#fate zero caster

"Something they love, that makes existence worth pursuing." Gilles de Rais brushed his wrinkled fingers over the dog-eared pages of The Lesser Key of Solomon. "But the love of beasts is nothing like humans. It's incompatible with our love. Their love shows in a way that kills humans. And they love each of us so much they'd kill us to protect us. It'll happen! We will all be forgiven by God! We're all his children. I'm glad you feel the same way, my shining Master."

"Demons likely won't be forgiven. That's why they're separated from heaven now. Even if they do love us. We cannot trust them despite what they feel. Though they are capable of feeling, they can only use it to destroy as demon pillars."

"That's...sad," Ofelia admitted in a weak voice, feeling a twinge of pity for the Demon Pillars. No, she needed to quash any sympathy she had for them. They were humanity's enemies, and even if they loved humans, their kind of love was twisted.

"I understand," she murmured, steeling herself, "but what are they trying to protect us from?"

"Humanity, and all of its sins." The cavern of his chest sank.

He felt remorse for himself and all men at this thought. As a twisted version of a terrible man, he still did love humanity. He loved screams of terror and how they fed Prelati's Spellbook. He loved the shrieks of a woman in agony. Crying children brought him joy.

It brought him indescribable pain. He hated this form with a passion. This is not the man he was before delving into the occult. All he stood for contradicted his work as a comrade of Jeanne D'Arc. Oh, how it burned his insides. How shame devoured him every waking moment. He thought he might be like those demons with their twisted love.

But... his peculiar little Master believed he could be saved, chose to take a risk on him knowing what he'd done. She thought he could do right once more. Was it true? Could he really use this all-consuming evil to do good? He wanted to think... That this little light could touch all men, just as it touched him.

Perhaps not the Holy Maiden, but a shining woman. Yes. His odd little Master, who fought for ideals far beyond his current self's comprehension. He swore that he'd come to understand. He would protect her no matter what. For little lights like this needed to shine and burn away the layers of muck tainting the world.

Gilles de Rais hummed and elaborated on his thoughts. "Their mission to eliminate all humans to prevent us from hurting ourselves. So much pity and hatred and love, the only thing they can do is drown us in it."

Grimacing, Ofelia grew silent as she watched the change in the Caster's expression. Did she upset him with her question? She opened her mouth to apologize, but hesitated.

"They're like the Lion King from the Camelot Singularity, trying to protect humanity by destroying us," She mumbled, "even if they have have good intentions in their own strange way, we can't let that happen." Her hands became clammy (was she nervous? Actually, she wasn't entirely sure), and  were now placed on her lap.

"Even if there is a lot of horrible things in the world, there's a lot of good too." A bittersweet smile formed on her lips. Right, she had a conversation like this with Elia before in the training room. How much time has passed since then? "They might love humans, but I guess they don't really understand us and the fact we want to live on despite the awfulness that might come with it."

Gilles reached out cautiously and placed his sickly gray hand atop hers. He had the shakes, like an elderly man or an alcoholic in withdrawals. "Don't be afraid. Humanity is destined to overcome all obstacles. Men of made are demons, and demons of men. Without evil to balance out goodness, the righteous would become a curse… Close your eyes, please, Master."

"A curse? How–huh? Oh, okay!" Though somewhat puzzled by Gilles's request, Ofelia instantly closed her eyes and waited. Was he going to show her some kind of neat trick?

"Please don't look away, Master." With his eyes closed as well, Gilles de Rais spoke quiet words in Latin (which did sound SUPER COOL). And in his visualization came an image of his younger self, which he transplanted to her mind through a repeated incantation.

He showed her his idolization of Jeanne D'Arc in a room of stained glass windows in all colors. He showed her the Holy Maiden's guidance, watching over him, even in this form where he knows he doesn't deserve it. He showed her himself and the Saint on the battlefield together, sharing in pride for their cause. And lastly, he showed her an image of a broken man, offered kindness in his time of need by a woman with the world on her shoulders. One that never asked for anything, but had the impossible asked of her. Yet still she watched over him, and still she held his hand. His friend. His idol. That even in this form he cherished so dearly, though he loathed the obsession it'd become.

A nobleman conspired against into isolation. A soldier driven to madness in loss. Transformed into a horror himself with the possession of Prelati's Spellbook. A book he damned himself with in life when studying the occult.

His crimes were countless. His sins were plentiful. But this was his love, and the warmth he hoped to someday extend to others the way the Holy Maiden extended it to him.

In a way, the man he was alongside Jeanne was a standard he could never reach. He'd never accomplish the goals they held together in life. Their ideals were impossible. Perhaps naive. But somewhere, on the Throne of Heroes, his true self waited. And he, too, would be saved, he thought.

But this Gilles de Rais... This Caster... He would pay penance for his crimes for eternity, locked inside his own mind, trapped by a cursed craft he never should have dabbled in.

"In this, my time of need, I beg thee to come to my aid. I humbly ask thee to help me bear my trials with honor, As I remember you in your earthly agonies. You who left family and friends to enter into God’s service, Devout and valiant to uphold righteousness to the end, While being insulted and harmed by your enemies. Help me to prevail in life and death over evil, While bearing my injuries with the dignity you showed When wounded in the breast, head, thigh, and heel. Abandoned by the king you yourself had crowned, Captured and sold to the highest bidder, You put your trust in the King of Heaven to deliver you. Beaten, bruised, questioned and accused, You were denied that which you loved most: Communion, confession, mass and public prayer. Imprisoned, neglected, threatened and condemned, Sentenced to die as a heretic the most cruelest death, To die by the fire and be raised up in heaven! Hear this petition and my heartfelt plea. Pray for me in this, my time of need, For I believe God will deny you nothing. Amen."

Gilles de Rais opened his eyes, but kept his hand atop Ofelia's, allowing her to continue seeing those memories through his eyes a bit longer.

Soundless, Ofelia observed the various memories that flashed in her mind, of a righteous man devoted to a Saint, even after his fall. It was difficult to believe that this was the same man that committed so many sins.

Black and white. Good and evil. Everything seemed so simple back then when she arranged people into those two boxes. Now, everything seemed to blur and melt into shades of gray. Gilles may have been a cruel murderer, but his love for Jeanne and God was genuine. The Demon Pillars loved humanity and wanted to protect them, albeit by destroying them. She wasn't sure whether or not to accept this idea, but–

The memories faded away, yet she basked in them for a while longer.