Fate: Genesis

Archer lounged in a tree watching the team squabble and argue as usual. They seemed to be getting along better today though, so that was good. They had almost broken out in a fight amongst themselves yesterday - he had seen it from across the city - and his master had sent him to stop it; but they had already sorted it out by the time he got there. For now, Melvin told him to keep an eye on them; make sure no more problems arose while the “adults” were gone.

Everything was going smoothly, no one was arguing, everyone was safe.

A voice rang in his ears. Archer, we need help!

The little golden boy leapt up from his tree branch, the tiny wings on his back flapping wildly to steady his sudden movement, and he shot into the air leaving a trail of golden sparkles. Something was very wrong.

He followed his master’s call until he reached the edge of the city. Even from this distance he could see his master. He was bleeding from an enormous gash across his chest, hands glowing with a magical aura as he cast healing on both himself and Waver. Waver was no better off; a red slash across his own chest proved that. His hand placed on the ground creating ripples in the earth to fend off whatever was attacking them. A large black horse stood before them with Rider mounted on top; eyes were filled with rage and lightning surrounding his body. Stepping over the destroyed streets was a tall tan-skinned man with long curly white hair in a black suit. The black fibers seemed as if they were going to rip under the strain of the muscles they were containing. A bloodied broadsword hung in the man’s left hand.

Without slowing, he readied an arrow in his ornate golden bow. He let it fly. The arrow split into four glistening arrows that circled each other in a spiral as they came down on the offender. In a swift movement the man grabbed one of the arrows out of the air, but the other three took him by surprise as they embedded themselves in his arm. Unflinching, he ripped them out of his skin, tearing his sleeve away as well, and tossed them to the ground. What was this man?

The man kept walking towards his master. The sword made two sickeningly fast movements, one towards his master and one towards his master’s partner. Melvin stumbled back, but Waver dropped to the ground, a pool of blood seeping into the cracked earth. Rider screamed and ran at the attacker, bringing his sword down against the aggressor. Again, the man was hit and his course was not altered.

Melvin, eyes wide with fear, raised his hands and a rainbow spherical wall formed around himself and Waver. He dropped to Waver’s side, mouth muttering something unintelligible, tears forming in his eyes.

The man raised his sword again to strike the wall, but Archer leapt in front of him.

“Wait! Please!” He cried, outstretching his arms protectively. “Please don’t kill them.”

The man lowered his sword. Rider carefully moved his steed between the groups while keeping his sword at the ready.

“And what would you do to protect them?” The man asked, voice rumbling, sending a chill down Archer’s spine.

Archer hesitated. He looked back at Melvin and Waver. His master held Rider’s master tightly in his arms. He turned back to the towering man. “I’d do anything,” he finally said.

The man hummed approvingly. “Make a contract with me, and I will spare them. Otherwise, I will not hesitate to cut you and your masters down.”

Archer swallowed dryly.

“What are you thinking!?” Rider growled. “You can’t join him. What would your master think?”

“I think… he would be happy to be alive,” Archer said quietly. “I’ll do it… for my master.”

The man nodded. He placed his sword between them with the point in the ground. “Place your hand on the sword.”

Archer raised his hand hesitantly, and then gently touched the blade. The weapon pulsed with a deep magic and he could feel his contract being changed. The man’s hand rested on the hilt of the sword and a new set of command seals formed. Archer let out a tense breath.

“And what of you, little boy,” the man said turning to Rider, “Your master is dying, if we leave now, Archer’s former master will have time to save him.”

“I-…” Rider stuttered, before retracting. He looked back through the shimmering wall at his master on the ground, blood trickling down Melvin’s legs. The seal on his hand was fading. Even through the colorful walls, he could see the color leaving his master’s skin. “... Okay.”

“Very well.” He gestured to the weapon. Again, Rider placed his hand on the sword and it pulsed with mana. The seals on the man’s hand morphed and they combined into a new seal that led up the man’s sleeveless arm. “Now if you will come with me.”

“Can… Can I say goodbye first?” Archer asked hopefully.

The man sighed, like a tired father to his child. “Very well.”

Archer turned back to the force field. “Master?”

Melvin jerked his head up from Waver’s. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his eyes were wide. His gaze wavered between Archer and the man who had brought down his partner. Archer did what he could to try and convey an unspoken assurance, and Melvin lowered the shield.

Archer shuffled slowly to his master; he glanced down at Melvin’s hand that now only had the slight scarred markings of what used to be a command seal. “I’m sorry, Master,” he whispered, “I couldn’t let you die.”

Rider knelt beside Archer and placed a small hand on his own master’s cheek; his rosey skin contrasting Waver’s paling cheek. “Take care of him,” he said to Melvin.

“Always,” Melvin choked.

Archer wrapped his arms around Melvin. His master leaned into him, refusing to let go of Waver. Archer and Rider stood and turned to face their new master. The man turned and began to silently walk away; the two servants followed suit.

As they walked, the man began to reach into his inner coat pocket. “I would request that you take a potion that I have prepared specifically for this situation. It will strengthen you even though you have passed to a new master.” He holds out two small glass vials of thick black liquid. Rider and Archer share a glance of concern, before hesitantly nodding and accepting the vials. They raise them together and, for a moment, Archer was blind. All he could hear was coughing, and all he could feel was an acidic burning in his body and soul. Eventually, the burning subsided and his sight returned. He had fallen to his knees, and across from him Rider had done the same. They panted, almost in unison from the experience, and Archer looked up into Rider’s now golden eyes.

“Keep up, you two,” their new master called.