Micheal stayed at the railing until the pier and the coast of France faded into the fog. He sighed, put his hands into his jeans, and walked over to where his suitcase was. Grabbing the handle he walked over to a bench and sat down. He pulled a book out of his backpack and cracked it open to where he had left off. It was a book on the magical history of Britain and the Clock Tower. He had read this book front to back several times but just needed something to do for the two hours or so it would take to get across the channel.
A while later he heard seagulls overheard again and closed the book placing a bookmark where he stopped. He stood up, stretching slightly, and began to walk towards where he'd be disembarking. He frowned as he felt himself pass through a bounded field. He idly wondered if he should try and trace it but thought better of it.
"Last thing I wanna do is piss off some coastal mage before I even step foot in England." He muttered under his breath as the ferry began to slow down as it approached the dock. Several minutes later Micheal had gotten off the ferry and felt his face sour at the smell. He shook his head and stepped foot onto the dock taking a few steps to the side to make sure he got his bearings. Looking around he saw booths further inland guessing that they were the entry stations. He shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder and began to walk towards them
As he got closer he felt another bounded field go over him. He shook himself slightly feeling like he had an itch in between his shoulder blades and looked around suddenly noticing a differently colored station. Emblazoned on the front of it was the symbol for the Clock Tower. He walked over and introduced himself to the lady working the station. She squinted at him and then sighed, holding out her hand for his travel documents.
Several more minutes, a few stamps, and a bus pass later Micheal was riding into London. He tried his best to not be a tourist but he found himself staring at the city that passed by him anyway. While the Lafaire mansion wasn't in the middle of nowhere the town it was at the outskirts of was not the biggest. It had just gotten a mall about a year ago and THAT was a whole thing.
He shook his head and mentally went over the plan again. He might have been snarky with his mom about it but now that he was actually in London and going to the Clock Tower he thought it would be prudent to go over it again.
As he was finishing up his third mental run through of the plan the driver came over the intercom and announced that they had arrived where Micheal needed to get off. Grabbing the carry handle of his suitcase and shouldering his backpack he got off the bus and walked a few paces before taking immediate notice of the illusory wall offset from the standard entrance to the building.
Well that and the two clearly magically armed guards posing as tourists nearby. Walking towards them one of the guards took notice and Micheal felt as though he had just walked through a wall of static and as quickly as it had occurred it passed. The guards gave him a once over and then waved him through.
Micheal stepped through the wall and was immediately surrounded by at least a hundred people who looked like they all belonged in the late 18th century. Overwhelmed for a brief second he walked forward and bumped into someone without realizing. As he was about to apologize the person he had walked into turned around with a look that made Micheals apology wither in his throat.
"...I see they let anyone in nowadays. Entertain me peasant. What dunghole did you crawl out of?"
He had made it five steps into the Clock Tower and he already wanted to slug someone.
"My Apologies. I will be better about noticing in the future."
"Are you implying I'm somehow not noticeable? Me? How dare you."
This was said with such venom that Micheal took a slow breath to calm himself down before answering.
"I need to be somewhere. Goodbye."
"Clearly he needs to go back to whatever hole he crawled out of. I shudder to imagine the hag that spawned him." Came a second voice.
Micheal froze and turned around to face the owner of the second voice slowly feeling his mana respond to his anger.
"What did you say you 18th century reprobate?"
"Oh he has a tongue on him." Crowed someone from nearby who had been watching all this happen.
"I'll have you know I am the heir to the com-"
"Yeah I don't really care. I'm sure if you could shit gold you'd brag about that too but you shit brown just like the rest of us peasents. Don'tcha?"
"You dare talk to your better that way?"
"If you're whats considered 'better' then clearly I'm unmatched." Micheal said dryly watching the other man slowly turn red and inflate like a balloon. "I mean I'm not the one that looks like an embarrassed puffer fish right now."
Suddenly the man rushed him but Micheal dodged easily causing the man to stumble a bit. He narrowed his eyes as Micheal flipped him off and yawned.
"You. Me. Fighting ring. 15 minutes."
Micheal shrugged.
"I mean sure if you wanna get your ass beat that badly." He smirked as the man grew like a puffer fish again before walking off.
"...okay now that that's done. Where the hell is the fighting ring."
About fifteen minutes later, and with the help of some nearby people to know where to go, Micheal was standing in the fighting ring looking around with his hands in his pockets. The entire arena was a giant 40 meter square room with pillars interspersed roughly every 5 meters. He didn't really have time to change out of his jeans and t-shirt either. He idly wondered how much force one of the pillars could take when movement caught his eye. Turning his head to look, his mouth fell open at what his opponent was wearing. It looked like the ugly lovechild of a 17th century pirate and a 14th century cavalry soldier.
"You look dumbfounded. Clearly you have realized the gulf between us. I'll give you the chance to back down if you get on your knees and apologize." the man sneered cradling a helmet with a giant four foot feather coming out of the top of it.
"Yeah, not doing that. If you want to do it feel free to." Micheal taunted as he squatted down and stretched his legs a bit.
"You'll regret not accepting my offer. Here are the rules: No killing blows. No attempts to maim or cripple. Stop when we're either unconscious or if we surrender. Agreeable?"
"Yeah that works." Micheal felt something press on him on his entire body as soon as he said it. He figured that would be the binding spell one of the students told him about. He smiled ruefully as he realized that his mom was going to be fucking furious with him.
"Whatever your smiling about," Came the muffled voice of the now helmeted mage, "I'll see to it that you'll never be smiling again."
Micheal zoned back in and flooded his nerves and muscles with od as the man charged him with what looked like a cavalry lance held in his right hand. Micheal sidestepped quickly using his mana to make him move to the right by 3 meters in under half a second . This had the effect of causing the man to look around in confusion as it seemed that Micheal had vanished into thin air.
"So I gotta know. What kind of bet did you lose to have to wear all of that?"
Yelling in rage the man swung the lance to the side as Micheal jumped over it easily. When he landed again he pushed off with the foot he landed on, cracking the floor in the process, and got within the mans guard quickly delivering three mana infused rapidfire blows with his fists.
Head, Ribs, and Liver. Lets see how he handles that.
Micheal jumped in place, pulling up both his legs to his chest, and drop kicked the man causing him to blow straight through a nearby pillar. Micheal whistled appreciatively at the distance the man flew only for the man to get up shakily and glare venom through his visor.
Micheal put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, smirking at the man who inflated like a puffer fish again, yelled something in a language Micheal didn't understand, and charged. This time something was different as the tip of the lance started to glow and pulse orange. Micheal squinted his eyes, noticing the waves of heat coming off the tip of it and guessed that the tip was either heated or explosive.
Both would suck to be hit by.
Flooding his body with Od again he dodged to the left this time into the mans blindspot, circled around him, and then delivered a roundhouse kick to the back of the mans helmet causing a satisfying clang and making him faceplant forward into the floor with a metallic crash.
Muttering came from overhead and Micheal looked up to see people watching from the balcony. He looked back down at the man just in time to dodge a swipe aimed at his legs. He shot backwards until he was a good 4 meters from the man who stood up and yanked off his helmet. His face was purple with rage and he suddenly stabbed the lance heated end first into the ground. Activating his eyes Micheal [saw] that the ground under him would explode. He would be relatively unharmed but his clothes would be scorched a bit.
Frowning, Micheal quickly ran through his options and found a good solution. He refocused on the fight and quickly reinforced his legs at the same time he flooded them with Od. He pushed back away from where the ground would blow up just in time for an explosion to blow the ground apart where he had been standing. The man got angrier and pushed the lance further into the ground practically frothing with rage.
In the time between Micheal jumping back and the man pushing the lance further into the ground Micheal had not been idle. He ran around the arena using the pillars to obfuscate the mans line of sight as he reached into his pocket to pull out a steel ball bearing. He quickly loaded it with an electromagnetic charge so that it would float between his hands and paused behind a pillar.
This would be difficult to both maintain his speed and fire off this spell. He'd have to swap between the two of them within the span of a second and a half. At least that was his best guess. He took a deep breath and once again used Od to speed himself up almost to his limit. He ran out from behind the pillar and circled around to get behind the man. Not even 4 seconds later Micheal had gotten behind the man who suddenly stiffen and began to swing the lance dragging it through the ground. Micheal floated the ball bearing between his palms as he crossed his index and middle finger along with his ring and pinkies forming a rudimentary barrel. He lined up the shot with the center of the mans backplate and quickly shunted the od from his legs into his arms and fingers. Remembering the "no killing blows" at the last second Micheal adjusted the Od so that it wouldn't kill the man. A split second later a crack was heard as the ball bearing shot forward into the mans backplate propelling him forward several meters so that he impacted a pillar face first.
Micheal activated his eyes and [saw]the man fall off the pillar battered and bloody but never the less alive. He deactivated his eyes and turned around with finality as the man fell to the ground unconscious which led to the pressure of the binding spell to lift off of him.
Micheal lowered the amount of od he had been flooding his body with and almost stumbled a bit as he entered the prep room he had left his luggage in. It had been a while since he had needed to use that much continuously. He would have to find some way to either increase the amount of od he produced or more likely better refine his control and the method he used to speed himself up and attack. He idly pulled another ball bearing out of his pocket and weaved it inbetween his fingers as he caught his breath.
A few minutes later he had grabbed his stuff and had left the prep room. He entered the halls of the Clock Tower again and after asking some students for where to go found himself outside Professor Arneheartes office.
He reached out to knock on the door when it swung open on its own and a flustered girl ran out almost colliding with Michael who moved out of the way in the nick of time. He watched as the girl ran down the hall and leaned into the door frame arching an eyebrow at his uncle as Arnehearte ignited a letter over his trash can.
"Still breaking hearts I see."
"Oh? Micheal! You made it! …Please tell me you didn't hear any of that."
"Nope. I was about to knock when she flung open the door and ran out."
"Ah okay. Come in, Come in! Have a seat. How are you doing?"
Micheal smiled as he walked into the office of Shear Arnehearte and hugged his uncle who held him in both arms and studied him concernedly.
"I'm fine. I swear between you and mom-"
"You can't blame us for worrying. Speaking of. What's this I hear about you bullying another student on your first day?"
"...No idea what you're talking about."
"Micheal." Arnehearte said warningly.
"Also define 'Bullying'."
Arneheart grimaced and then started laughing
"Not even a day in and already making a name for yourself. You remind me of your mother. Tell me what happened. Oh I'll put on some tea as well."
Arnehearte busied himself with making some tea as Micheal sat in a plush armchair sitting adjacent to a coffee table. After the tea was served he told Arnehearte what had happened. To his credit he was a great listener only interjecting to ask how Micheal felt when he did specific actions.
When Micheal was done his uncle shook his head ruefully and smiled at his nephew
"At least you stood up for yourself."
His face darkened for a brief moment before he clapped a hand to his forehead
"Ah right! I completely forgot to tell you or your mother."
"What's that?"
"You'll be staying with me and not the Velvets during your time here at least until we can get you a dormitory room."
Micheal set down his cup of tea and looked at his uncle with narrowed eyes.
"....What happened."
Arnehearte grunted noncommittally
"Figured it'd be better for you in all honesty."
"Is that so."
Micheal narrowed his eyes at Arnehearte who took a few sips of his bourbon and tried to look everywhere but Micheal.
"Either you tell me whats happened or I'll track down Velvet and ask him myself."
Arneheart looked at Micheal and sighed knocking back the rest of his drink and pouring himself another glass
"ClockTower bureaucracy."
"I've barely been here 4 hours and I'm already in the middle of it?"
"No it was actually a few years back. Do you remember the interview with the Clock Tower lord when you were twelve?"
Micheal thought back staring at the ceiling as he remembered back to the interaction with some relish. Smiling evilly at the memory he looked back at his uncle and his smile vanished at the look on his uncles face.
"....Oh you're kidding me. Really?"
"Yes. The Velvets are a rather new family, only being a couple generations long, but someone talked about how that clock tower lord had been disgraced by you at the age of twelve the Velvets understandably backed out."
"Okay….what else aren't you telling me."
Arnehearte swirled his drink and seemed to think for a bit.
"Tensions in the Clocktower are running high. Very high. There's…an event happening in a few years that has everyone on edge."
Micheal rolled his hand at his Uncle's sudden reluctance to keep talking
"Well? Keep going. You can't just tell me that somethings going to happen and then not tell me about it. Also what kind of 'event' would be stirring up anxiety years before it happens?"
Arenhearte suddenly looked twice his age as he slumped into his chair before looking at Micheal
"I'd rather have you sign a geass. I trust you but I feel like having you sign one would be-"
"So write the geass. Every secret in the Moonlit World is bound by one."
Arnehearte arched an eyebrow and set down his glass on a nearby table before getting up and walking over to his desk. Rummaging around to find some parchment he fished a pen out of his jacket and wrote down the terms. Walking back to the chairs he handed Micheal the geass and as Micheals read it his eyebrows kept going higher and higher
I, ________, Hereby swear to keep all information regarding the 4th Holy Grail War secret. I am not to discuss it with anyone who does not already know about it as of the signing date of this geass.
I am allowed to discuss it when under extreme threat to my person or life, under extreme duress, or when under external influence with no repurcussions.
This geass will be considered complete and rendered null upon the start of the 4th holy grail war in Fuyuki, Japan.
The rest of the geass was the usual punishments for breaking it. Micheal nodded and reached into his bag for a pen signing it. He handed it back to Arnehearte who gave it a once over, nodded, and put it into his pocket. He picked up his glass and took a large gulp
"This entire thing is going to blow up when word of it gets out. However, even that is too soon for this. Things are moving quickly. Too quickly in my opinion."
"So…whats a Holy Grail war? I've never heard of it."
Arnehearte grunted,
"Not surprising. The entire thing seems far fetched. Basically Seven people summon seven familiars and then fight until one pair is left. The prize at the end is the aforementioned Holy Grail."
"Thats…it? Also it cannot be the actual Grail. The Church would be all over the ritual like maggots on old meat"
Arnehearte threw back the rest of his glass and glanced up at the clock. Sighing he stood up and looked at Micheal
"I'll give you some books to read up on more of it. It is a fascinating ritual in all honesty. Although the reward the 'grail' gives out to the final pair seems too good to be true."
"Whats the reward?"
Micheals interest was piqued.
Arneheart walked over to the door as Micheal gathered his things to follow him out and turned around as he looked at his nephew with a glint in his eye.
"A wish for anything you could ever desire."