ultimate advent of the Heroic Spirit summoning system. Heroic Spirits exist primarily as a function of the Counter-Force to combat them, and other such existential threats to the world."
"So we can beat her," Ritsuka said.
Gilgamesh looked at him sharply, caught by surprise, then threw his head back and let his laughter bellow out and fill the throne room. In that moment, in that observatory, Inanna found it oddly comforting. "Kuhahaha! That's the spirit! Yes. The Beasts of Calamity are meant to be overcome! And so we shall."
"Wait--" Roman interjected. "Readings from the gulf are surging--!"
Inanna turned to look at Tiamat, who had advanced to what used to be the shore. The great goddess paused there, her eyes drinking in the horizon. They seemed blank and opaque like glowing spinelle, pupils like stars, bottomless and utterly unreadable, fundamentally alien. Then she tilted back her head, revealing rows of needle-like teeth, and sang. Her voice rang out, piercing into Inanna's skull. She clasped her head with her hands and fell to her knees with a gasp as the sea churned and surged, a huge tidal wave rising up behind Tiamat, large enough to swallow Ur whole.
"Rasputin--!" she grunted, throwing herself to her feet and sagging against the doorway. She shook her head clear, trying to muster the focus to take off--
"No!" Gilgamesh shouted, "Inanna, stay within the observatory, I command you!"
"Who are you to dare command me!?" the goddess demanded.
"Beletum, now -- deploy the Fangs of Uta-napishtim!"
Inanna gritted her teeth and, against her better judgment, ducked back inside the observatory as the wave crashed over it -- and parted around it, a magical shield warding the tower.
"What are the Fangs?" she asked, annoyed.
"The secret defense Caster and I were building in Larsa, based on readings and experiments from this observatory," Gilgamesh said. "A great wall to keep the Chaos Tide back from Uruk. I told you I foresaw these floods, and I did not lay idle with those visions of destruction."
"It won't last," Kingu muttered weakly.
"You're awake," Inanna observed.
Gilgamesh frowned.
"Mother will… kill you all."
Inanna crouched beside them. "Your mother has discarded you, Kingu. She is a goddess of creation, but not of love. What she makes she will only inevitably replace. She replaced Abzu with Kingu, and now she has replaced whoever you truly are with the lahmu."
"I am… Kingu…" they snarled, barely above a whisper.
"Kingu died in ages long past," Inanna reminded them. "And this body, Enkidu's body, was crafted of clay much later, by Aruru, not Tiamat, and Solomon, not her, gave you breath of life, isn't that right? The lahmu feel no brotherhood with you. Tiamat owes no loyalty to you. And even if she did -- whatever Grandmother may have once been, this is not the same goddess. This is a goddess of wrath and disaster. The only question left is… do you feel wrath?"
"No..." Gilgamesh spoke up for the first time. "The question is: now that your gods have abandoned you, as ours have us, what manner of creature will you become? Inanna, the Chaos Tide is calming, for now. Return to Uruk at once. We need your help fending off the lahmu."
"Say please," she told him.
"I will beg on my knees tonight, Daughter of Moonlight, if I live that long," the King said drily, and cut off communications.
Inanna took back the Chaldean mic from the Sumerian artifact, and strode toward the door.
"So am I… your prisoner?" Kingu asked.
The goddess paused. She seriously considered it for a moment, but with a sigh, she accepted that there was only one answer that satisfied her. "No. Siduri knew Enkidu, and knew him to be a kind and gentle being, the only one capable of calming the reckless tempers of the King of Uruk -- though not by the methods which had been first intended by the gods. From you, that heart is absent -- as is a heart of any kind, it seems. I saved you because of who you used to be, and I shall extend that mercy to this moment. But what happens to you from now on is up to you. Remain here and die, for all I care. Pursue us again, and Siduri's compassion will no longer protect you from my wrath. We buried Enkidu with honor long ago."
Inanna took to the air again without waiting for reply, flying low over the waves now that Tiamat was past Ur, both to stay beneath the lahmu's notice and to scan the area for any possible survivors.
The goddess breathed a sigh of relief as she came upon the Temple of Nanna, her own father -- there, sheltered at the top of the ziggurat, Rasputin gestured to her, keeping a group of survivors packed tightly but safely away from the corrupting waters of Abzu, holy light surrounding them.
"The Beast of Regression is upon us," Rasputin said when she descended.
Inanna nodded, hands on her hips. She must have been shameful to look at: bloody, disheveled and disgruntled. But right now, in front of these last survivors of Ur in the temple of her great father, she had to exude confidence, safety. She was the daughter of the Moon and Sky, and she was going to get them out of here.
"So it begins..." Rasputin mused. "The final battle of humanity against the Mother of the Gods; the day of reckoning which Gilgamesh foresaw six months ago."
Chapter 12: Prove
Summary:
One last night of rest in Uruk.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ritsuka wandered the halls of E-anna at night. The reprieve the city had been given as the lahmu pulled back to swarm around Tiamat only let him see the destruction they had wrought in the short time they had to assault the city. Ritsuka couldn't help feeling like it was partially his fault. Like he should have been able to figure all this out sooner -- maybe if he'd realized that Enkidu was the Master of the Triple Goddesses…
But that wasn't helpful. If even Gilgamesh and Nimue hadn't been able to figure out the details, it was stupid to think he could have. There were lots of things he could blame himself for -- but tomorrow they were going to fight again, and that's what mattered: this Singularity wasn't over yet.
So Ritsuka wandered. And, eventually, sat on the steps of the ziggurat, looking over the damaged cityscape. Fires still raged in places, being put out even as he watched.
"In returning and rest shall you be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength."
Ritsuka jumped a little at the sudden sound, but his frayed nerved were soothed by the familiar undulating baritone of Kirei Kotomine in the flame-lit night. "I know -- I should be sleeping," Ritsuka headed him off.
"Rest comes in many forms," the Servant said enigmatically. Slowly, he descended the few steps remaining to stand beside Ritsuka, then lowered himself to sit with a certain elegance born of intentionality. "What troubles you, Master of Chaldea?"
"How much time you got?"
"All night," Rasputin said with a faint, indulgent smile, utterly serious. "The everlasting moon still hangs high in God's heaven."
And true to his word, the priest remained in comfortable, patient silence for a while before Ritsuka finally admitted, "I've never done confession before."
"Do you feel yourself a sinner, Fujimaru-kun?"
"Oh, definitely. But... most of it -- I figure if there is a God, he's either an understanding and forgiving guy, or he can kick rocks. Sheesh, this conversation feels weird when there's a literal goddess right over... there somewhere."
"You said: most of it," Rasputin pointed out.
"... Re we really doing this?" Ritsuka asked.
The patient silence was his only answer.
"... It's just the same old questions, really," he said.
"And what questions are those, Fujimaru-kun?"
"What the hell am I doing here," Ritsuka shrugged. "I've never put much stock in the idea anyone's meant to do anything; I think we find our own meaning. That's what I was trying to do by joining Chaldea. But it's hard not to think now… can I really do this? If I mess this up…"
"The fate of humanity does not rest on your shoulders alone, Fujimaru-kun," Rasputin reminded him. "Do you believe in Mash's ability to fight beside you? In Doctor Romani's ability to guide you? Da Vinci's support?"
"Of course," Ritsuka said.
"Then have faith," the priest encouraged. "In quietness and trust shall be your strength. Know that they rely on you not because they simply must, but because they judge they can, and you may rely on them in turn."
"Right… I've said basically the same thing to Mash."
"Do as I say, not as I do."
"Yeah. It's just… hard, sometimes. When I already feel like… Do you think God can make mistakes when he makes us, Kotomine?"
The priest hummed low in his throat. "The Canon would have us believe that he does not. Yet… it also teaches that He has laid out obstacles for each of us in our lives. God's will is beyond men to understand. Is it our natures, or our choices which define us? Who is to say that it is not the way you are now, rather than the way you were born, which God had intended all along?"
"...That seems cruel," Ritsuka said.
Rasputin surprised him by agreeing. "It does. I, myself, was born wrong. I find joy only in despair, and only despair in joy. No heart beats within this chest -- not since my first death in the Fourth Holy Grail War -- only a black void, a fitting fate for one such as I, reflecting how I have always been in truth. I believe God must have made me this way for some reason; all that was left to me was to choose how to live, and to try and understand why."
Ritsuka searched his craggy face, fires flickering faintly in his dark eyes. "Did you?"
"Understand? No. But choose -- of course. We must always choose. Even to refuse a choice is to make one. The Kotomine Kirei before you chose to continue in his toil according to the teachings of God, to resist temptation as he was raised, accepting his twisted and conflicted nature as his destined labors. And in return, I was given this second life, first by God, and then by Rasputin. A fellow wolf, attempting to live as a shepherd; a kindred spirit filled with regret."
"Regret?"
"He was a selfish man, a base and sinful man," Rasputin nodded. "He did not do justice to the robes he wore. But neither did he intend the harm to others he ultimately brought; he feels responsible for the fate that befell the Romanovs, whom he gave his word to guide and protect, and meant to keep it even as he indulged in their lap of luxury. He has a wish of his own in this second life of ours, but outside of that single desire, he is lost and searching for new purpose, a reason he was chosen -- as am I. That purpose he has chosen is in allowing me to search for mine… and the purpose which I have chosen is to help you fulfill yours; to be the shepherd that Rasputin could not be."
"But… it doesn't make you happy," Ritsuka said.
Kotomine smiled. "I, too, am a base man. In life, I quite enjoyed working as an Executor, hunting heretics, Dead Apostles and rogue magi; and here, I have enjoyed rooting out cultists of the Triple Goddess Alliance and taken some small pleasure in the slaughter of udug. The task I have chosen, to foster you, Fujimaru-kun, brings me no joy itself, but it provides me… purpose."
Ritsuka frowned. So he was… what? Happy to see Ritsuka depressed like this?
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I am interested to see what choices you shall make in your own journey," Kotomine said. "How you will define yourself, in the end. David could only finally see clearly the man he truly was when he was told of two strangers; perhaps I may yet find my own answer. So, Fujimaru-kun: do you believe I am a mistake?"
Ritsuka blinked slowly, licking his lips. "I don't believe anyone is a mistake," he said finally. "I think the choice you've made is… a noble one. Everyone has thoughts, but you control what you do with them. And I think… I still believe in being me. Despite everything, I wouldn't want to be anyone else. I just… want to be a better version of me."
"Do not conform to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. You are already well on the way, Fujimaru Ritsuka," Rasputin said, standing. "I am eager to see the rest of your journey."
The priest departed, and after a few more minutes of contemplation, Ritsuka pushed himself to his feet and returned to E-anna. Inanna was not there, but Mash was, sitting on his bed in the dark, watching the city through the window.
"I'm sorry I snuck out," Ritsuka apologized. "I hope you weren't worried."
Mash tilted her head slightly, as if considering the idea. "I wasn't," she finally said, almost surprised.
Ritsuka was too, a little. "You finally know we're not going to abandon you?" he teased.
"No," she shook her head, still too serious. "But I choose to trust that you won't."
"Yeah." Ritsuka sat next to her. "Thanks for waiting for me, Mash."
"I wasn't waiting for you," she denied. "But… now that you're back… we should sleep. Together. It's going to be a difficult mission tomorrow."
"Are you worried?"
"No," Mash shook her head again. "Not since you took my hand. No matter what happens tomorrow, we'll be together. And together, I think we can win."
Kingu finally settled down on a highrise some distance from Uruk late just before dawn -- and by "settled down", that was to say that they finally let go of the last of their strength and fell unceremoniously from the sky after hours of listless flight.
The being made from stolen clay now cracked and withering once more hauled themself up just enough to gaze at the lights of the city, their limbs shaking, their head barely strong enough to raise their eyes. Why they wished for this city to be their last sight was beyond them. They wanted to tell themself it was because this was the sight of their enemy, which would soon be smashed by their Mother. But that rang hollow in their ears, ever since Inanna's words.
There was a hole. A hole in Kingu's chest. Not just where Solomon's Grail had been torn from their body and fed to Tiamat, but deeper. There was a pit in Kingu's stomach, a void in their spirit they had felt growing since their first trip to that observatory -- since facing the King of Uruk on the sands. Kingu was alone.
They were constructed from three parts, bound together with a Saint Graph not unlike that of a Servant: the body of Enkidu, the Holy Grail, and the soul of the very first Demon Lord of Solomon, Bael. The 72 Demons were of a different existence from humanity, sharing a wholeness, a unity despite being individually named by Solomon in ancient times. Kingu's creation had been a necessary investiture for their most important plan, but they could no longer be called Sabnock, nor a demon at all; yet still they felt isolated and cold, unused to the agonizing separation that was mortal existence. That pain was so all-consuming that the ragged cavity in their breast seemed of little consequence save to slow them down. The only thought that seemed to quell that feeling was the idea of dying here, looking at Uruk.
"Pathetic."
Although they were in line with Kingu's thoughts, they were not their words. They twisted their head with considerable effort to see the King of Uruk himself standing not far away, fist on his hip.
Kingu began to laugh. It seemed so... fitting. "Have you come… to finish me yourself, O King? Or to… reclaim these crumbling remains?"
"Neither," he said, shaking his head in disgust. "I have come only to clean a stain on my lands."
Kingu closed their eyes. This was it, then.
"Put yourself together. I won't tolerate you making a mess on my beautiful soil."
A hefty object dropped to the ground before Kingu. They opened their eyes, bleary, confused, tired, but the shape and soft glow of a Holy Grail was unmistakable.
"What…?"
"You may not be Enkidu..." Gilgamesh said, taking a knee beside the dying eidolon of clay. "You may be inhuman, pompous, even an enemy of Uruk. Yet you are still a sentient, living creature, struggling to survive in the same world as I. That alone makes you worthy of my protection."
"I'm not… I don't…"
"Hmph." Gilgamesh pushed himself back to his feet. "Refuse my generosity if you wish. The best thing you could do to honor it, and your predecessor whose body you have been entrusted with, is to determine your own future for yourself, not follow the orders of others -- not even myself."
Gilgamesh turned away from the dying creature and began walking. He had said his piece. Perhaps Kingu was not Enkidu, but he had been given a chance, in a way, to have one final, albeit short and onesided, conversation with his oldest and best friend. He couldn't help but think -- perhaps just hope -- that Enkidu would have approved of the action.
Gilgamesh made his way back to his city, walking unhurriedly across the plains, through the gates and streets. This kingdom was his home, every stone and every ripple of water, his duty to protect and his only important guide. He did not hide his face, but greeted the soldiers at the gate, beneficently if not warmly, as he had on the way out. He waved and smiled conspiratorially at children who saw him from their windows. Siduri had always told him he should take more time for his own passing interests, more time outside of the palace.
Did always tell him, he corrected himself. Even as odd as it was seeing Siduri acting out in Inanna's shameless fashion, Siduri was still there. More protected than anyone else in Uruk, perhaps.
The city was packed now -- thousands of refugees from everywhere between Ur and Nippur joined the hundreds that still lived from everywhere north of the Wall, in addition to the dozens of thousands of souls freed from Irkalla. Uruk had not been built to accommodate almost three times its normal population, but Gilgamesh had busied himself for months creating new efficient housing wherever space was available, including the now-substantial keep beneath the ziggurat. All of Sumer, what was left of its nearly million glorious citizens, was crammed into a single kingdom. It was desperate and cramped, but in a way, it glowed with the unrestrained zeal of humanity.
When he ascended the ziggurat and returned to his throne room, who else could possibly be waiting for him but Inanna, draping Siduri's body lazily across his throne?
"Have you come to petition me for some favor?" he asked, not modifying his pace whatsoever. "You will have to beg, with how many headaches you have caused me in recent conversations alone."
"I do not beg," she said simply. "Besides, I believe you said you would be the one kneeling tonight. No, I come to graciously offer you comfort."
"Need I remind you again what fate usually befalls those you offer comfort to?"
"Need I remind you the fate that befell you the last time you refused?" she replied, sharp-tongued as ever. But she removed the playful fingernail from her teeth as she added, "I watched your little trip to the outskirts."
"Eavesdropping, Inanna? That hardly seems to suit a goddess -- but I suppose it would fit, then."
"Don't deflect. Do you really think that an enemy wearing the skin of your friend deserves such kindness?"
Gilgamesh paused, examining the food left on the side table for him. Most of it had gone largely untouched in the rush of events today -- save for what Inanna had helped herself to in his absence.
Finally he said, "I do. Perhaps that is not befitting the king of my people, nor a warrior seeking victory over the enemy tomorrow. Does that mean you finally retract your blessing?"
Inanna pushed herself to her feet, deigning to pad on bare feet over the tiles of the throne room. "You're out of luck, Goldie. A generous heart is the most foundational quality of a good king -- although it took you long enough to remember. You're stuck with me, now."
She stopped, rotating slightly on her toes as he walked past her, biting into a fruit that still looked bright and waxy.
"Pity," he said. "I was hoping Ereshkigal would make good on her threat to take Siduri's body from you. Is she well?"
"She is. But I don't wish to talk about my sister."
"Oh? I assumed you only wished to further harass me. Was I wrong?"
"You were, in fact, far from the first time. I was wondering, actually, if you would accept one last blessing from me."
"Ha!" Gilgamesh threw his head back, took a vigorous bite of the food, and cast it aside, reclaiming his place on the throne. "What is this mood that has struck you, so-called goddess of victory, to proposition me in one word, and bemoan our chances of survival in the next?"
She did not meet his eyes, then.
"Ah." He sighed. "So then, you mean this blessing of yours would certainly be my last, but not yours."
She raised her eyes to him, full of pain. He expected to see pity there, or perhaps the rising sting of her bruised ego -- but he saw genuine empathy. She did not want to consider that his end was approaching fast, but she knew it was, just as surely as he did.
He took a deep breath, recrossing his legs and settling more comfortably into his throne. "I will admit -- I have always found Siduri an attractive woman."
"Not good enough, and you know it," Inanna said, snapping right back into form, hands clasped behind her back as she approached him.
He chuckled. "Do you expect me to finally break now, simply because death looms before me? Because I will not."
She tilted her head. "I've decided I don't care anymore. It was foolish of me to seek victory over you still -- now, we seek victory together. And to my own surprise… I find that satisfying enough. The hardest-earned victory of all, I think, is simply to re-learn how to be loved."
Gilgamesh leaned back as she confidently ascended the steps of the dais. "I wonder… if you meant, in that moment, to reveal something about yourself, or if you truly believed you were speaking only of me."
The goddess tossed her hair, unflinching. "What love have I ever lacked? You have spoken of it often enough -- I have always been bathed in the adoration of gods and humans alike."
"Yet receiving and accepting are not the same," Gilgamesh said, which she knew well. It was her own domain, after all. "I spoke harshly of you, the last time we stepped to this tune. About Dumuzid."
Inanna pursed her lips, halting in her advance. "You spoke the truth: I gave my husband to the gallu, to take my place in Irkalla, and I did not mourn him, as he did not mourn me before my escape from death."
"No, you did not mourn him -- instead you tracked down the specific gallu who took him and turned them into his funerary libations, then made a deal with Ereshkigal for him to spend half his afterlife in the heavens instead."
"Are you suddenly defending my reputation?" Inanna snapped.
"Enki take my tongue for a fool if that were ever the case," he said drily. Then he added: "And yet, I find myself acting the fool around you all too often. But like you, I should know better than to try and make you admit to sensitivity."
"Careful, that was almost a compliment again," she warned.
"Oh, my apologies. Then let me be more clear: despite our past differences, in this moment, it seems to me that your reputation for justice and benevolence is unimpeachable, and you don't need me to defend it, nor anyone."
"Trying to make a goddess blush? You'll be hard-pressed to put me on the back foot, O King."
"Did we not just agree neither of us are interested any longer in competition? All that remains for us now is this victory you claim is assured."
"You doubt me?"
"I doubt you could ever admit your own victory is anything but certain."
Inanna bent over him, sliding her hands up the arms of the throne of Uruk, bringing her blood-red eyes close to his. Her lips parted and she promised softly, "I can show you right now, if you wish."
"I must be a fool after all," he murmured back, "For I believe you."
"Foolishness is a tributary of bravery." She lifted a knee onto his and, smirking, froze again. "You need only tell me."
But Gilgamesh's will was ironclad, as was his grip on the arms of his throne, even as Inanna's wandered up his biceps. "Still seeking victory after all?"
"Not seeking mine," she said. "I am, quite graciously, not asking you to beg. But I invite you to embrace your own victory."
Gilgamesh closed his eyes. For so much of his life, there had been Enkidu. Before them, Gilgamesh has never known anyone who understood him, not even his parents. Enkidu had understood Gilgamesh's impulsive behaviors, the disgust with the very divine privilege that defined him, the ideals and hopes for humanity and a better, self-actualizing world, before Gilgamesh himself had figured it out. There had never been so steadfast a partner. But Enkidu was gone, and their wise soul had already moved on into the Abyss, returning to the cycle of death and rebirth. Gilgamesh would not see them again in his tenure as King of the Dead, if Irkalla even survived the next sunset. There was no fault in that. All things came to an end; Gilgamesh would have had to be an even bigger fool than he was to have not learned that simple lesson from Enkidu's death and his doomed search for immortality.
After seeing no trace of Enkidu in Irkalla, seeing their body in Kingu had brought unexpected closure. Gilgamesh had meant what he'd said to Kingu: regardless of what dark magic and foul intentions stole Enkidu's body and brought them to life, Gilgamesh felt they had a right to exist, and he in turn had a duty to safeguard the agency and health of this inheritor of his partner's body, whether the transferal had been willing or not.
All things came to an end. Enkidu. Gilgamesh. Sumer. One day, even Inanna. But the flames they lit continued to burn. New fires sparked to life. Humanity, the world, life itself would struggle on, to the bitter end, forever seeking new beginnings. There was no fault in that; it was noble, even.
Gilgamesh opened his eyes. "Stop prattling then and show me your victory, Inanna-Gugkalla."
The goddess grinned fiercely, sliding forward into his lap as she pulled the horned crown from his head, and he let go of the arms of his throne.
Notes:
FGO's Rasputin, and more specifically the alternate version of Kirei that serves as the host (and the guiding personality) is simply fascinating. Literally only Ws for Kirei as a character in Fate.
Chapter 13: Dare the Sky to Fall
Summary:
Uruk launches its counterattack.
Chapter Text
"You've had almost half a day," Gilgamesh said, clenching and unclencing his fist. "Report, Romani Archaman."
"It's exactly as I wrote in my report," Roman repeated, Ritsuka's mic connected to a magical projector in the throne room of Uruk. "Tiamat's Authority is as the creator of life. Abzu -- the Chaos Tide that she generates has instantly reversed any wounds inflicted on her so far."
"It is the source of life itself," Gilgamesh muttered. "Of raw potential energy, growth and change. So I assume we cannot win a war of attrition against her in any way?"
"Not... as far as Leonardo and I can determine. The Chaos Tide doesn't even heal her so much as it reverts her to her original state -- there's no way we can apply more damage than she can heal. And while she should be weak to Marduk, it still won't stop her creating the Chaos Tide or its properties, so..."
"Then the only answer is to isolate her from the Chaos Tide," Inanna said.
"How?" Gilgamesh asked.
"How else?" she retorted. "I hit her with a Noble Phantasm so strong it will vaporize the Chaos Tide around her and destroy her both in one stroke."
"Is that possible?" Mash asked.
"I am Inanna, Queen of Heaven, Goddess of War," she said, straightening her back, her voice resonating throughout the chamber and her eyes shining.
"That must be our plan, then," Gilgamesh agreed reluctantly, "To fly out to meet Tiamat in battle and utterly destroy her in a single, overwhelming attack. "
"Our plan," Inanna said. "You, King of Uruk, must remain with your people for when the lahmu inevitably return."
"I know that," he snapped, although he didn't seem happy she had brought it up. "At her current pace, Tiamat will smash through the Fangs of Uta-napishtim tonight, flooding Uruk with the Chaos Tide. She will reach Uruk herself before dawn. You, warriors of Chaldea, have until then to kill the mother of all creation."
Inanna smirked. "I love a challenge."
Gilgamesh didn't look so enthusiastic, sinking deeper into his throne.
"If that's our best plan, then we have to try," Ritsuka said, clenching his fist above his third and final Command Spell for Inanna. "And we have to act fast."
"Yet not so fast as to mark ourselves as careless," Rasputin interjected. "Extend your arm, Fujimaru Ritsuka."
Ritsuka didn't know what he was getting at, but he did so. Rasputin delicately peeled up the sleeves of his mystic code to expose his forearm, the faded remnants of the Command Spells he had spent in Irkalla, and then he tugged up his own sleeve.
Ritsuka gasped. Marking the entire length of Rasputin's forearm were jagged red stigmata, like scars of wars past -- Command Spells, dozens of them overlapping and intersecting.
"God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth," Kotomine incanted.
"Ah--!" Ritsuka hissed, as color left some of Rasputin's twisted, sharp stigmata and returned to the elegant strokes of his own spent Command Spells. "How--?"
"In life, I was an Overseer of the Holy Grail War," Kotomine explained, "Entrusted to retain the unspent Command Spells of the participants who sacrificed themselves for their wishes. The third and final boon I contribute to my fusion with Rasputin. And as Overseer, I can grant them to you."
"Hold nothing back," Gilgamesh commanded. "Even Inanna, great as she is, will need all you can give to stand against Tiamat."
"I like my odds a lot better now," the goddess admitted.
Ritsuka flexed his hand, trying to soothe the dull pain remaining in his forearm. "Can you carry Mash and I all the way to Tiamat?"
"No need," Gilgamesh told them. "The two of you, and Rasputin, will escort Inanna aboard the ma-gur of Nippur."
"The… what?" Ritsuka asked.
The ma-gur mah En-lil-la-Nin-lil was a divine barge, constructed of extravagant gold and silver, intended primarily to transport statues, thought to be physical avatars of the gods Enlil, Lord of Wind, and his consort Ninlil, Goddess of Destiny, to the battlefield. It was fitting enough that the vessel now escorted Inanna on her way to her greatest battle. The magical barge, however, did not float along the canals of Sumer, but instead cut through its skies alongside the goddess.
"It's too bad I wasn't summoned as a Rider," Inanna said when they boarded. "As worthy an offering as it is, Maana would put this manmade ma-gur to shame."
"You're approaching Tiamat!" Roman reported. "Lahmu incoming!"
After their initial attack, they had retreated to swarming around Tiamat. But now, after the sun had begun sinking below the horizon again, they had split, half their number surging forward to once again attack Uruk. The Chaldeans had slipped far to the northeast, using the Zagros Mountains as cover and striking fast from the north when the lahmu had thinned, seeking to head them off just before they reached the Fangs of Uta-napishtim. But the lahmu remaining seemed to have no compunctions about breaking their formation as the incoming humans drew closer. The ball of roiling black bodies ruptured, and lahmu spilled toward the Chaldeans.
"Now!" Ritsuka called, bracing his hand on Mash's back, supplementing her energy as she deployed her Noble Phantasm. The phantasmal castle walls of Camelot rose up around the ma-gur, smashing their way through the swarm of lahmu as they threw themselves against the mirage of brickwork with such force that they splattered like bugs. Those that survived the initial impact were swiftly crushed beneath the onslaught of their brethren behind them.
Mash flinched, her stance lowering like she was physically being pushed back against, and Ritsuka put both hands on her shoulders, holding her steady.
Never doubt. Never falter. Or the white walls of Camelot will crumbled and crush you beneath their own weight. But stay true to your own heart… and that gate will never fall.
That was the truth of Galahad's shield -- Mash's Noble Phantasm. She had held up even to the heat of Excalibur itself. But as Mumei had cautioned them, such defenses were never perfect.
All around them, lahmu swarmed, so thick that their view of the evening sun, the sky, everything outside the walls of Camelot disappeared. The bricks of the ma-gur became slick with thick ichor, their ears filled with screeching, and still they could feel the impacts as lahmu continued to beat against the walls--
"Mash--!" Inanna shouted, pushing her back as the walls cracked. Her hair ignited into flames as she released divine energy in all directions, blowing the lahmu back as she drove the ma-gur forward, cleaving their way through the lahmu. Far below them, another ma-gur -- ma Nin-lil-la -- rode over the waves of the Chaos Tide, packed full of Sumerian soldiers. They loosed their arrows upward, drawing some of the lahmu away.
That brigade of soldiers was all but already dead. But there was no other way they could see to thin the lahmu enough for Inanna to make it through.
The goddess whirled to and fro, launching bolts of light from her fingertips, swinging spear and mace around her, as beside her the shield-bearing knight and the mad monk fought just as hard, striking out with sword and shield and Black Key. Ritsuka stayed close between them all, dashing back and forth in a deadly game of tag, each tap on one of the Servants giving them a jolt of new energy.
"Tiamat directly ahead!" Roman called out. "Inanna, get ready!"
Then the worst happened. A streak of light sliced through the ma-gur, exploding amidship and sending the barge listing to one side, belching smoke and cinders into the air. The explosion blew Inanna away, as if she had been the target all along, falling. Ritsuka's eyes tracked her, still alive -- until he saw what had happened.
Standing on the lower ma-gur, in a bloodied clearing in the middle of the brigade of Sumerian soldiers still fighting lahmu from all sides, was the Tamer of Horses, the Hero of Troy -- Hector, dressed in black and drenched in mud and blood. He would have been right at home in the fires of Singularity X. He caught Durendal as it fell from the sky.
Inanna righted herself, burning with fury as she saw the Altered Servant. She crashed down into him, knocking him far from the ma-gur back into the thick waves of the Chaos Tide, but he floated atop the mud, lifting himself up and stretching his shoulders as if he'd been delivered the punch of a drunken bar patron, not the smiting mace of an angry goddess. The former Servant of Gilgamesh said nothing as he trod heavily back toward her. His eyes were black as the tar beneath his feet and now pumping through his veins.
"We don't have time for this!" Inanna spat, aiming down the length of her arm. She loosed an enormous blast of magical energy that left her short of breath but utterly consumed the Altered Lancer. But when the light faded, he reassembled from the mud, rolling his shoulders. Inanna gritted her teeth, swooping toward him, where he snapped the haft from his spear, leaving Durendal as a sword and meeting the blows of her spear with an impossible speed the Servant had never shown before he had died at Nippur.
Inanna cursed but pushed herself harder, rapidly rotating around Hector with her control over her own gravity and leverage, finally knocking his sword wide and smashing his skull with her mace.
Again, the Servant's head reformed instantly from roiling black mud, hands grabbing onto her mace as he laughed in her face, his empty black eyes staring into her as he slammed his forehead into her face and threw her away from him.
Inanna reevaluated quickly. Hector was clearly no normal Alter, even as little as she understood about the concept from the Throne -- he was doused not by a Grail, but by Tiamat's primordial Sea of Life. Like her, he was regenerating from any wounds, but he seemed to be a facsimile, made entirely out of the stuff itself, not just relying on contact with it.
"Inanna!" Mash called out, leaping from the falling ma-gur. As she hit the mud, the golden necklace Gilgamesh had given them glowed faintly, keeping her afloat and temporarily shielded from the Chaos Tide. Combined with the famous purity of Galahad, she should have been well-protected -- unlike Ritsuka, who was held securely in Rasputin's arms as the Servant leapt onto the deck of the lower ma-gur. Their distraction team had just become their last refuge.
"Hector?" Mash blinked.
"Hey, girlie," the Altered Lancer sighed. He sounded just as dead as he looked.
"He's suffused with Chaos Tide, and it's healing him, just like Tiamat," Inanna said. "Should have known a good general would make such an aggravating enemy…"
"Stay with Master," Mash said. "Get him to Tiamat, and complete the mission."
"Did you hear me?" Inanna asked. "You can't beat him."
The Shielder shook her head. "Hector is a much greater hero than I am. But I don't need to beat him -- I only need to keep him off of you. If he regenerates just like Tiamat does, then the same strategy should apply to him -- and the same blow that kills her can kill him."
"My Noble Phantasm? And what about you, Mash?"
"The walls of Camelot will hold indefinitely, as long as I believe," Mash said. She looked away from Hector long enough to smile shyly at Inanna. "And I trust that you and Master would never hurt me. I'll be okay."
Inanna hesitated only for a moment. This was war, a war for survival of the planet itself. Even a precious soul like Mash couldn't be weighed against that fate. But Inanna chose to trust her.
Mash let out a battle cry as Inanna left her side, throwing herself toward Hector. She bashed him back toward Tiamat and stayed on him, using her agility and superior bulk to keep him from regaining ground.
"Stop it, Mash," he said. "Come on. You can't win. None of you are walking away from this. There's no point fighting."
"That's not what you taught me!" she barked, and her sword was his answer, piercing through his shoulder before he was smashed off the point again by her shield.
"I was a coward, and a fool," the Altered Lancer spat mud.
"You're a fool now! Fear means we're alive! You taught me that!" Mash parried his spear with the length of her sword, bringing her shield up to block as he suddenly split the haft from the blade of his spear and swept the point back in the other direction. It blocked her view of his arm, just long enough for him to ignite the jets at his elbow and smash his oricalchum fist into her.
"I -- am -- alive!" She gritted her teeth, holding her ground. "And as long as I'm alive, I will never stop fighting! Because of you!"
Mash charged forward against the stronger Servant and his jet-propelled gauntlet, planting her shield into the mud to swing herself over it, smashing her armored boots into his temple.
He caught her ankle in his oricalchum grip, swinging her over his head, away from her shield, bringing her down into the mud. Gilgamesh's amulet kept her from going fully under, but Hector pushed her face down and held her fast, and she couldn't find enough gap to breath. The mud stung her eyes, her nose as she tried to fight for air--
Suddenly the weight was gone, a streak of green light carrying Hector off. Mash scrambled to her feet and regained her shield to see Hector struggle and separate from his attacker -- a man in shining silver armor that matched the set Hector wore, identical to the last detail. Armor which Mash had seen once before, striking terror on the Atlantic ocean in the Third Singularity; the same armor that Hector now wore.
"Achilles--!?" Mash gasped.
"I knew there was still a Rogue Servant unaccounted for!" Roman shouted triumphantly.
"Let me handle him, hero of Chaldea," Achilles suggested. "Your place is by your Master's side for a long while still."
"I have to do this," Mash insisted. "Inanna's Noble Phantasm--"
"I know," Achilles said, starting to zip back and forth over the mud, moving so fast he did not sink, trading rapid blows with Hector, some superficial, others outright deadly. "So let another sad shade bring this one back down to hell!"
"But--"
"Go!" Achilles barked, throwing himself bodily into Hector with all his might, moving them back toward Tiamat a hundred feet before Durendal found a gap in his armor and slipped between his ribs. He wasn't sure if it was Hector's Altering by Tiamat's mud gave him enough secondhand divinity to pierce Achilles' invincibility, or if the congealed curses he was surfing on had already worn away his protections. His heart was racing as fast as his feet -- he was a Rogue Servant without a Master, and keeping up full speed like this was draining him fast. But he only had to last a short while.
"Your corpse will feed the dogs, if any live through this," Hector said.
"You've said that before -- but it doesn't sound like you this time," Achilles said. They traded a few blows as he passed again, sword and spear clanging off each other rapidly. Before, at Troy -- they had spit curses and vitriol at each other, threatened terrible things and done worse on all sides, but that had been after a decade of unrelenting war, of watching comrades and friends die senseless deaths. In those moments, Hector had been pure, righteous outrage, but even then he maintained his sense of purpose: he existed to protect his people, his city, his family, and if he could scare the Trojans off by his sheer aptitude for combat and willingness to sacrifice his humanity, then he would.
This Altered facsimile had empty eyes like the void. There was no bite in his threat, no life in his eyes, no heart in his chest. This wasn't Hector. It was an insult to his memory.
"I'm done," Hector said. His orichalcum arm sparked with fire at the elbow and whipped hard, smashing Achilles across the temple. Hector only sounded tired as he said, "What have I got left to fight for? My city is gone. My wife, my son. My brothers and sister. This whole world is doomed. There's no point fighting Tiamat."
With the brief moment of opportunity, Hector turned to throw his spear again at Inanna. Achilles threw his shield and intercepted the attempt, and Hector whipped back around and scored another stab into his thigh while he was open.
"I'm going to put you right," Achilles said, "On my word as a hero."
"You're not a hero, you're a monster, worse than me," Hector said. "…Or maybe not, now."
"I am," Achilles agreed. "But the blood of your own brother summoned me here to bring you back, to preserve the honor of the great Hector of Troy. You deserve to die a hero, not a monster."
His armor felt heavy on his limbs, veins turning black beneath his skin. Achilles snarled and shrugged the plates off, leaving them in the mud as he moved. That was alright. He only needed to last a little longer, as he slowly but surely boxed Hector in at the feet of Tiamat.
Far above the mud, Achilles' chariot sped through the sky. Xanthos, Balios, and Pedasos were as intelligent and loyal as ever to his commands, carrying Rasputin and the last Master of Chaldea from the ma-gur, following in Inanna's wake as she led them toward their target.
"She's reached the Fangs!" Ritsuka called. "Rasputin, cover me!"
The priest did as he was instructed, holding his cross high and placing his hand on Ritsuka's shoulder, reciting, "If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy them. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple."
A bounded field of shimmering white surrounded them, shielding them from the lahmu for a few crucial moments, as Inanna alighted beside Ritsuka in Achilles' chariot.
"Ready!"
"Alright -- By these Command Spells--!"
The colossal goddess seemed not to notice them at all, her strange star-shaped pupils fixed on Uruk in the distance. But the skies above her began to swirl with thunderclouds as Inanna raised her spear. Ritsuka placed his hand on her shoulder, feeding her energy, and her eyes and hair flashed, her spear shining as the clouds above them parted, revealing a galaxy of stars shining bright, blue and red and purest white. They spun and spun like a timelapse, streaking together until they coalesced into a single shining point.
"You were the mother of us all," Inanna murmured, "But we no longer belong to you. Return to the primordial sea -- An Gal Ta Ki Gal Se!"
She brought her spear down and the star fell, spearing down into the crown of Tiamat's head. The clouds around them vanished, blown away like the mud below, vaporized in the heat of Inanna's Noble Phantasm. The primordial goddess staggered… then turned her too-wide mouth full of sharp teeth toward the chariot, her pulsar eyes locking to Inanna.
Ritsuka heaved. The sudden surge of fatigue was nauseating. He stared dumbly down at his arm, all three of his Command Spells gone. Inanna swayed, sweating, black hair sticking to her shoulders. The Chaos Tide poured back in around Tiamat, parting around the ghostly walls of Camelot at her feet. He didn't know what--
"Again," Inanna husked, sweat dripping from her face.
Ritsuka blinked, not understanding. "What--?"
"Again!" Inanna roared. Her limp hair blazed back to life, her tattoos glowing vibrant in the night. "More! I am Inanna-Kugulgul, the Red Lady, Goddess of War and Victory, and I do not lose!"
Rasputin laid his hand on Ritsuka's wrist, and the Master hissed as more Command Spells transferred.
"Give me more!" she demanded. "What will you give to save your world, Ritsuka!?"
Ritsuka gritted his teeth. "Everything!"
"Then give me everything!"
He reached forward and put both his hands on Inanna's shoulders, pouring energy into her until his knees threatened to fail, until motes of blackness swam at the edge of his vision. "I order you again, Inanna -- annihilate Tiamat! Use every last one of these Command Spells if you have to!"
Ritsuka fell to his hands and knees, grunting as Command Spells burned off his skin, reappeared, flashed and extinguished again. Inanna launched herself into the air, high above Tiamat, the primordial giant craning her neck to track the goddess, a low growl in her throat.
She did not voice her apology to Siduri. Her High Priestess knew it, and rejected it. This was her highest calling.
"Everything settles within my heart," Inanna said to herself, willing it to be true as she fixed her gaze downward, daring her ancestor to meet her next blow. "Our beginnings were microscopic, but we expand infinitely."
She flew higher, higher, until the air thinned, until there seemed to be nothing between her and the stars themselves. She gathered them around herself, within herself, and cast her sight downward again, filled with fire.
"I am the first star of nightfall, the last star of new dawn!" she cried, raising her spear one last time, a storm of starlight gathering around it before throwing herself into the yawning jaws of the Beast of Calamity.
She fell like a star upon Tiamat, blazing like a comet through the sky. Tiamat raised her head, opened her mouth, and began to sing again, a divine shield of light appearing above her, and Inanna struck it like a meteorite. The impact alone blew the clouds and Chaos Tide back again, rocked Achilles' chariot in the sky. Tiamat's divine shield in its entirety was shoved back down toward her and cracked like a pane of glass.
"And the earth shook," Rasputin whispered, "And the rocks were split."
Still Inanna pushed down. She burned white-hot, flickering incandescent in the night, the sun itself fallen upon Tiamat. Her golden armor melted and run in rivulets down her skin as she pressed her spear into Tiamat's shield. Inanna screamed in rage, her wrath like an inferno engulfing her, burning the Chaos Tide to clay and dust as she raised her mace high in her other hand.
"Edin--!"
She slammed Sharur, the Smasher of Thousands, down upon her spear, driving it like a nail. The shield spiderwebbed beneath her, and she grinned as she raised the mace again, the corona around her swirling and intensifying, an accretion disc at the birth of a magnetar.
"--Shugurra--!"
The beat of her mace was thunder, each blow of bolt of lightning. Tiamat's flesh boiled and burnt to ash on the other side of the shield. The Chaos Tide tried to flood back in around her, but the sheer heat made its dark waves golden-hot, obsidian turning back to lava before boiling it away. Inanna struck her spear again, and it sank deep into the shield. Tiamat's magic flickered. Inanna was the luminous center of the galaxy, the magnetic core around which all else centered. The entire world hung on the head of her mace. All the stars in the sky, every sound in the night collapsed and condensed into the point of her spear, the dark event horizon at the center of the blinding deicide.
"--Quasar!" Inanna roared, slamming Sharur down one final time in a supernova of sound and fury and light. Tiamat's shield shattered and the pieces melted into globules before they could fall. Inanna radiated, and she and her spear plunged down toward the eye of the Mother of Chaos.
Ritsuka shielded his eyes; it was like watching an atom split. The fireball would have consumed Uruk in its entirety. It would have turned a mountain range into a crater. It could have killed the Mother of Creation herself. When the afterimage faded, a new sea had been created as a monument to the battle, a massive crater slowly filling with black water.
And at its center, the massive draconian bones of Tiamat, cracked and broken and flaking. The titan's bones shuddered, and her empty skull rose to look again at Uruk as muscle and sinew and flesh began to regenerate around her body, and then the Chaos Tide engulfed her. Inanna fell like a star to the black waves below, bleeding spiritrons in her wake until their light was smothered by the mud.
"No!" Ritsuka screamed. "NO!"
Mash hugged him tightly as they watched Tiamat rise out of the Chaos Tide, smashing through the Fangs of Uta-napishtim as if they were never even there, letting the black mud flood into the rest of Sumer, toward Uruk.
"Return to Gilgamesh." Rasputin's instructions were calm and slow, the tone of a long-suffering teacher as he unbuttoned his cassock. "Before Achilles' chariot follows its Rider to the Throne."
"Where-- what are you doing?" Ritsuka sobbed, his breath short and his throat stripped.
"Evil is a human function," he said by way of answering, as he threw his cassock over the side of the chariot, leaving him in a plain black shirt. "Division, deceit, death -- I shall demonstrate them all now, and prove God for all the lahmu to know."
He kissed the cross around his neck, then followed his garment over the side of the chariot.
Rasputin landed heavily on the ma-gur that still floated, badly damaged, on the waves of the Chaos Tide before Tiamat, a handful of wounded soldiers still standing.
"Embrace me, three-headed dragon, three-headed death," Rasputin said, wrapping his rosary necklace around his fist. "Purifying flames, overflow, and grant us salvation."
The lahmu descended on them again. They were pierced by lances and black keys, pummeled with maces and shields and fists reinforced with magecraft and Command Spells, and they slashed bellies and cleaved skulls in turn, until Rasputin was the only one left. But still he stood and fought, reciting verse, all but ignoring the sharp chitinous spines as they sliced and stabbed his body. And as more and more human blood and beastly ichor covered him until he was soaked deep sanguine from head to toe, he grinned.
Chapter 14: Do Not Go Quiet
Summary:
Uruk struggles to pull off one last, desperate plan.
Chapter Text
"Give me a weakness, Romani!" Gilgamesh demanded.
"Believe me, I wish I could!" the doctor shouted back. "But I was wrong! Okay? It's not the Chaos Tide -- Tiamat's very nature, her Authority as a goddess, is a source of life itself. I was wrong… There's a reason that she was never killed before, only put to sleep and hidden away."
They had been yelling at each other like that, searching for a solution, for… Ritsuka didn't know how long. He was too busy staring out from the grand entrance of the throne room. It all seemed so small in comparison. So worthless.
Uruk was burning. The Chaos Tide had hit the city walls like a biblical deluge and began to eat its way through the windows and gates, the waters rising higher and higher, Tiamat on the horizon, her horrible starry eyes staring holes into the city, growing ever closer, the lahmu swarming around her almost lazily, waiting for their mother to arrive at Uruk before descending on the city again in earnest. One of Tiamat's huge curling horns has been shorn from her head and had not regrown -- Inanna's sacrifice had done something, marred Tiamat's crown, but what did that get them? They didn't have anything that powerful left to throw at her again, and she was still coming.
The lahmu blacked out the skies with their sheer numbers. They tore soldiers to shreds, left no one alive. When this war had started, the armies at Gilgamesh's command had been of typical size for Sumer of the time -- the people didn't want to accept that the end of the world was on its way, and the other kings wanted to accept Gilgamesh's leadership even less. By that fluke, even after such catastrophic sustained losses, the release of the souls that had been in Ereshkigal's custody -- every single man and woman fit enough to hold a weapon -- had left them with a force for the final battle far larger than they had ever had before. And now…
Uruk was a city of ghosts. Nimue was dead. Rasputin was dead. Inanna was dead. Siduri. Tomoe, Hector, Paris, all of Mesopotamia dead, dead, DEAD--
Ritsuka started moving toward the steps of the ziggurat, quickly. He needed to--
"Ritsuka! Where are you going?" Roman asked. It was concern, Ritsuka could hear that, but--
"I don't know!" he snapped. "But if I stay in here, I'm going to break something. I need to -- I don't know, I just can't take it just standing here watching the world die! I just have to do something!"
"What is it you can do, Ritsuka?" Gilgamesh asked coolly.
"I don't know!" he yelled back again, full of venom. If he wanted something to take his anger out on, he'd just found it. "You're the one with Clairvoyance, why don't you tell me!? I'm just some fucking guy, who was never even supposed to be here!"
"Ritsuka…"
"Innana is dead. She's dead!" Ritsuka screamed. "The most powerful being in Mesopotamia, and I watched her burn out like a candle! All I could do was watch!"
He choked and stopped as Mash wrapped her arms around him, his heart hammering in his chest, tears flowing down through soot-stained cheeks. His numb fingers twitched, blackened from necrosis from magical energy over-expenditure; fueling Inanna's futile final blow. The burnished copper hair that stuck to his forehead was streaked through with new silver. Circuit burn, Inanna had called it. A visible reminder of his inability to make a difference, though not one he'd have to live with long.
Gilgamesh's eyes flickered, the hint of a wince in the dark circles of his sockets. "Yes. Inanna-Gugkalla is dead."
Servants were phantoms in the first place. Ephemeral familiars conjured by the Throne in the image of another soul. But they were still alive. They hoped. They felt. They loved. And they felt loss, and pain, and they died. They formed memories from irreplaceable moments -- and lost them forever. A Servant could be resummoned, but even if the memories of previous summons were preserved in some form in the Throne, like da Vinci theorized, a Servant was only summoned with the knowledge they had in their original life, and whatever the Throne decided was strictly necessary.
Divine Spirits weren't even supposed to be summoned. And if Inanna ever was again, she would never remember the nights she spent talking with Ritsuka, trading wit for wit with Gilgamesh, or teaching Ritsuka and Mash how to let themselves be with each other.
And then there was Inanna's host, Siduri. Her loyal priestess to the very end.
"How many people are even left?" Ritsuka asked. "What does winning look like anymore?"
"By my estimates…" Gilgamesh frowned, "Perhaps some over five-hundred, here in the ziggurat. I cannot be sure how many still survive on the walls, manning the dingir."
"Only… five-hundred?" Mash repeated slowly, drifting near Ritsuka, like he was a wild animal, and she wasn't sure if he would bite. "Forty-eight hours ago, we had almost a hundred-thousand."
"Not only five-hundred," Gilgamesh corrected gently. He raised his arms, and his voice, and bellowed, "But the Great Five-Hundred of Uruk! Those relentless souls who fight against the Goddess of Creation herself for their right to survive! Who fight for every breath they take, every moment that passes! That is five-hundred lives more than I foresaw, on this day. Is that not victory? Is that not good enough for you, Ritsuka?"
"No, I--" Ritsuka stopped himself, bit his lip, and hardened his resolve. "No... No, it isn't. Everyone who's dead -- they deserved better. They deserved to live."
"They did," Gilgamesh nodded. "But the gods, the King of Mages, fate itself -- they do not care for your insignificant mortal struggles."
"It's significant to us," Ritsuka growled.
"Then what will you do? Will you give up? Cry to the heavens and wait until the end of the world for them to answer you? Will you throw yourself at Tiamat to die in misguided suicide? Was Inanna's trust misplaced? What will you do, Ritsuka Fujimaru!?"
Ritsuka took a deep breath. He felt numb, unable or unwilling to answer, so twisted tight around himself that every answer was wrong, nothing was good enough. But Mash whispered in his ear, "I know you can do this. I know you can. We can do this, together."
"I'm going to save them," Ritsuka said shakily. "I don't know how. But I joined Chaldea to help people, and it feels like all I've done here is fail. These last five-hundred -- they live. They live. Even if it kills me."
"And who are you, to proclaim such a thing?" Gilgamesh asked. "Look at you -- weak, exhausted, a child playing at being a hero."
"I'm nobody. I don't matter. Today or tomorrow or in fifty years I'm going to die, and nobody will remember for long. But I've still got more fight in me, and I'm going to give every last bit of it before I let Tiamat touch one more person."
It was the only truth he could still feel. There was no Solomon, no Incineration of Humanity, no Holy Grail -- there was only here, now, scorched Uruk and Tiamat and the five-hundred survivors. There was no big picture if every small frame making up its mosaic was left shattered for some greater good.
Gilgamesh nodded, a smile creeping slow over his face. "Good."
"There has to be something, Doctor," Mash said. "Please, keep looking."
Roman was the very image of empathetic pain, unable to look away from Mash and Ritsuka. "I'm trying. I'm trying, Mash. But I'm just not sure that… Inanna hurt her, but I can't tell how much. Her readings look exactly the same. The very fact that we're alive continually proves her existence, almost like the Rayshift process. As long as any life continues to live on Earth, I'm not sure she can be killed."
Ritsuka choked out bitter laughter. "Great! Then all we have to do is… is…"
Gilgamesh caught his eye, and the king sucked in a breath.
"Ereshkigal," Ritsuka breathed.
"Ereshkigaaal!" Gilgamesh roared, turning to the Mirror of the Underworld that stood in the corner of his throne room since the dissolution of the Triple Goddess Alliance.
"Have some respect!" the goddess shrieked back, her visage appearing in the mirror like through water. "I gave you this mirror so you could humbly beseech my aid, not so you could shatter it with your wailing! Be quick -- it's utter chaos down here, hundreds of thousands of souls--"
"Then let me speak!" Gilgamesh cut in. "You moved Irkalla from Kutha to Girsu. Can you open it to the mortal world, and swallow Tiamat?"
"Swallow Tiamat!? Are you insane?"
"No, that might work!" Roman typed furiously. "Da Vinci, can you--? Thanks. You have absolute Authority in Irkalla, don't you? Even over the highest divinity. If Tiamat could be entirely isolated from the living world, submerged into the world of death… that might work!"
"I can't just steer Irkalla like an ox and chase down Tiamat!"
"You don't have to," Gilgamesh said. "We can take no chances. Not only must Tiamat be completely drowned in Ereshkigal's Authority of the Dead -- no man, woman, or child of Mesopotamia can remain in the world of the living. Bring Irkalla to Uruk. We shall all descend into the earth together."
"Can you move Irkalla that far in time?" Ritsuka asked.
Ereshkigal was silent for a long moment. "I… Yes."
Mash furrowed her brow. "You can't move Irkalla from Girsu fast enough to intercept Tiamat, but you can get it to Uruk?"
"Yes. Because… Irkalla is already mostly beneath Uruk."
"What!?" Gilgamesh choked.
"Do you think I'm stupid enough to only unleash undead from one location? Why do you think the plague suddenly intensified in Uruk when you died?" Ereshkigal tossed her hair imperiously, for a moment undercutting her next statement: "I am not my sister. I would not underestimate Gilgamesh, the Wedge of Heaven."
Ritsuka's heart panged.
"I should wage war upon you for such a devious plan, were it not exactly the circumstance we now required!" Gilgamesh was laughing like a madman. "How long before you are ready?"
"Tiamat will be there in less than an hour," da Vinci warned.
"Then we shall have to be quicker than that. Hold her," Ereshkigal said, and vanished from the mirror.
The throne room was left in silence.
"I'm sorry," Ritsuka said.
Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. "Do you apologize for your outburst, or for your very existence?"
He winced.
"If it is the former, then pay it no mind. Recall what I told the Queen of Irkalla when we confronted her: it is your ceaseless toil even in the face of your pain which is worthy of praise, pain far beyond what most people are ever tasked with."
And, Ritsuka noted silently, the throne room still bore the cracks and ruined golden dinnerware from the King's rage when he first heard Inanna fall from the sky.
"If it is the latter, then do not sully my presence with those words!" Gilgamesh declared. "I do not care who else in Chaldea was meant to be here. You are. You could run and hide and leave this war to the rest of us, and no one would blame you. Yet still you are here."
"... Mumei traded his soul for the power to help people," Ritsuka mused. "It's grueling, and bloody, and endless, and thankless -- and right now, I would take that deal."
"I know." Gilgamesh's voice became soft and slow, tender. "That is what makes you worthy to be called my friend. Circumstances may have forced you to stand here, at the end of my world, but you still choose to stand with me. That is not a matter of destiny, nor ability -- it is a matter of heart, of will and reason in equal measure, and I could see it in you the moment you first stepped foot in my throne room. Inanna said to me not long ago: to allow yourself to love is the greatest victory one can ever claim. But you conquered that battle long ago."
"I miss her," Ritsuka admitted. Mash squeezed his hand.
"Me, too," she said.
Gilgamesh pondered his words for a long moment before speaking again, gazing up at the mosaic ceiling of his throne room. "You must know, stargazers as you are: the color, the radiance… and the lifespan of a star alike -- all are determined by what they burn deep within their heart. Inanna… that troublesome goddess must be pleased indeed to know she burned out in a final dance that will be sung for as long as Sumerian memory endures; and Siduri, loyal and proud to the very last, basking in the warmth of the brightest star of all."
Gilgamesh looked at a faraway place, clenching and unclenching his fist before coming back to himself. "Go. Find a few minutes of respite, before the final moments of this age are upon us."
No sooner had the King turned away, tiredly stepping back to his throne, then Roman's voice came over his Ritsuka's personal comm, the Doctor's image vanishing from the holoprojector set in the center of the throne room. "Ritsuka, hey… Can I talk to you?"
Ritsuka shrugged, then, remembering the action couldn't be seen, mustered the energy to say, "Go ahead."
Mash stepped away from him, her fingers lingering on his, and Ritsuka reluctantly turned back to the burning horizon, sitting down heavily on the steps of the ziggurat.
"Hey… I'm not very good at this, but I just wanted to say I… I know what it feels like. To be thrown into something you weren't ready for."
"The difference is that you've done great as Acting Director, Roman."
"And you've done fantastic as the Master of Chaldea! We have a 100% success rate, don't we?"
"Technically, so far. But this one… it's just… it's not looking good, Roman."
"If anyone can do it, Ritsuka, I think it's you. I truly believe you can do this -- even when you don't."
"Why?" Ritsuka choked out. He sounded so… small.
"Because I know what it's like to feel like… like you've been forced to be someone you never wanted to be. Even if that person is objectively okay, it's still hard when you're asked to be something else, when all you wanted was to be."
"That's the fucked-up part, Roman -- I did want this. I wanted this, remember? To be a hero. What a fucking moron..."
"You didn't want to be a hero, you wanted to help people. I've got all your records, remember? The other Master candidates had Clock Tower recommendations, pedigrees, military records -- you had volunteer hours, and a half-finished degree in cultural anthropology. That's who you wanted to be. And you had the courage to make it happen -- to change your life, change yourself when you needed to. To stay true to yourself. I've never been strong enough to do that. I'm sure da Vinci understands how you really feel better than me, but -- I really think you're amazing, Ritsuka. And… just because you wanted something doesn't mean you have to bear it all alone, when it comes with things you weren't prepared for. Mash, da Vinci and I… we're here for you. I will be right here for you… until the very end."
The Doctor snorted a laugh, the same goofy Roman that Ritsuka had first met, shirking his duties eating cake in an unassigned room in Chaldea. "Sorry, that last part sounded... really serious."
Ritsuka bit down on the inside of his lip, struggling not to cry again for the umpteenth time in the last 24 hours. "… Thanks, Roman."
"Any time, Ritsuka. I mean that. But… I think someone else wants to talk to you, now. I'll sign off here for a bit."
It was Mash, of course. She stood, waiting at the grand arched entrance back to the throne room, hands folded neatly in front of her. He'd seen her in doublets and petticoats, dirty silk shirts and trousers, jeans, stola and femoralia, hijabs and niqabs, but there was something about the clash of the Sumerian kaunake over her barebones Chaldea Rayshift uniform that struck Ritsuka as particularly cute, even now.
"Hey," he said.
She opened her mouth as if to respond in kind, but thought better of it, instead simply walking up to him, sitting herself down at his side, and leaning into him. It was an action she might have been incapable of so easily just a month ago.
"You okay?" Ritsuka asked.
"You don't have to worry about me," she rushed to say.
"Let me, please. It's one thing I know I'm good at. Everyone's already worried about me, and they shouldn't be… I suppose I gave them reason to. How are you? I know you'd gotten pretty close with Hector while we were here…"
Mash drew her limbs in on herself a little tighter. "Yes… I was trained with the expectation of fighting… killing. Roman never liked that, but it's… difficult, to learn to be any other way. And now, I'm… unsure it would be an advantage. I suppose I wasn't trained for the possibility of having to kill teammates."
"I'm sorry," Ritsuka told her. "I don't think you can ever be prepared for that, no matter who you are or how you were raised. And, frankly, Roman stepping in to take care of you doesn't seem like it makes for a particularly… hardened mindset."
Mash smiled. "No, I suppose it doesn't. I didn't understand him at first. I was very young, but even then I didn't see how a magus could be so…"
"Caring?"
She nodded.
"He's a doctor first, magus second," Ritsuka said. "Like how Hector was always a protector, even though he was a soldier."
"A protector and a soldier are supposed to be synonymous."
"They aren't. Not always."
"I see." Mash shifted. "I suppose, then… I was raised to be a soldier, and I'm still learning how to be a protector. Still learning how to be human."
"We're all still learning. I'm still grappling with how to be the person I want to be, much less the last Master of humanity."
"That's wrong, I think," Mash said. "I can't speak for becoming the person you want to be -- I'm not even really sure who I want to be, but I think… it's close to you, and Roman. I think you're already much closer to who you want to be than you believe. And as for being humanity's final Master… that's something you already are, regardless of everything else. We could have had my Command Spells transferred to da Vinci, but you wanted to help. When this is all over, you will be remembered for that."
Ritsuka huffed softly. "I think it's more likely this will all be swept under the rug, as much as they can. The Animuspheres were supposed to prevent all this kind of thing in the first place, right? Especially with Olga-Marie gone, I doubt they're going to want any of this to be too public if they can help it."
"Does that bother you?"
"Not really," Ritsuka shrugged. "I didn't set out to be famous. I'll settle for just being alive for now, with everyone else."
"See?" Mash looked at him fondly. "I think you deserve to be recognized for everything you've been through. I would never have made it this far without you."
"I think you're selling yourself short. You've grown so much, Mash, just since I've known you. You could have made it through with someone else; maybe it couldn't have been anyone, but it didn't have to be me. I don't need to be special... I just need to know I'm making a difference."
"You are," Mash said. "You're making a difference. To the people of Sumer. To Chaldea. To humanity. And… to me."
Ritsuka shook his head, worrying the inside of his lip. It already felt swollen and raw. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be the last bastion. The rock. But I don't… We have time travel at the tips of our fingers, and if we fuck this up, it still won't be enough. If I fuck this up. I want to be the person who can suck it up and keep smiling anyway, but…"
"Ritsuka…" Mash laid her hand on his knee, worming her way closer to him, pressing her face into his neck. "I don't… want you to be perfect and stoic. You're human. So… perfectly imperfect, in all the right ways that I'm still not. What you've done already -- who you are -- is so much more than enough already."
He struggled to swallow. Just to breathe. He hooked his hands around Mash's waist and tugged her just a little closer, trying to steady himself. "I… I try to. To know that. I believe you, it's just… still hard to really accept as true. I've never felt like…"
He cut himself off. It felt too pitiful to say.
"What can I do?" Mash asked. "What do you need?"
"I need to save these people," he said. "I need to know that you're okay, because I need you with me to do it."
"I'm okay," she repeated. "No matter what it says about me… I would rather be here than anywhere else."
"Then I'm going to be okay, too," Ritsuka vowed. "Kotomine wouldn't have stayed behind if he didn't know we could do this without him. I have… no fucking idea what it's going to look like, but we're going to drag Tiamat down to hell, and we're going to beat her."
Mash smiled into his neck. "I believe you."
When the lahmu surged like another Chaos Tide to smash down onto Uruk again, the dingirs that still had men to man them unexpectedly turned, ceasing to target the lahmu that harried the city and focusing instead entirely on Tiamat. It had to cost them. The mother-goddess wailed in that haunting, piercing voice of hers, but Ritsuka was protected by the shield of Sir Brunor, Maledisant.
By the time Tiamat made it to the main gate of Uruk, the dingirs had all gone silent, swept away by the ceaseless waves of lahmu. Black waters poured from Tiamat, rushing through the city streets, breaking the hasty dikes and dams and igniting anything that still lived before drowning it in mud. But still, defiant arrows and javelins from the ziggurat flew, striking lahmu and glancing off of Tiamat's hide.
"Do you think us defeated?" Gilgamesh asked, to no one so much as himself. But he raised his arms, glowing with energy, and raised his voice to a bellow: "This is the great city of Uruk! The mighty city of Inanna, and I am its king! Try and take it from me!"
The walls of Uruk were completely submerged by the rising Chaos Tide. Any soldiers that had lasted this long were surely drowned in curses now. But Ritsuka noticed something: the dingir rose with the Chaos Tide, floating on wooden platforms anchored by thick chains to their emplacements on the wall's towers.
And as one, every single dingir lit up with golden light. They shuddered and turned and began firing in perfect unison at Tiamat, a relentless pounding salvo of magical power as she breached the main gate.
"Did you think I would not be capable of controlling the very cannons I myself crafted?" Gilgamesh laughed. His tattoos were glowing in the twilight. "Child's play!"
At the peak of the ziggurat, the two Chaldeans and a platoon of the best soldiers of Uruk defended the King. Marduk sliced through the lahmu almost as easily as air; its conceptual strength against Tiamat seemed to extend to her children. Ritsuka's saving grace. Mash fought beside him, her sheer Servant's strength letting her perform just as well with her red-hilted sword. They fought nearly back-to-back, Mash a solid support bracing Ritsuka when lahmu smashed into his shield with blows that would have sent him flying without her.
"The target is almost here!" Mash cried.
"The sun has not yet breached the Zagros mountains!" Gilgamesh gritted his teeth. "Ereshkigal needs yet more time!"
"The Corpse Queen shall have it."
The familiar voice sent chills down Ritsuka's spine, but he was only shocked a moment later, when the lahmu swarming around the top of the ziggurat were speared by dozens of golden chains.
"Kingu?"
"I am not Kingu," they said. The company of soldiers parted around them as they descended onto the stones of the ziggurat, landing softly. "I am not Enkidu, either. I do not know who -- what I am. But… an act of mercy was given to me following an act of treachery. This is not about humanity or gods; this is simply about personal debts… and grievances, to be repaid in full. Oh, and--"
Red glowed over Kingu's skin for a moment, then vanished. "Seeing as I have no further use for the Command Spells of the Triple Goddess Alliance, Ereshkigal and I may as well use them ourselves."
The Chain of Heaven launched themself into the air again a moment later. Gilgamesh's eyes tracked them through the sky, mouth left open with questions that would be forever unasked and unanswered.
Kingu became a streak of light among the stars, arcing back down toward Tiamat at such high speeds. They looked as blindingly radiant as Inanna had in her final moments. Kingu hit the goddess and split into a thousand different chains big enough to anchor battleships, wrapping tight around her form and holding her fast to the earth, forcing her to her knees in the streets of Uruk.
Gilgamesh found his words. "To bind the mother of all creation herself… That is a worthy successor to Enkidu."
"How-- how long can they hold her?" Ritsuka asked.
"I don't know," the king admitted. "The Chains of Heaven only hold tighter the more divinely-empowered the hostage, but Tiamat's strength, and her nature as a Beast, is unparalleled."
Even as they spoke, chains were beginning to snap one by one, Tiamat singing, forcing her clawed feet back under her.
"Gilgamesh!" Ereshkigal called from the mirror, held safely within an open portal of the King's Bab-ilu. "It's almost ready! But you have to sink Uruk yourself!"
"You tell me this now!?" Gilgamesh barked.
"Must I do everything!? I cannot directly interfere with the mortal world, remember? The earth beneath Uruk is as hollowed and weakened as I can make it, but the city still stands!"
"Very well." Gilgamesh lowered his arms and reached again into one of his portals, and withdrew--
What he retrieved was a sword -- Ritsuka thought -- but it was shaped almost as a cylinder, no blade nor point. In his Master's vision, it hurt just to look at, a dagger straight into his retina, a glitch in the world.
"Let us see if the mother of creation can withstand Ea," Gilgamesh challenged. "The sword given to Enki, that first split heaven and earth -- predating even her."
"Where in Enlil's name did you get that!?"
"From Enki, of course," Gilgamesh grinned. "He may not have taken form, like Inanna, but did you really think the trickster-god who stopped Abzu could bear to sit entirely idle through this cataclysm?"
The last chains of Enkidu shattered with a resounding ring, the broken links losing their golden luster to dead gray as they fell, and Tiamat rose to her feet, fixing her wide, nebulous eyes on Gilgamesh, and opened her fanged mouth to sing.
"Master!" Mash shouted, but fumbled in her dash as Tiamat's song pierced the air -- not from magic, but from the sheer head-pounding volume and pitch alone, undulating through their skulls. Gilgamesh cried out in pain and brought his hand to his head, clenching his eyes and teeth. The soldiers all around them fell to their knees screaming, blood dripping from their ears.
Only Ritsuka and Mash were left standing, protected from the magic by Maledisant. Them and a swarm of lahmu.
Ritsuka threw himself in front of the King of Uruk as they descended like rabid animals, swinging his sword and shield wildly, yelling his throat hoarse. Every stroke of Marduk cleaved through at least one lahmu, and Mash reached his side in moments, but they were endless, and had no sense of self-preservation. Ritsuka stabbed into one, dragged the sword out sideways to sink into the skull of another, throwing out his shield arm to bash another away -- and he convulsed in pain as a chitinous limb stabbed him in the gut.
"Master!" Mash cried, her terror and anger ripping her out of her daze. She leapt and grabbed the lahmu who had hurt him by its head, then smashed the edge of her shield into its toothy face over and over, ichor streaking across her furious visage.
"Ritsuka--!" Gilgamesh choked out, pulling him back by his shoulder, safely behind Gilgamesh as another lahmu came at them. Spikes drove into Gilgamesh's chest, but he struck them down with his axe, leaving their limbs hanging from his body. He had no time to waste with such trivialities, raising the sword Ea toward Tiamat.
"Insolent mongrels!" he breathed.
Spiraling red winds emerged from Ea, deafening Ritsuka, blowing away the horde of lahmu between the king and the goddess, consuming her in blinding light -- and causing the waters of the Chaos Tide all around Uruk to quake and splash as the earth beneath it gave way. The ziggurat lurched to one side, then fell straight down.
That Ritsuka or the ziggurat itself survived the fall into Irkalla must have been nothing less than Ereshkigal's Authority. The rest of the city was utterly destroyed by the descent as the ground gave way, rippling outward from Gilgamesh's blow like a cinder block dropped into a pond. The great city of Uruk freefell into the cavernous depths. Ritsuka rallied himself from his daze to find the ziggurat deposited safely in Ereshkigal's domain, lit by blue fire.
"Welcome back, seers of Chaldea," the goddess greeted, her armored heels clicking lightly on the stone beside them. "Now, allow me to show you my unfettered Authority."
Tiamat was already rising to her feet, but she seemed confused. So close to the Abyss she knew so well, the underworld was yet a domain completely beyond her -- outside of her understanding entirely -- and its miasma seemed to disorient and weaken her. She held her side where Chaos Tide poured from her like blood, wounded from Ea -- wounded and still not healing.
"It's working," Ritsuka breathed.
Ereshkigal raised her spear of dying sunlight, and more crimson lances appeared around Tiamat, huge in size. They crashed down around her, caging the goddess, and fire and lightning arced between them. Tiamat sang out, the sound still a disturbingly melodic song, but a high, panicked tone.
"My power here is absolute," Ereshkigal said. "Even over her. Life has no dominion here, in the land of death."
"Ritsuka!" Roman's voice cut in urgently.
The Chaos Tide began to pour out of Tiamat's wound more profusely -- out of her mouth, from her hollow glowing eyes, pooling around her ankles -- and it didn't dissipate like the deluge from above. It began to cling to the spears caging Tiamat, eating away at them. They sparked and began to lurch and lean, and the surging of the Chaos Tide intensified, the waters rising and spreading through Irkalla.
"How can she resist my Authority!?" Ereshkigal shouted, outraged. Her hood flew back as her eyes shone gold and her hair blazed into blue fire, and two more sets of colossal red spikes descended to cage Tiamat in.
"The Chaos Tide!" Roman shouted, hoarse with desperation. "It's the physical manifestation of her own Authority! Wherever it flows, it becomes Tiamat's domain!"
"How dare she try to usurp my Irkalla from me!" Ereshkigal fumed, her mane of blue flames whipping angrily. "I have one thing left in this existence. One! And you will not have it!"
Ritsuka growled. "Oh, what the hell do we have to do!?" he shouted. "How much more do you need!?"
He lurched, lightheaded, blood pouring slick over the hand held to his stomach, and Mash caught him by the shoulders.
"You've done enough, now," another voice said, another touch on both their shoulders. Ritsuka's pain faded away almost instantly. He watched as the Chaos Tide bloomed all throughout Irkalla, the black mud giving way to pink and blue flowers that filled the air with floating petals and the scent of summer. Ritsuka and Mash turned at the familiar voice--
"Nimue!?" Ritsuka gaped, then hesitated. The voice was certainly Nimue's, the face too, he thought, but she looked--
"You're... not Nimue… are you?" Mash asked.
"Technically… I never did say so." She smiled at them. It didn't quite reach her eyes, shining inhuman in the dimness. "I think the time for illusions are past, now. I need all my focus for this."
"Merlin?" Roman gasped.
"Goddess, no, I very much meant what I said about her," not-Nimue chuckled. "Though it was her glamour I wore. I thought it would be easier for you."
She was taller than Ritsuka now, more voluptuous, and her ethereal white robes had been replaced with an extravagant gown of black silk. Her face was the same, that long, braided snow-white hair, the regal elfin features, but her eyes, no longer soft lilac but a cold, piercing blue--
"There were several Sorceress-Queens in Britain, but I did not think you would simply trust the one true Lady of the Lake… if you knew who that truly was," said Morgan le Fae.
"Flowers… in my Irkalla," Ereshkigal wondered.
"Consider them my greeting gift to a fellow queen," Morgan gave her a short curtsy. "The Chaos Tide is life itself -- simple enough to use that energy for something other than healing Tiamat."
"How are you back? Did you come to Irkalla when you died?" Mash asked.
"In a manner of speaking, I suppose." Morgan smirked. "Roman already told you, did he not? The Abyss of Irkalla and the Inner Sea of Avalon have always been connected; distant lands separated by the same ocean. Once I retrieved my Servant form's memories, I came over directly this time, to finish things."
"Lahmu!" da Vinci interrupted. "She's creating more lahmu! Lots more!"
"Gallu!" Ereshkigal commanded them with a ringing pound of her spear against the stone. "I may not have Authority over living lahmu, but my guardian spirits are merciless and hungry."
"They will not match the lahmu's numbers for long. Finish your grandiose reveal, Caster," Gilgamesh bid, limping over to them. Ritsuka was only glad to see he had survived. "I have been playing along with your game for months in anticipation of your final play."
"What is it?" Ritsuka asked, wincing as he got his feet beneath him again. "What do we need to do to beat her?"
"Calm yourselves. As I said: you have already done all that was necessary," Morgan reiterated. "Tiamat is here, in the world of the dead, cut off from her proof of existence. Her Chaos Tide is turned against her. She is weakened and wounded by Inanna, by Gilgamesh, by Ereshkigal. And well before all of this even began, you had a chance encounter with one man... Twice, actually. Are you sure you've done your maths properly, Romani?" The witch smirked like a wolf.
"You mean--?"
"There's still another Servant?" Ritsuka said. He was struggling to do the quick math in his head. "I thought Kingu's artificial Saint Graph took the fourteenth slot."
"You assume that Rasputin was summoned by Gilgamesh -- but then how could he have aided you in the past, in other Singularities?" Morgan chuckled to herself, a private joke only she was in on. "And now, with a dozen Servants sacrificed as the fuel, and the sister sword Marduk as the catalyst, here by the shores of the Inner Sea… the conditions are perfect to once again fill the Saber role that King Leonidas left vacant."
Gilgamesh inclined his head. "So that is your plan… A Grand Servant. The original Heroic Spirits, meant to counter the Beasts of Calamity."
"How do I summon him?" Ritsuka rasped, swallowing the pain in his body, the numbness, the exhaustion. This was it. This moment was his entire reason for being, and he wouldn't fail here.
"Do you remember our talk of chain summons?" Morgan asked. "My summoning was the first, but it was your previous encounters, Fujimaru, and most importantly your unwavering dedication, which called him here already. May I present to you all: the Hunter of Beasts, dispatched from the Inner Sea of the Planet, armed with its very breath; Imperator Brittanorum, King of Knights, my own dearest little brother…"
Steady, metal-clad footsteps on the stones. The man who emerged from behind Morgan was chillingly familiar, yet at the same time completely unlike the Arthur Pendragons that Ritsuka had faced twice before. Like the Alter from Fuyuki, he was young and beardless, perhaps barely older than Ritsuka. Like the Wolf King from Camelot, he wore silver armor like moonlight over a flowing tunic of regal blue. As he pulled the traveler's hood back from his golden hair, his eyes were unlike either: they did not shine haunted gold in the dark and flames, nor glow divine peridot among too-white castle towers, but were a wide, calm jade, the color of deep woods and ponds teeming with life. He smiled very gently at Ritsuka as he stepped forward, an expression of deep understanding and empathy belied by his youthful appearance. He strode past Ritsuka and Mash, past Ereshkigal and Morgan, to the edge of the plateau, looking out at Tiamat. His gait was carefully measured, slow, and very soft.
Ritsuka was filled with the same almost-inexpressible awe as when Inanna had first appeared before him backlit against the sun. This was the true King Arthur, a legendary hero out of ancient myth, and every ounce of him reinforced that presence. Inanna had filled the air with unbridled power and eagerness; Arthur emanated quiet, utter surety. It felt like even the lahmu had hushed in his presence.
"Fallen Goddess," the Grand Saber murmured, "… Great Mother of Earth and Sky… Mourning wife of the Abyss. You deserve justice for his death. But that is beyond my power to give. All I can offer you… is an end to your pain."
"All that lives must die," Morgan said quietly. "Even us."
The Knight-King raised his arms and wind exploded outward, unveiling the Sword of Promised Victory in his hands. It began to glow, the light shuddering and intensifying as the blade emitted rhythmic thrums, phantasmal locks disengaging.
"This is a battle to save the world." Arthur said it like a prayer. His eyes opened, ablaze. "Excalibur!"
He swung the blade downward, and the underworld was split in two with light. Tiamat's song rang out one last time as the Sword of the Planet bit into her, fueled by the hopes of all humanity, of Mesopotamia and Ritsuka's own world crying out for their right to exist.
Chapter 15: Dreams in the Falling Stars
Summary:
A series of conversations held in the aftermath.
A proper goodbye is a rare and precious thing.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Ritsuka woke, he was laying in the grass of Sumer, Mash next to him, her cotton candy hair falling gently over her sun-kissed face. He stared at her for a long moment, content and smiling. And so, so tired.
They were back on the surface, not an udug in sight. He could hear birds, as if the calamity had never happened. The best they could figure, the Singularity had been stabilized -- for all intents and purposes resolved, but because they still had yet to recover the Holy Grail, they were still there. The only thing they could see to do was to begin the trek back toward Uruk -- or what remained to mark where the proud golden city once stood.
It was a short trip, all things considered. They didn't know how they had come back to the surface, but they hadn't been moved far from where Uruk had sunk. The crater left in its wake, quickly becoming a lake fed by the waters of the Euphrates, was a peaceful, even beautiful sight. The water was dark with mud and silt as the new lakeshores shifted and settled, but it was the opaque greenish-brown of life -- not the oily-black darkness of the Abyss. Creatures, deer and foxes and falcons, came to drink from the new source. Ritsuka hadn't been sure those animals had even survived the udug.
Even more unbelievable than the serene picture before them, as if the dark soil had never been flooded by the Chaos Tide, were its human denizens -- or humanoid. Two figures lounging on the shores of the new lake, overlooking what had once been their home, and utterly convincing Ritsuka that he must have died in the fight against Tiamat after all.
"Inanna!" Ritsuka yelled, racing over the grass to reach them, afraid to be a single second too late. "Gilgamesh!"
"Who else would you expect?" Inanna asked them, grinning broadly and, when they reached her, lifting them both into a tight hug. "I could not witness my city's last moments… the least I should be bound to do is stand a short vigil at its grave."
"An acceptably beautiful mausoleum, I think," Gilgamesh added. Without thinking about it, Ritsuka threw himself at the king as well, but Gil only laughed heartily as he returned the embrace.
"How?" Ritsuka asked. "I thought you were… And Inanna--"
"We have our Berserker to thank for that," Gil said.
"Rasputin? He's still alive, too?"
"He found me, fading, in the depths of the Chaos Tide," Inanna said, "And used another healthy chunk of those Command Spells of his to save Siduri and I."
"But I… I felt our bond snap. I was sure that…"
"I don't know," Inanna shrugged. "You'd have to ask him, but unfortunately, he's elected to remain with Ereshkigal for the moment."
Gilgamesh chuckled to himself. "She may soon reconsider her desire for company."
"But be careful around him, you two," Inanna warned. "That so-called priest isn't all that he seems. Nimue--" she shot Gilgamesh a dirty, knowing look "--hid it well, but I knew I was right when I first thought I sensed divinity within him."
"Divinity?" Mash repeated. "But… Kirei Kotomine was a normal human according to our records at the time of his death, and Rasputin isn't a deity."
Gilgamesh held up his hand in a gesture of calm assurance. "Kotomine Kirei holds multitudes and contradictions... in this particular twisting of fate especially. Let it be enough that he has been, despite everything, truly earnest that he is your ally. However… in the infinite turnings of the cosmos, all things are still possible in the future. Inanna's wisdom should not be ignored. Not completely."
"Oh? How incredibly thoughtful of you," she glared again.
"Is yet another chance at life so mundane a thing to you that you cannot continue to stand my presence in exchange?"
"Clearly you've never had to deal with yourself," she shot back.
They bickered as strongly as before, but Ritsuka saw the way their eyes lingered in each others' direction, the relieved curve to their proud smirks. He would never forget the rage of Gilgamesh when he had been told of Inanna's fall.
"Nimue…" Mash chewed on the thought. "Why would Morgan le Fae help us?"
"Because she, too, is a denizen of this same world?" Gilgamesh guessed. "I only know she asked me to abide by her ruse, and conceal her identity from you."
"Morgan le Fae could have been a lot more helpful!" Roman cried out, exasperated and spent.
"Would you have trusted her?" the King countered. "Even had you, she does not require your trust. She provided her aid at all the times we required it, and we would not have this victory without her. So why does it matter what you believed?"
"Where is she now?" Ritsuka asked.
"Back in Avalon, I would imagine -- with King Arthur."
"And… what happens to you two, now?"
Gilgamesh reclined on the ground, lacing his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes to the sunlight. "I have been relieved of my duties. I have only been granted this brief reprieve to congratulate you on your hard-fought victory -- on saving the people of Sumer."
He snapped his fingers, and a small gilded table of wine and fruits was left on the shore beside him by one of his gates.
"I didn't think you'd retire until you worked yourself to death -- again," Ritsuka said.
Inanna laughed.
"What?"
Gil sighed. "Unfortunately, I am dead. I died on that ziggurat. I have now taken the place appointed to me as the Judge of the Underworld -- a job with a great deal more work ahead, with all that has transpired in the past few months here. Ereshkigal, in her infinite mercy, has allowed me one day here to see to the necessary arrangements for your departure -- a privilege allowed by Enlil and the others only because of my own divine heritage, and surely because of an unspoken knowledge that Inanna alone would be woefully incapable of resolving things correctly."
"You really should be more careful how you speak to the one who will be telling the survivors of Sumer about your final stand," Inanna warned. "I, for my part, will spend what time I have remaining as a Servant shepherding our people to a new home, wherever that will be. Well… Siduri will lead them, that is. That is how it should be; the crisis is over and now humanity will have to lead itself. But since I am still here for now, my power will be hers to call upon for as long as it may be required."
"So she must be saddled with the burden of responsibility and leadership as well as your incessant voice remaining within her head for the rest of her days? I should beg you to spare her such torture."
"I'm sure Siduri can handle things without me. But if I left, then who would keep you in your place down in Irkalla? Ereshkigal surely isn't prepared for you."
Yeah. They liked each other. Ritsuka chuckled. "And you can keep repairing things with your sister."
Inanna bit her lip, tilting her head just a bit -- unable to say no, but still unwilling to say yes.
"What about the… the real gods?" Mash asked.
"Solomon's seal remains in place, for now," Gilgamesh said. "I believe they have chosen to make their forced step back permanent. Already during my reign, their influence has ever been on the decline. Although our people still believe in the gods and pray to them, they have come to understand the strength in self-determination which I sought to foster. Inanna and Ereshkigal, meanwhile… as Heroic Spirits of humanity, they have chosen where they now stand."
"You're talking like this world is going to keep going," Ritsuka said. He didn't want to, but he had to know. Maybe Gilgamesh could give him answers. "But these Singularities… when we fix them, the quantum timelocks are corrected, and things go back to normal, don't they? This world… for all intents and purposes… it disappears, like... like editing out a chapter that doesn't fit the new manuscript."
"Not exactly," Gilgamesh said. "The concept of quantum timelocks ensures that the general course of history, important pivotal events, cannot be changed once they are past, but it does prevent alternate events from unfolding. All beginnings and ends already exist in the universe; it is by our actions that we determine which path we follow. That is why Solomon's plan relied on a series of Grails placed for maximum chaos at pivotal timelocks, and why all those changes can break the system, when executed so. By resolving this Singularity, you have ensured once again that this timeline does not end in the utter collapse of humanity; therefore, although you may return, in time, to a world where Sumer suffered only a slow, natural decline, our world here will not simply disappear. Your time here, the lives lost and the lives you saved, are real, though our paths diverge."
"Even if we did disappear," Inanna interrupted, "There's no point worrying about what's unchangeable before the laws of the universe. The only thing we can do is keep moving forward under the assumption that tomorrow, and every day after that, we will still be here, defiant, and we will still need to find our path."
"That's… so like you," Ritsuka laughed. "When you… When we thought you died…"
Inanna grinned. "You beat Tiamat. That's what you did. Without me, without Gilgamesh, without Kirei. It wasn't Morgan or Ereshkigal who did it. It was by you, and you alone, that a Grand Servant was summoned to defeat the Primordial Goddess of Creation."
"Now drink!" Gilgamesh raised his cup. "Your king demands it!"
The petulant "I thought you retired," from Inanna was drowned out by the enthusiastic "Yes, your Majesty!" from the Chaldeans.
Ritsuka wanted nothing more than to spend the day there, relaxing like they hadn't since that single day before their expedition to the observatory. They had made a promise to Gilgamesh, on that same trip, to regale him of the tales of the rest of their Singularities. But the sun of the Age of Gods was already beginning to dip toward the horizon, and it was time for them to part ways: Gilgamesh to return to his new duties in the underworld, Inanna and Siduri to return to their people, and Mash and Ritsuka to return to Chaldea, to face their final challenge.
"We still need the Grail," Ritsuka said. "We have to remove the source of instability from this time, and we need to trace Solomon back to his base."
"I told you when you first arrived, no Grail will solve your problems, or mine," Gilgamesh dismissed. "And as I just said, I have already taken care of all the tasks necessary for your departure."
Mash scowled. "No, but--"
Gilgamesh held up an imperious, silencing hand, stopping even Mash's determined objection. "The King--"
"Former King," Inanna corrected.
Gilgamesh scowled. "The former King of Uruk -- and current reigning King of the Dead -- the Great Gilgamesh, has spoken. I bid you now return to your own time. If you are so insistent on baubles and souvenirs, why don't you keep those wine goblets?"
Ritsuka opened his mouth to snap back that they needed to retrieve the Grail, but stopped short. Something about the way he said that…
He stared down at the two goblets held by himself and Mash: shining gold, warm to the touch, like a running engine.
Inanna winked at them.
"Take your souvenir from your battle with Tiamat, with gracious farewell from my new employer in Irkalla," Gilgamesh repeated with a smile, "And a twin parting gift from Kingu and myself, to always remember Uruk."
"... We will," Ritsuka swore.
"Grail… retrieved, Doctor," Mash reported. She couldn't believe it any more than Ritsuka could. Immediately, the two Chaldeans' forms began to blur with light at the edges, the return Rayshift to Chaldea beginning immediately. No matter how much they may have wanted to spend even a few more minutes with their friends, every moment spent in Rayshift was another moment Roman and the Command Staff needed to constantly verify their existence, or risk losing them completely to the world's own corrective processes.
Inanna and Gilgamesh watched them fade.
"Did your vaunted clairvoyance predict this?" she asked him.
"Our victory?" Gilgamesh sighed. "No. I can see only the most likely outcome. Figuring out the correct path to avoid it is up to me."
"No wonder we needed help."
"But I believed, as I always have, in the power of humanity to pull through in the most desperate times."
"Not that… This," Inanna said. She tugged his head back by the hair and kissed him from above, floating behind him.
"That I should be cursed with you even beyond my grave?" Gilgamesh chuckled. "I should have guessed. But no -- my clairvoyance allows me to read everything around me with perfect clarity, but reading oneself is not so simple."
"Oh, you think I'm easy to read?"
"Like a clay tablet. It says: I am a terrible goddess."
"How boring. I'll have to work extra hard to keep your life entertaining, then. Your after-life, I mean."
GIlgamesh stared out over his Sumer, so peaceful now that all was done, even with the soil still dark and fragrant with the mark of the Chaos Tide.
"Tell me, then, with your perfect sight…" Inanna said, suddenly serious. "Do you really think they'll make it through what’s still to come?"
Gilgamesh straightened his back, crossed his arms. "Of their victory over the Beast of Pity, I am absolutely sure. It is not a matter of strength of arms, but of the tireless efforts they have already seen through to the bitter end. If they are capable of meeting what will come after… of that I cannot say. Sometimes what is lost should remain lost -- but who can blame the lost if they do not agree?"
He should have been resting. Everyone should have.
Neither of them were going to, of course. Sleep avoided Ritsuka like the plague. He could still hear the alarms. They had been silenced hours ago, but the ringing lingered in the back of his mind.
In less than three hours now, Chaldea would collide with Solomon's Temple of Time. They didn't have much time left. As soon as Roman had managed to figure out how to find Solomon's lair from the Grail they brought back from Tiamat, they had begun the work to Rayshift the entire facility to its location. This is what they had been preparing for -- they had less than a day before the history Solomon had established, the Incineration of Humanity, was set in stone, so there was no use holding anything back. Ritsuka needed all the Servants who had gathered in Chaldea for this final push.
When Ritsuka entered the cafeteria, he paused. Most of the lights were dark, shrinking the room designed for use by more than 200 staff down to just the small front counter in the middle of a sea of darkness. But the light coming from the counter wasn't the normal fluorescent white. It was more like... the light of a sunrise filtering through a wavering leafy canopy, gold the sort of wild fields of grain.
Almost as soon as Ritsuka could detect the difference, it faded, and Mumei's head jerked up to look at him. Luckily, the Archer had a penchant for staying up far too late.
"Master," he greeted.
"Hey," Ritsuka said, blinking, still unsure what exactly he had just seen. "Am I... interrupting?"
The Archer scoffed. "Of course not. I was just lost in thought. But you should be--"
"Resting -- I know."
The Servant smirked ruefully. "Let me make you something, then."
He turned away and used magecraft to project a pot in his hands, placing it on the burners.
"What is it?" Ritsuka asked.
"This? Yazdi coffee. Or, something close, anyway. Traditionally it would be boiled for four to six hours. There's a whole process of filtering with silk and a hot coal... But we don't have that kind of time. I'm going to bring a nice batch of grounds to a hot and quick boil instead."
"Can't sleep, so may as well not try?"
"Something like that."
"I thought you'd want to make me some kind of healthy food, or tea."
Mumei shrugged, almost helplessly. "No time to make enough food for everyone this time. MREs are more efficient; they'll get you the calories you'll need. And everyone seems to have taken a liking to my coffee."
"Okay. So what defines this particular kind of coffee?"
"The long boiling process, firstly; until the coffee grounds are completely dissolved in water, and then however much sugar you want for taste and texture, too. Then a little infusion of rosewater and cardamom. Ginger is also traditional to the region, but I'll be leaving that out. Going for a little cinnamon instead -- it always pairs nicely with coffee."
"What region?"
Mumei looked back over his shoulder. "Yazd, Iran. About 500 kilometers, roughly, due east from the mouth of the Euphrates. It's traditionally drunk during the mourning rituals of Al-Muharram."
Ritsuka's eyes lowered to the countertop in front of him, suddenly feeling heavy. "… But we don't have anything to mourn, right? Gilgamesh said so. All those people… they lived because of us. History is going to live because of us."
"Not us," Mumei corrected. "You, Ritsuka. But I know you too well to think you really believe that."
His face crunched in on itself. Unable to bear the weight. He buried it in the crook of his elbow.
"I fucked up," he croaked. "A hundred-and-thirty-thousand people, Mumei. I know we can't save everyone… the people in France… the people on both sides of the war in America, in Rome… all those people at the gates of Camelot… but this…"
"I know," Mumei said. "… I know."
He slid the cup of coffee down gently in front of Ritsuka. The boy raised his eyes to appraise the cup cautiously, then the Servant -- who had already turned back to begin cleaning his equipment. He was always considerate like that, in his own ways. In time, Ritsuka raised his head again, and began to drink.
"It's good." Coffee for mourning. This was as much as they could offer those people. "... I lost my head. Six Singularities and I've managed to keep it together somehow, but this one, the one where I needed to be an anchor the most…"
"Nobody can stand alone against the tides forever," Mumei said. "I know that better than most. It's not fair for anyone to expect you to be fearless and smiling in the face of every single calamity the world keeps throwing at you. It's not fair for you to hold yourself to that."
"Maybe," Ritsuka said tiredly. Your worst enemy is yourself. Mumei said that often. "But I wish I could be that person."
Mumei paused. "No, you don't. No matter how much weight you bear for others, it still takes its toll on the inside. It doesn't heal anything. You need time -- to not have to hold up under that pressure, to relax, to just be yourself, and safe with people who care about you. That's the only thing that will really keep you -- and them -- sane, and healthy, and able to keep going."
He sighed. "Unfortunately, we've got less and less time."
"I just… I can't be like that," Ritsuka choked on his words. "Vulnerable. Weak. I -- I should be able to, but I can't--… I-I'm terrified. Inanna was right. I'm so afraid that -- that if I show people how much I really hurt, I -- they'll just leave. They always leave. Even my -- my mom. She couldn't even--"
He made a pathetic sound, the kind of quiet, breathy whine that hurt his throat as the tears began to spill out onto his cheeks. "It's not fair that anyone feels this way," he sobbed. "Nobody should have to feel like I do. It's not fair that -- that so often, I'm right, and the moment you can't keep up the act, people are -- are disgusted with you."
Mumei let him cry, just standing there patiently, exuding acceptance. It didn't last too long -- Ritsuka was too tired to have many tears in him, and too scarred. The fear and self-loathing was too overwhelming for mere tears.
"If you're so afraid, why can you tell me?" Mumei asked.
"I don't know," Ritsuka croaked. "I guess I think you're the same."
Mumei blinked in shock, then laughed. "Sort of, I guess you're right. I've never been good at letting people in. I'll let them help me, I'll tell them everything, but when the chips are down -- the last thing I want is to be the one anyone else thinks they need to save. It's not easy, Ritsuka. It's not something you can fix overnight. You just have to keep being brave, and mindful, and keep working on it. You've got it wrong: it's easy to be strong for others. It's much, much harder to let yourself be weak. That takes trust… which is all too often betrayed."
"I trust everyone in Chaldea," Ritsuka said. "I trust Mash. I trust you all with my life."
"This isn't about your life," Mumei said. "You value your life a lot more than I ever did, to your credit, but this is about something more valuable still. But despite your fears, you don't deserve to be alone, and we're not going to leave you like that. You can stay here as long as you need to."
Ritsuka sipped more of his drink, trying to soothe his now-aching throat. The rose fragrance was interesting; not something he would have sought out, but not unpleasant. Siduri would have liked it, he mused.
"I met Arthur," he said suddenly.
Mumei blinked rapidly again, seeming just as stunned. "The real one this time?"
"I think they're all real, from different… you know," Ritsuka shrugged. "But… yeah. The one you see in the books. He... you could just tell."
"What did you think of him?"
"He… had a soft smile," Ritsuka recalled. "It's weird, that that's the first thing I think of."
"Not at all," Mumei said. "He always did. But I hope that's not the smile you're hoping to emulate. Arthur sacrificed his whole life for his kingdom, for duty, and it was that implacable smile that cost him in the end."
"What do you mean?"
"Arthur grew up in a world where morality was defined by the strongest. Warlords and petty princes squabbling over the remains of the Roman frontier, while raiders stole land and lives from them. He wanted to use his power to not only protect his people, but build a system that changed how people thought, a societal mindset that would continue to protect everyone going forward."
"That sounds good."
"It is. It's a beautiful dream. But it's hard to achieve perfection in an imperfect world. The people didn't understand why Arthur did the things he did, why he was so obsessed with writing laws instead of throwing lavish parties. And with no legitimate heirs, less and less war to keep everyone united and occupied... They started to think of him as weak, even crazed -- even though he showed them nothing but what he thought was the perfect picture of a king. Then things with Lancelot and Guinevere…"
Mumei chewed over his thoughts for a moment. "Arthur didn't allow enough thought for himself. He wanted to be the anchor for all of Britain. Even after his death, as a Servant, he thought he had failed, and that the only answer was that he never should have been king in the first place. It took a long time to convince him that it wasn't his fault."
"You knew him," Ritsuka realized, for the first time. "Not just in Singularity X -- you knew the real Arthur, before that."
Mumei smiled enigmatically. "I told you: a long time ago, I had my own Holy Grail War. It's complicated."
"But he seemed… content."
"Good. I hope so. I hope I seem content, too. But I wasn't always. You've seen that, in both of us; back in Fuyuki… in Camelot. You want to be the light for everyone around you… But you have to make sure you don't burn them, or burn out."
The color, the radiance, and the lifespan of a star alike -- all are determined by what they burn deep within their heart.
"You're going to stumble. You're going to fall. Someday you won't be able to get back up on your own. Everyone goes through that, a billion wanderers each trying to find their own paths. You can stay down for as long as you need to, and you don't have to do it in the dark, alone. Let others help you, forgive yourself when you stumble, and you'll be able to keep going."
"Is that how you do it?"
Mumei barked a short chuckle. "No, I'm terrible at it. That's why I'm telling you to do better. Arthur seems to have gotten it. And if that stubborn fool can, anyone can."
The Archer leaned back against the countertop, sipping at his own plain black coffee. "It's going to be hard, this next part. But we're all going to be there for you. We know you can do it. We trust you -- the real you, not any brave face you put on. We trust the Ritsuka who feels so deeply that he's been able to bond with eight different Servants at once. That's our Master -- the one who's going to save humanity."
Ritsuka looked up at the clock. Two hours left now.
"I hope you're right," he said.
"Trust yourself," Mumei advised. "I know that's hard. But you've made every right move so far. Because we're all still alive to talk about it. Now… go back and spend some time with Mash. Put your nerves at ease. There'll be time to worry once the alarms start up again."
Mumei watched him finish his coffee and go, leaving the Archer in the dark cafeteria. The boy reminded him too much of himself. Which, ironically, had in the past meant that Mumei should despise him vehemently.
But here he was, fulfilling his dream -- helping the world more than he ever thought was possible, and dragging Mumei right along with him. If that was some kind of vindication for everything else Mumei had done as a Counter-Guardian, he'd take it. But he'd give it all back again if it meant keeping Ritsuka from ending up like him.
He held his hands out over the countertop again and let his mind drift. Beneath his fingers, the traced edges of Avalon, the scabbard of Excalibur, appeared in faint gold, like blueprints in mist. An afterimage of his heart and soul. Without Arthur, its healing properties were minimal, but the calming effect it had on Mumei's mind were almost as valuable.
"Since he's not here, I'll be your sword, Ritsuka," he muttered. "You've got six other Servants all thinking the same thing. And what else are we good for, but granting wishes?"
Mumei didn't kid himself. Not everyone was going to make it through. Not a chance. But Ritsuka would. He still had a long road ahead of him, a lot of life left to live. If it cost the rest of them everything, he deserved that much.
Notes:
Thank you for attending this very special extended chapter of Cup of Depresso
My priorities are split and frayed right now IRL, but I'm pretty much set on doing a short version of Temple of Time for this AU/rewrite and, by popular request (i.e. both my beta readers asked me about it because they know me too well and I need very little encouragement) probably Camelot. I also really want to do one of the Lostbelts, probably Olympus, but... that's a very daunting prospect, because it will be an extremely different story. Right now I have nothing but a few scattered notes for that, so it's a long way off.
I hope you enjoyed. Please, let me know in the comments what you think -- about Ritsuka, Mash, Inanna, Gilgamesh, anything. Do you want more of this? I know FGO AUs are a dime a dozen, but hopefully this one has provided a little something unique from me.
arbolkauri on Chapter 1 Sun 11 May 2025 06:25AM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 1 Sun 11 May 2025 06:36AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 11 May 2025 06:39AM UTC
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Touch_Dom on Chapter 2 Tue 05 Aug 2025 08:16AM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 3 Tue 12 Aug 2025 04:30PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 12 Aug 2025 04:58PM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 3 Wed 13 Aug 2025 04:03PM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 5 Wed 27 Aug 2025 05:41AM UTC
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WispyFrost on Chapter 5 Sat 30 Aug 2025 04:32AM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 6 Mon 08 Sep 2025 07:39AM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 8 Tue 30 Sep 2025 07:56AM UTC
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Touch_Dom on Chapter 10 Thu 23 Oct 2025 08:46AM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 10 Thu 23 Oct 2025 06:35PM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 14 Fri 21 Nov 2025 11:27AM UTC
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WispyFrost on Chapter 15 Tue 25 Nov 2025 08:01AM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 15 Wed 26 Nov 2025 03:46AM UTC
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WispyFrost on Chapter 15 Wed 26 Nov 2025 04:08PM UTC
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Touch_Dom on Chapter 15 Tue 25 Nov 2025 12:53PM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 15 Wed 26 Nov 2025 03:50AM UTC
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bloodundseamen on Chapter 15 Wed 26 Nov 2025 08:08AM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 15 Mon 01 Dec 2025 12:44AM UTC
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arbolkauri on Chapter 15 Wed 26 Nov 2025 09:58AM UTC
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SnarkySharke on Chapter 15 Mon 01 Dec 2025 12:34AM UTC
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