Rating : K
Fandom : Fate/Zero
Preview : I watched in utmost horror as our master killed my sister in one swift, simple strike.
May contain spoilers for those who haven’t read the third volume of Fate/Zero.
I watched in utmost horror as our master killed my sister in one swift, simple strike. The last thing I saw of my sister was her tears, which she scarcely shed; she was smaller yet far tougher than I had ever been. The last thing I heard of my sister was her voiceless shout which vanished into thin air just as fast as her petit body did.
She was my precious sister, the only one I could claim as my family.
The moment I heard our master speak to that woman in silver amour with such grimness in his tone, I was struck with an ominous premonition. And the next thing I knew was the sensation of free falling and hitting the ground hard. Were my body not made of pure steel, enhanced by ancient runes, I knew I would experience pain. Still, even if I did, that pain would be nothing in compared to the tragedy being laid out in front of my vision. I watched in horror and absolute helplessness as my sister being broken in half with the sturdy arms of our master, the very arms that firmly held us when we engaged in battles. Had I had an audible voice, I would have screamed at him, at our master, to beg him to spare my sister’s life. Had I had tears, I would have shed them on the vacant spot my sister had left behind. Neither did I possess so I could not have pleaded for her life nor mourned her death; therefore all that was left for me was an unspoken grief that I would silently embrace while bracing myself for the upcoming battle.
She was my dearest sister, the only one who was able to hear my soul. Because she and I were the same.
Before we were sisters, we were weapons; tools to be used and disposed at will. What hold an even larger portion of our beings than our love was the duty to serve our master.
Born a weapon, we did not have the privilege to choose out master; whoever could wield us, we were obliged to serve. Still, we considered ourselves fortunate to have earned Fate’s favor, that we were placed into the possession of a worthy master. Our master, a young man whose beauty charmed the hearts of many women and hands took away the lives of many men, was a knight of great caliber. In his hands, we could fully utilize our abilities. Together, we had been through countless battles; our bodies, though reeked of innards, our curves, though drenched with blood, glistened with pride, the pride we shared in our master’s superior skills. While I did not have eyes, I could tell that my sister was beaming, just as I was.
Even death could not do us apart.
What felt like an eternity seemed to be a fleeting moment when we were united in our master’s hands. The honor that had been stripped away from us, this was our second chance to regain.
We were too indulged in out happiness of reunion that we let our guard down to the misfortune that was looming over our fate.
Upon her death, I knew I would grieve, I knew I would ache for as long as I could. And I knew I would not blame him nor I would resent his decision. As long as he held a firm belief in what he had done, we would give him our consent. Painful and heart-broken as it might be, we prepared to accept it.
Because the love we had for him was far greater than the love we shared between ourselves.
The last words she spoke to me as my dear sister was rapidly losing her physical body were words of honest plea. “Please protect him, protect our master!”, with her last ounce of strength she pleaded to me. Despair and hope intertwined, burning brighter than blood.
“Definitely, my sister.” I answered, praying that our souls were still in connect even when our existence was not. If we could no longer fight alongside each other, then I would bear her wish, for it was the same as mine.
With that in mind, I followed our master to the battlefield.
Note: Well, you probably figure out in whose POV this fanfiction is written. Yes, that’s right, it’s Gaé Dearg’s, Diarmuid’s red lance, point of view. I was strongly inspired by a fanart which depicts the twin lances in human form; Gaé Dearg being a tall, confident-looking redhead and Gaé Buidhe a short, timid blondie (this is probably because of their lengths). Immediately I imagined them as sisters who love each other, and of course, their master, Diarmuid very much.