Just A Bit Of Mayhem: Prologue [Fate/Stay Night Illya SI]

Prologue

She should be asleep right now.

She should have gone to bed hours ago, yet here she was humming merely as she scribbled arcane symbols upon the cold marble floor.

It was a fine floor as well, one she could see her reflection against. A shame that she didn't have any other floors. She would have marked another with her chalk if she had the luxury, but here she was stuck with her bedroom.

Her grandfather was awfully stingy when it came to giving her rooms even when they had an entire castle. What use was the castle if they weren't going to use it?

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the floor. "Now let's see, anything I missed?" She asked as she let out a small yawn. She was getting awfully sleepy.

Now why was she staying up so late? Not only was it way past her bedtime, but it was terrible for her health. How was she supposed to grow tall and busty if she stayed up so late? It would stunt her growth!

Then again, it's not like she could grow any taller as she was right now; She was an Einzbern after all.

Gazing down on the massive arcane circle drawn over the polished finish of the floor, she found herself staring right back to the youthful face she now possessed. Red eyes, pale skin, and hair as white as snow, with her doll look features, she was perfect in every way and adorable to boot!

"Stop it," She scolded herself, slapping her cheeks to remind herself of the task at hand, "You can play dress up later. Right now, you have work to do." And what important work it was.

Finding a hole on her runes, she got up, before skipping toward error. Any error could prove explosive… or fatal. The two aren't usually exclusive from one another. Now if only she was just a tad bit taller than getting everything could have been done a bit soon.

Why did she have to be so small? Couldn't her grandfather add some mass to her when she modified her for the upcoming war? It would certainly help it didn't feel like she was some overstuffed doll ready to explo-

Clenching her fist, she stopped as she took deep breaths. Reigning in the energy carved into her delicate form, she gritted, "Calm down Illya. Control."

She had spent ten years reigning everything in. She couldn't afford to slip up now, not when freedom was so close. She could worry about her looks after everything's done.

It's not like it was all bad being reborn as a girl destined to die. She was cute after all and being cute had its privileges like being allowed to bend some rules.

"You may be an adorable mistress, but that doesn't mean that feature alone allows you to bend the rule as you see fit," Her maid, Sella, scolded with a small smile on her lips as she stood dutifully by the wayside. Had she been talking aloud? No matter.

Smiling smugly, she replied, "Yes it does." As she held up her head, she asked, "You would have stopped me otherwise." As much as they were her maids, they were Einzbern maids. They had loyalties to the family. She was simply so adorable that they were bending their programming for her!

"No we aren't," Leysritt deadpanned, "And Mistress should learn how to filter their thoughts especially when they're being stupid again."

Pouting, she fired back, "Can you indulge me at least once?"

"Oh we did, Mistress, many times in fact," Leysritt as she tapped her finger against her chin, "But you always get in trouble so we have to be hard on you." Smiling, she added, "If you kept indulging yourself, you wouldn't stop getting yourself into trouble with your grandfather."

"I know, I know," She replied, "But it's not like I wouldn't get in trouble otherwise."

A decade of living with the cold monster that was Jubstacheit von Einzbern and yet she received neither praise nor felt any warmth from the man. If she ever gets something from the man, it'd be critiques to her form or harsh rebuke of how she could do better.

Why bother trying to please the man that never felt joy?

Etching the last of the symbols, the central rune to call upon the throne, she nodded, "It's finished." She was now ready to summon a servant.

"Are you sure about this mistress," Sella asked as she glanced towards the heavy oaken door, "Wouldn't it be better to use the catalyst prepared for you by your grandfather?"

"I could," She replied with a frown, "But I won't."

It's not that Heracles was a bad servant, he was fantastic. He was one of the best heroes she could ask for, but he does come with drawbacks.

Feeling the circuits carved into her body, she grimaced. He was powerful, yes, but his upkeep was horrendous. If she was to summon him, she was going to be in a world of pain trying to keep up with him and the war was months away.

The problems didn't stop there. He was also inflexible and dangerous. Robbed of his sanity the Greek hero of legend would be a constant test of will. She might be Illya right now, but she didn't have the girl's iron will. She wasn't sure she'd stay sane from the ordeal.

"You're grandfather would not like this," Her maids warned once more, making her hackles rise.

"Are you his servants," She snapped as she glared at the two, "Or are you mine?"

As they froze up, she ranted, "So what if I wanted to summon another hero?"

Screw the old man, Let him be angry for all she cares. He's not the one risking their neck for this war, she was. "If he wanted to summon Heracles, then he should have been the one preparing for this war, not me."

This was her war and her fight. If she was going to die, then it was going to be by her own hands. Taking deep, calming breaths, she settled down before she asked, "So any objections?"

"No mistress," The twin bowed, kneeling down before her, "We merely wanted to protect you from your grandfather's wrath."

Smiling, she walked over to the two before gently placing their hands atop their heads. "Eh I could take him," She assured the two even as her hands shook, "You worry about yourself and let your mistress handle everything ok?" This was on her head, not theirs. What kind of mistress would she be if she let them be punished for her actions?

As Sella leaned against her touch, Leysritt pouted, "I still think this is not a good idea."

"Who said it was?" She grinned as the two looked up at her in abject horror. Laughing at the sight, she pulled away before commanding, "Now lock the door because we're about to begin." The witching hour was upon them. It was now or never.

As she stared at the summoning circle, she hesitated.

Oh this was a bad idea, a terrible one even. If she did this, then who knows what consequences could arise. A whole new set of heroes, a war unknown to her. There were so many ways this could go wrong, but screw that. Why the hell would she abandon taking initiative?

"Just like you practiced," She whispered as the keys upon her circuits turned.

She could feel the thrum of Od just beneath her skin as her circuits glow red hot. It hurts, it HURTS so bad, like her very veins were set afire, yet she tempered it, reigning it to a steady hum as she pooled it within her chest.

Breathing in the cold stale air of her room and feeling the rush of energy fill her lungs, she whispered, "I wish upon the stars, that my voice be heard." And answered they did as the circle lit up before bursting into life.

Devoid of any markings nor catalyst, she called upon the throne itself. A cry for help for all that was willing to listen to her voice. "That the cries of innocence shall be for all to answer," She shouted as the wind started to pick up around here.

Shadows stretched as light poured out, shaking the very foundations of the room as the winds howled back at her. "From beyond the gates of heaven I call upon thee, oh guardians of scale," She cried, shielding her eyes as she dared to look at the light.

"Kings or Beggars, Champions or Liar, Heroes or Monsters, I call upon thee," She shouted above the din, praying, and hoping for deliverance.

"All that I ask," She begged as she clenched her eyes shut, "Please save me."

"And a savior you shall have," A feminine voice answered as the wind blew out. As Illya opened her eyes, she found this heroine, no, her heroine standing before her. With the bow in hand and fair, golden hair radiant upon the moon-like glow that bathed the room, Illya felt her breath taken away. This was her hero.

"Now I ask, are you my master?" The woman asked as she knelt before her, extending a gloved hand as she gave her a warm and motherly smile.

She had expected monsters. She had expected liars and thieves. She called hoping for the best, but what she didn't expect was the pair of feline ears flicking above her hero's head. "Cute..."

A/N:

New story commission. If you think about it, it kinda sucks getting stuffed inside Illya's body in Fate Stay Night. Like fuck, you're basically a candle burning on both ends both physically and mentally. It was a miracle she stayed sane for that long... then again, sanity is relative.

Also, alternating this with this months winner. Not sure which I'd go first, but Profiteering is 5k words while Empress is 3k and I hope it stays 3k unlike the monster of a first chapter