[@Reflection][@Cu Chulainn] [@Paradox Witch]

[center][h1]The Sensei[/H1][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Flfan1p.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1]Pellion's Pub[/h1][/center]

Back with a glass of horsewine. The man who wore the mask drank of the special drink that was not for the tongues of men. “Repeat customers are nice. But it is a shame to think that this bar will only last for so long.” he let out with a whinny before pouring the rest of the bottle into his now-empty glass. “But there are things I would wish to talk about beyond simply alcohol and wounds.” Tlilpojuan turned towards Chiron. “You are the greatest teacher of the west, famed for his knowledge as much as the heroes he raised.”  With the vigor of someone that was intoxicated, whose passions were only inflamed by alcohol, he rose to his feet. Of course there were other properties that made Chiron a hero that was more aligned with his interests, but even without that he was the one most ideal for him to talk with.

“I too am a teacher of a sort, although in truth it is more that I direct a man who is a youth. Our paths are parallel, yet ultimately divergent. There is some common ground and yet in that common ground we hold differences that make us not a true master and apprentice. We are no family of magi or a dojo in truth. There is no chain, there is no succession or inheritence.”

He shook his head and clenched a fist. “To begin with there is much I still must see of the world before I truly become one who adds to the future. I fight in the Grail War not for the wish of the grail, but rather to see and experience.”

He smiled underneath his mask before taking a bow of respect. A bit clumsy, a bit overeager. He was always the sort to unapologetically wear his heart on his sleeve. “I do not ask that you be my teacher, but as long as you are the patron of this bar…”

Whipping back to the side of the bar, Tlilpojuan dropped his satchels upon the bar. The various snacks and delicacies gathered from Japan, or rather Fuyuki. A small microcosm of the bounty and pleasures that it held on offer overflowing, grains and meats, sweets and various snacks slightly spilling out. “So long as we are able to eat I ask that you share with me stories of the world.” Tlilpojuan looked straight at Chiron. “Finally I wish to see the strike of your hooves. One strike would be what I wish.”

The Horse of Fuyuki thus bared his reason for his participation in his conflict, and the feelings that drove his wandering and study. It was not a matter of trying to learn about an enemy, it was not a matter about trying to conquer a foe. The man with the horsemask simply wished to witness and see the different things that people considered wonders and beauties



[center][h1] Lancer - Percival Lily - Nementon.  - The Land of Fantasy[/h1][/center][@Cu Chulainn] [@Dosthou]	

“That’s it.” he said as he rose up. A barely perceptible hobbling with the step of the arm that was grabbed and thrown. Magica energy ran through him, healing the damage, but the grip of that Rider was a fearsome one indeed.

“That’s my spear.” he said with the uttermost frankness as the armor dispersed into wispy blue particles. Or rather, the armor transformed backed into the unassuming, repulsive and silly outfit that was the mark of a fool. A slight frown came to Percival as he turned away from Dietrich despite the roused temper of the great hero, staring instead towards the direction of Miyama. The land was changing, the false readvent of an age long past. An age that mankind had walked away from. An age that declined and was severed by the actions of a great few. An age that mankind grew out of as a whole. The world itself changed and as the planet itself reached towards its end, the maturity of those who reigned in primacy was to come.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have anything like that.” He murmered loud enough for Dietrich, yet quiet enough to clearly show that his attention wandered away. As he walked away the sack that contained the horrors of the Fuyuki fire fell to the ground. A microcosm of a world, of a calamity. A place that contained and kept only death. An underworld.

It was in that world where the young boy first found himself without a smile.

That was undeniably a great horror.

Those that he could have saved were consequently those that he could definitely not save. No, more than that they were those who he brought death to. Their chance of defying sch a calamity that reaped all unfortunate to be within its grasp lowered to a non-possibility, even the hope of a miracle dashed through his mere presence.

For them it would have been better if he never came to begin with. It would have been better if he was not as he was. If he was something else, if he was grown. If it was that him, then they would have been saved. At the very least they would have died from the merits of their own power to defy danger and pave their paths and fate.

The flames that bound its victims to it and burned their souls. His failed attempts at saving people. They were one and the same. The remnants that were writhing within were a testament to his failure, his foolishness.

How would he act this time then?

“That tree.” he spoke out as the grove began to crumble, sublimed into the wildlands and the texture that was growing like a moss upon Fuyuki. The fairy grove was no longer quite their territory. It was a pocket within the wilds, yet it no longer held a distinction between the outside and its inside.  The walls slightly crumbled, its boundary blurred. The sight of the great tree of what was relegated to the past and fantasy came into the view of the three within.

“It has to fall.”