In what Diana would call an overly cliched dark room, in a hotel no less as she can't simply buy a house in the middle of this frozen hellhole called Russia, Candles were strewn about a magical circle. She had all of the necessary components, and was a sword as a catalyst. She believed that a sord had enormous symolic meaning and woud draw in a Saber, the best class. Would this work though? She had to have a little faith. After all, she was doing this because she trusted the word of her mother who gave her the family crest and kept the old dusty tome she found in the basement that contained the detailed instructions on how to summon a heroic spirit.
However, her largest worry was not in the sword calling a saber, but that she had no idea if she was one of the seven or not. How does one just simply know these things? Somehow, deep down, she just knew but there was still room for doubt. Regardless, she proceeds with the ritual...
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill. Shut, fill.
Repeat every five times.
Simply, shatter once filled."
She slits her ring finger and lets the blood drip onto the center of the circle and onto the blade.
" ――――I announce.
Your self is under me, my doom is in your sword.
In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead."
She keeps going, not realizing that she had placed a candle precariously...and one of the components was oil.
"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the bal―"
The candle falls over, lighting the oil ablaze. "ANCE!" she finishes as she looks around, panicking and trying to find something to smother it when the circle shimmers. The sword had caught fire and a servant had answered her call... |