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Saber enters the Fourth Holy Grail War in a cold stone room that reeks of rotting flesh.
Her Master is kneeling on the floor outside of the circle, clutching his arm in pain. His hair is bone white, and one eye is clearly recently blind—he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of turning his head to look at things yet. He cranes his neck to look into the darkness, searching for something. All Saber can hear is wet, slimy sounds that might be maggots.
The man—her Master—shivers at the sounds, his whole body trembling. Already pity claws at her chest.
For a moment she thinks he’s an old man, but she soon realizes her mistake: he’s young in body but old in the soul. She knows a little about that experience.
“I ask of you: are you my Master?” Her words don’t echo against the walls as she had expected. A sound barrier? Interesting…
“I am,” the man says, his voice hoarse. “My name…is Kariya Matou.” He’s thoughtful, to use the English naming convention for the King of Britain.
Saber allows herself a soft smile and inclines her head. “Master Kariya, your servant Saber is here to fight on your behalf.”
She has never seen a man so overjoyed.
---
Saber soon learns that she isn’t fighting on Kariya’s behalf.
“Uncle Kariya?” A little girl with purple hair peers around the door of their simple room (only a bed and a lamp, more prison than bedroom). “Uncle Kariya, I…I heard you’re leaving…?”
Kariya—who was sleeping fitfully on the bed—groans and rolls over to see who it is.
Saber looks between the two and tries to find a family resemblance. “‘Uncle’…?”
The girl’s sad, dim eyes alight on Saber, and she lets out a squeak of surprise. Saber smiles reassuringly at her, and the girl calms down slightly. She looks ready to scurry away like a mouse at any moment, just like her Uncle. What a strange family…
Kariya very slowly gets to his feet, a warm smile on his lips despite the obvious pain he feels. “Sakura, are you here to see me off?”
Sakura Matou nods and smiles back—her eyes keep flicking to Saber, fear slowly giving way to curiosity and awe. Saber isn’t sure why—she’s wearing a black track suit just as her Master is, so clearly nothing is out of the ordinary…?
Sakura finally speaks to her. “Big sister”—Saber’s heart swells unexpectedly—“are you going to help Uncle Kariya bring me and my real family together again?”
“I swear it,” Saber says solemnly, meaning every word.
Sakura has a beautiful smile, like the first spring blossoms. Saber can see why someone who struggles even to take a step would join the Holy Grail War for her.
Kariya and Sakura have time for only one hug, but even from the doorway Saber can feel their desperate fondness for each other. She has her back to them, both to give them privacy and to make sure that vile patriarch of the Matous doesn’t come around the corner to interrupt.
She hears small feet coming toward her and looks down to see Sakura rummaging in the pockets of her purple dress. Her brows are furrowed in as serious as scowl as a little girl can muster, and it reminds Saber sharply of one of her cupbearers in Camelot.
“Where is it…ah!” Sakura pulls a dark blue ribbon out of her left pocket. It looks nearly identical to the one Saber wears in battle. “Here, big sister!”
Saber carefully takes the ribbon from Sakura’s tiny hand, vaguely suspecting where this is going. “Thank you, Sakura. Is this…a gift?”
An eager nod. “Yes. It’s one of my sister’s ribbons…Grampa tried to throw it away, but I saved it. It can be a good luck charm—if you want it…”
Saber bunches her hair with one hand and manages to tie the ribbon with the other. The knot is probably lopsided, but she doesn’t care. “It’s a wonderful good luck charm. I’ll wear it proudly.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kariya watching the exchange with a sad smile just barely tinged with hope.
---
The Holy Grail War starts with the surprise murder of Assassin.
Saber and Kariya are hiding in one of Fuyuki’s many back alleys when they get the news from one of her Master’s “familiars”. He calls them “rowdy boarders” when he’s in a good mood, but even as he jokes Saber can see the worms squirming underneath his skin.
When they burst free as insects to scout around, it ironically doesn’t seem as horrid, and yet it pains Saber to see them buzz around her Master’s pallid face, their small shadows dappling his skin like bruises.
“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” Saber asks, once the bug has given Kariya the news and has burrowed back beneath his skin. “With Avalon, I could—”
Kariya’s obviously trying to smile reassuringly, but she isn’t Sakura. “D-Don’t bother, Saber. This is my price to pay. Better me than Sakura, right?”
Saber nods reluctantly, a knot tightening in her stomach.
---
Saber’s heart practically soars as she duels Lancer, even though she knows Kariya’s reluctant about this fight.
She doesn’t quite understand why—after all, an enemy Servant is an enemy Servant—but she suspects that there’s one Master in particular he can’t wait to engage. Well, he’ll have to wait. This is a difficult opponent, and one I would not want to keep alive for long.
She reconsiders those thoughts if only for a moment when faced with Lancer’s welcome sense of honor and chivalry. But now her thoughts are tinged with sadness. This Heroic Spirit would be a welcome addition to the Round Table…if only.
Suddenly, Kariya yells out: “Saber! Another Servant’s coming!”
“What?” Saber whips around—as does Lancer, narrowly “avoiding” striking off her head with his spear.
Then she senses it—no, not just senses, is practically engulfed by two powerful presences at once. One is a knight decked in crimson and ebony armor and darker shadows. The other is a glittering, imposing figure in blinding gold and blood red.
“Master, your orders?” Saber asks Kariya, who is standing behind her too shocked to move. “Kariya!”
Then Kariya’s lips twist into a feral grin. “The golden boy. Kill him. Kill him now.”
Saber obediently lunges after the golden man—who seems more amused than anything—only to find the black knight Berserker roaring between them. She quickly raises Excalibur to block him, but Berserker’s fast. He slams her down into the concrete with a swift kick. Blood splatters out of her mouth.
She quickly struggles to her feet, her vision blurry. The golden Archer—those polearms and swords jutting out of the shimmering portals behind him are an excellent clue—has distracted Berserker with a volley of projectiles and insults. Good, I have an opening—
Kariya stumbles over and grabs her by the arm. “Saber, quick, we have to leave—there’s too many to fight at once.”
Saber quickly spirits them away, unsure if she’s relieved or worried.
---
Daybreak isn’t immediately clear at first, in the new grimy alleyway they’re calling home. (They’re all starting to look the same to Saber.) Saber still isn’t in good shape enough to fight again—they spent so long trying to hide from other Masters that they haven’t had time to go on the prowl themselves.
Kariya slowly wakes up. Saber can hear his bones creak and his muscles pop. It’s a disturbing sound, but it’s also a reminder that he needs to be looked after more than most Masters. He yawns loudly and sits up on his makeshift “bed” made of black trash bags.
“Ngh…how long’ve you been awake, Saber?” he mumbles, rubbing sleep-crust from his good eye.
“Merely a few minutes.” Saber fidgets on her bag-bed, wincing at the obnoxious screech that follows—the material is slippery, thick and prone to such noises when moved.
Kariya scratches his head and looks down at the garbage-covered ground. He attempts a smile, but it soon drowns in his obvious discomfort.
Saber senses this isn’t the time to let him wallow. “What is it, Kariya? Speak.”
It takes what feels like an eternity for him to meet her eyes. “Well, uh…in order to make you stronger…we need a mana transfer, right?” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Too damn bad there’s no good food to eat here, huh?”
Ah, so that’s it. Saber nods. “If you are comfortable with mana transfer during congress, I willingly accept your offer.”
“Here, though?” Kariya actually looks appalled. It would be funny in any other situation. “But…it’s filthy here…”
“We have no time to be picky.” Saber smiles as reassuringly as she can. “A knight cares for her liege lord as best she can under any circumstance.”
She knows Kariya doesn’t care about the décor, not really: there’s a woman he loves, and Saber can’t be that woman. Still, Sakura’s happiness is on the line, and Saber knows he will do many deeds great and dubious for her sake.
“Alright,” Kariya says slowly. His hands fumble for his belt. “I-I think I remember how the transfer works…”
“I can help.” Saber replaces his hands with her own, anchoring him as best she can.
As much as she does care for Kariya in the short time she’s known him, she has to keep herself from recoiling at the sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh beneath his clothes.
---
The mana transfers decrease as the Grail War rages on. Not just because Kariya grows weaker by the day, but because despite all obstacles, they’re somehow both still alive.
She supposes they could be classified as “winning”, but it doesn’t feel that way. She defeated Caster as he was about to summon some unholy monster in the middle of the pier, and Lancer and his Master were both defeated by Berserker and its Master through brute strength and magic circuit malfunction. Rider was killed by Archer at the red bridge (Saber saw the flashes of golden light and neon lightning even on the other side of town).
That leaves Archer, Berserker, and I.
Saber rubs at her arm worriedly as she looks over Kariya’s sleeping form, curled up tightly in a grimy cardboard box. He’s told her over and over not to worry, but she has seen madness slither through a person’s brain more than once. She hears him at night when he thinks she’s asleep, talking gently to Sakura or cursing the girl’s father, Tokiomi (Archer’s Master, no doubt about it). The worms are growing stronger, and he can barely use the simplest of magecraft nowadays.
Saber can feel her physical form breaking down as well. At first, she could ignore it—a mild tingling numbness in her feet, which then moved to her shoulders—but now the end is near. Avalon awaits.
We may not get even a glimpse of the Grail.
Saber sighs and jumps lightly off the trashcan she had been kneeling on. There’s no time to have doubts. The only thing she can do is help her Master survive this war, and go back to Sakura and her springtime smile.
Kariya jolts awake, good eye wide and hands scrabbling for purchase in his “bed”. Saber clutches his hand, trying as hard as she can to anchor him in this world.
“Tokiomi,” Kariya growls, sounding more beast than man. “What you did to Sakura, I’ll—”
“Kariya,” Saber hates the pleading note in her voice. “Kariya, Tokiomi didn’t do this to you and Sakura. It was—”
“Yes, he did,” Kariya insists, and Saber’s heart pounds in her chest. “He did, he did, and for that I’ll kill him!”
Saber lets go of Kariya’s clawing hand and instead grabs him by the shoulders. Her mind races as she shakes him roughly, though she knows it won’t help. “Kariya Matou, listen to me. We’re doing this for Sakura, remember? If she saw her father’s blood on your hands, she would hate you forever. Her Uncle Kariya is a better man than that.”
Kariya lets out a wheezing laugh, and blood trickles out of his lip. “I’m more corpse than man, Saber. Sakura…must never see me like this.”
A lump clogs Saber’s throat. “…Then we should quit now, if all your strength is gone. Have the bugs devoured your love for her as well? Are you so ashamed of your appearance?”
Kariya’s mouth opens and closes. His expression seems torn between self-pity and anger—at himself or her words, Saber can’t tell.
Saber plows on. “Sakura knows better than I what you have sacrificed for her. She knows the worm pit, and yet the day we left you held each other like any loved ones would. Do you honestly think that would change after so short a time?”
Kariya tries to struggle out of her grip, but she only digs her fingers deeper into his shoulders. He’s beginning to shake again, and Saber can feel the worms crawling even from beneath his jacket and skin.
“Saber…I…I don’t know what to do!”
It’s a familiar petition, one Saber never knew how to answer in life. In the end, she still doesn’t know, but on the battlefield there’s but one thing to say.
“You have a choice, Kariya: die endlessly fighting and searching for the Holy Grail with the blood of Sakura’s father on your hands? Or live, and help Sakura survive?”
Kariya’s face fills with confusion. “But you…you seek the Grail, don’t you? You came here to fight—”
Saber’s mind flashes to her last battlefield, and for a moment, she falters. But she replaces the image with Sakura’s arms wrapped around Kariya’s middle like the world’s going to end, and holds to her decision.
“This will not be the last Grail War.” The words feel heavy on her tongue. “It can go on without us. And I believe we both know you have a short while left to live, anyway. This day…it is best to hold a child’s wish above a King’s.”
Her words seem to stir what is left of Kariya’s will. His eye focuses, his gaze grows as intent as hers doubtless is.
“If that’s your choice, then…I have some commands for you.” He holds up his left hand, the Command Seals already glowing like a beacon against his skin.
Saber allows herself to smile. “Good.”
The First Command is: Once the other two Commands are fulfilled, Saber is set free of her contract with Kariya Matou and can return to Avalon.
---
The Second Command is: Rescue Sakura from the Matous. Use everything in your power to do so.
It’s two in the morning when Saber creeps through Sakura’s bedroom window, having bypassed the barriers around the mansion with the ease Kariya’s Command Seal ensured. Perhaps Zouken Matou should have kept his barriers and familiars a secret from the son who hated him so much. But then, he seems to see Kariya as naught but a familiar himself…
Saber wonders how long it will take for the Matous to realize their new heir is missing and they are now sitting ducks in the battlefield. Probably not very long at all. I must be quick.
Sakura quickly snaps awake when Saber’s feet touch the floor. She’s about to scream until she realizes who her intruder is, and unbridled joy lights up her face.
“Sakura Tohsaka,” Saber says softly, her hand outstretched and glowing silver in the moonlight. “I’m here to rescue you on your Uncle Kariya’s behalf.”
Sakura’s out of bed in an instant, her little fingers wrapped around Saber’s gauntleted hand. “I knew you’d come, big sister. I knew.”
“Do you have anything you wish to bring with you?”
Sakura shakes her head with slow finality.
---
The Third Command is: Bring Sakura to the Fuyuki Church. It’s neutral ground, we’ll be safe there.
Sakura clutches Saber’s middle for dear life as they hop from roof to roof. “Are we going to Uncle Kariya?”
“Yes.” Saber sidesteps a chimney and ignores Sakura’s vice-like grip. “We shall be safe soon.”
For a long time, there’s no more conversation. The buildings rush by in a blur. Up above, the moon is slowly sinking downward, its cold light replaced by the warmth of the dawn. Saber hopes that Kariya is sleeping in the Church on a warm bed after a delicious dinner.
When they reach the Fuyuki Church, Saber finds a familiar golden form blocking the door. Well, not quite blocking—more leaning casually against the huge oak doors as though he owns the place. She suspects Archer left his Master’s side only recently—his spiky hair is rather rumpled, as though he had just woken up.
“Out rescuing damsels at this hour? Even a King needs her beauty sleep.” Archer eyes her boldly. “Not that a woman like yourself would need much. You’re truly a sight to behold, Saber.” He says her rank like it’s a delicate sweet to be savored, but devoured all the same.
“…Is he a bad guy?” Sakura suddenly whispers in Saber’s ear.
“Probably not. He works for your Father.” Saber reaches for Excalibur’s hilt all the same. “What do you want, Archer?”
Archer’s red eyes see Sakura, and Saber is surprised by the tenderness that passes briefly across his face, only for his usual mocking expression to reassert itself. “Tokiomi heard about the…intrusion at Zouken Matou’s mansion, at which point his pupil Kirei called with news from your Master. In essence, I am here to ensure his child’s safety.”
Sakura slides off Saber’s back and brushes off her nightgown. “…You work for Daddy?”
“Let’s just say we are allies, mong—little one.” Archer kneels down to Sakura’s height, though he doesn’t move from the door. “Your Father is quite shameless in his concern for you. He would like to see you soon—you appear to have much to talk about.”
Sakura nods. “That’d be good. Can he come here? Uncle Kariya is staying here, and I’d like to too. I…I haven’t been to a place this pretty and quiet for so long…”
“Your champion would try to strike me down if I said no.” Archer’s tone suggests such a thing to be inconveniencing than threatening, and Saber bristles. “Very well, I will inform your Father.”
Before Archer leaves, however, he directs another question toward Saber: “I can tell you are near your limit regarding your form here. The next time we meet, you and I shall have a little duel. I must test if you are to be a worthy bride.”
What brought this on? Saber wonders. “On the next battlefield, then.”
“I expect it will be mildly entertaining.” With those parting words, Archer vanishes in a burst of golden light.
Sakura turns to look at Saber, worry growing in her eyes. “Big sister, are you going away again?”
Saber knows better than to lie. “Yes, unfortunately. But I will treasure our time together, and hope you will as well.”
Sakura’s smile is wobbly and already stained with tears, and Saber gently wipes them away.
“I’ll miss you, big sister!”
Saber smiles warmly back. She can feel her form breaking down already. Her body is growing numb, her vision faint. “Don’t. We may meet again sooner than you think. Now go. Your Uncle awaits.”
Sakura turns and runs to the church doors, then opens them just enough to sneak through. Saber hears Kariya’s voice faintly—Now I know what his laugh sounds like, so gentle—just before the world fades around her.
Sakura’s ribbon flutters in Avalon’s muggy breeze like a banner. Saber hopes she doesn’t mind if the King of Knights borrows it for a little while longer.