Before the Dawn of the Third DayMontmarte - An austere hotel room
It was a nice little room. Two comfortable single beds, a nightstand with a lamp and a dresser with a radio that was perhaps a bit too keen on a particular song, as this was the third time during that it had played the same french song
during the whole day. Although it wasn't unpleasant, it was starting to become grating and distracting, and Yazhu didn't want to have it stuck in her head, so she rose from her meditative posture and turned it off. Perhaps she'd have more peace of mind for artistic appreciation of this land's crafts once the Holy Grail War was finished.
If she was to be honest with herself, the entirety of the situation annoyed her. Whilst preparing for the second day of the War, the results of her encounter on the first night begged to differ to this course of action. Even if she didn't have any external wounds because of the resiliance of her Mystic Code, her body was still recovering from the power of the strike, and it was limiting her mobility. It was a minor disadvantage, but Yazhu and Tristan were already in an impaired position because of her own ineptitude as a magus and, whilst it took her a long ten minutes to arrive to the decision, she eventually declared that she'd remain in her room until she had fully recovered. After all, if she was to fight another Master, she needed to be as close to her full strength as she could. Noon had a trump card that almost costed her life, and it would be foolish to assume that the other Masters wouldn't have their own tricks as well. Not only that, but he and his Servant had already made an alliance with another one, if the combined efforts of the two Sabers to take down her Archer were anything else other than mere happenstance. The only one that didn't have anything up her sleeve was herself, and there just wasn't enough time to fix that. She had
to win this war with what little she had, if only to save her family from certain doom.
Before she could descend further down the spiral of self-loathing, the melancholic voice of her Servant reached her mind. An apology, first and foremost, then a request for her to use a Command Spell once again, this time to bolster his powers and to win this fight. Without a moment's hesitation, she agreed to the request. After all, if there was a moment to use them was now. Even if this was her frustration or emotions speaking for her, she couldn't afford to lose her only partner in this situation. Someone who, despite these horrendous two nights and her failures, still trusted her. Even if that was what he was meant to do, due to his nature and his honor. And, so, she couldn't afford to let him down."Very well. Tristan: Break through your limits and seize victory for us"
ordered Yazhu, expending the second of the three spells in order to aid the sorrowful knight on his fight. If all things went correctly, then they could possibly end the night in a positive note. A faint sliver of hope, one that she hoped they would be able to grasp. A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she changed the frequency of the radio to another station before turning it on once again. The static slowly gave way to the melody of a song, and Yazhu resigned herself to the sounds of Mylène Farmer's Désenchantée. Perhaps this station wouldn't be that keen on repeating the same song over and over again.