#a slight

She didn’t know where to soar, her master asleep in her arms, one free hand guided the chariot up in the air. She could use a bit of magic to tweak her master’s memory as to find her house--the safest place Rider could think of--but she couldn’t help but limit herself.

Though, an arrow that struck in between her army of horses changed her mind.

Rider grimaced, tried to balance her stumbling chariot, she knew that the attack wouldn’t last that quick.

“Archer.” she stated bitterly.

Of course, arrows always meant for that class. No other class would have dared to imitate arrows, and Assassins would not ever attack in open air light that.

Rider looked below her, a sea of a skyscraper of living town, there she spotted a light of red, ready to shoot another batch. She turned her chariot way, landed two feet away from the intruder, who had retracted her bow from the last spot.

Raven tresses as graceful as the crow’s feathers adorned in twin tails, a worn-out leather jacket of sepia that hugged her tiny complexion along with a casual short blue jeans. Archer had mingled with society, for her to discard her fighting suit. Or so Rider have thought.

Rider stepped down her chariot, leaving her master on the seat covered with her mighty red mantle, leaving her with her sleeveless dress shirt and armor.

“I’m busy, little Archer,” Rider folded her arms, annoyed. “If you ‘re looking for a bird to hit, then wait ‘till morning.”

“Looks like this Rider avoids herself from the challenge,” Archer taunted. “But whatever your reason is, I won’t let you pass my territory tonight.”

As Archer split her crossbow into what Rider could deduce as twin gauche, Rider drew her sword, clashing strikes to the grinning Archer. Rider bit her lower lips, tried to dive the Archer to the edge of the roof to no avail. Archer spun herself to make a contact with her lower abdomen.

Rider jumped behind, about to be cornered to her chariot, strongly pushed the twin gauche with her strength, made Archer knocked back, leaving her for a chance. Amethyst orbs darted, searched for a way out without wasting her energy, but--

“Slow!”

Archer bellowed. Gauche stripped her from her dear sword. Though Rider was one step to be impaled by the second swing of the left gauche, a sight of indigo-imbued scythe was the one stopped Archer from moving. Swallowed, Rider stepped back to her chariot.

“Go,” the third person instructed before the fog of indigo subsided. “I’ll handle this girl. You must rescue the fickle life of your master.”

A Saber-class servant with a scythe as a weapon. An Archer with the ability of tracing.

Rider needed to think twice before acting.

Saber brushed aside her hair from her forehead, tucked it back behind her ear. The fog had subsided, and Archer didn’t make any move to strike Saber that stood idly in front of her. Red eyes narrowed to examine the scythe as well as Saber with flowing hair of byzantium.

“Shit. I almost got her.” groaned, Archer looked away. “Why are you here? How do you know that I’m here?”

“Need me to remind you that our master lives under the same roof?” Saber chuckled. “Fancy that you meet up with Rider, though, but I couldn’t help but letting her go for today.”

“What? Her master reminded you of how weak your master is?”

In a blink of an eye, the scythe was now encircled around the throat of little Archer. Saber’s smile grew into a menacing one as Archer gulped.

“Speak another ill and you are gone.”