Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything to do with this. The characters and locations all belong to the respective creator(s), all I own is this storyline.

WARNING: This story contains yaoi, implications there-of, mental issues, and a LOT of hate issues, at least for poor Waver. J

As this will be a multi-chapter story, these warnings will only exist at the beginning of the story.

Fate/Zero: A New Spirit


The sun glinted on the black hair, which stopped in an even cut just above the shoulders. The uniform white shirt was cleaned and pressed, and the green sweater-vest was in pristine order. The slacks were brand new and the correct shade of midnight blue so as to almost be mistaken for black.

The students around were whispering to each other and pointing at the person in question as they sat down in their seats. Several were making comments on how one of such low magical capabilities had managed to become a participant in the Holy Grail War.

Blue-green eyes looked up from the desk towards where the disabled ex-mage, Kayneth El-Malloi, was sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for the class to sit so they could begin.

"Welcome back, Waver Velvet." Kayneth said through grated teeth.

The student of which he'd referred to kept his hands folded in his lap, and tried to keep his calm composure. How he would love to rub it in the teacher's face that he had not only managed to claim a relic for the Holy Grail War that was intended for the teacher, but had also managed to gain the Noble Spirit's friendship. And maybe more.

"So, how did your end of the Grail War go?" Kayneth continued, trying to irk the youth. When Waver didn't answer, Kayneth smirked. "You lost, didn't you?"

"So did you." Waver replied. If he had to be grateful for one thing, it was the newfound ability to keep his composure, given that he'd had to learn how to do so with his Noble Spirit. "I would wager you lost more than I did."

A few of the students snickered.

Kayneth growled, then looked at the rest of the class. "Due to an unfortunate incident with a mage-hunter, I will no longer be able to teach you. Thus, your classes are now being turned over to Ulric von Hellberg."

The new teacher was dressed in the standard mage's uniform, with his black hair slicked back with enough grease to make it look unnatural. His beard was more of an overly-grown long goatee that had glittering beads on it to try and hold the wisps from getting out. His fingers were adorned with several large and gaudy rings set with equally gaudy gemstones. Just one look at him, and Waver knew it was going to be trouble. The von Hellberg line of mages dated pretty far back, and this particular mage was the fourteenth in the succession.

"Now class, I expect obedience in this class, perfect obedience. Which means, Mr. Velvet, that if I tell you to lick the dirt off my boots, you do it."

"Nope." Waver replied. "I saw you outside just before I came in. If you want someone to lick horse-dung off your shoes, ask one of the students that used to kiss-up to Kayneth."

Several students gasped, and a few snickered. Waver's inability to get irked, or at least show it, was a new thing, and a few of the girls liked it.

"Well, then, Mr. Velvet, you can come here and do your test on the floor while acting as my footstool while the other students complete their tests at their desks."

Waver wondered for a moment if he should mouth-off to the guy, but then he remembered how well Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, had treated him despite the fact that Waver had yelled at him a lot. Picking up his books and pen, Waver stood, walked down to the stage, took the teacher's cloak and put it over his back as he crouched on the floor resplendent of a turtle.

"What are you . . ."

"It's against regulations to get the sweater dirty during class," Waver pointed out, "and I didn't bring my jacket, so you'll have to do with your coat." With that, he started to write out his test.

The teacher really had nothing to say regarding Waver's comment: it was against school rules to get the clothes, bar pants and jacket, dirty. And it was quite evident that Waver had not brought his coat, so there was no way around it. Sitting in his rather plush, velvet-lined chair, he put his boot up on Waver's back, making sure to dig his heals down and give a good hard thump, which made the boy mage grunt lightly.

As he wrote the test out, Waver's mind wandered slightly to his servant during the Grail War. The mighty Iskandar, also known as Alexander the Great, had been cheerful, of not loud, but had also shown Waver a measure of respect. And when he was needed to do something, Iskandar had been willing to do so, and had been wise enough to know what to do in situations where Waver wouldn't have.

A slight glimmer on his right hand caught Waver's eye, but when he paused to look, there was nothing there. The command seal that had once graced his hand, of which he'd been so proud, was gone, lost when he'd lost Iskandar.

There was a sharp kick to his back and ribcage, and Waver grunted.

"Stop daydreaming, brat." Ulric sneered. "And stop shifting. My legs are weary and need rest, not be jostled around by a worthless third-generation mage."

Waver sighed and continued to write out his test, noting twice more that there was an odd glimmer on his hand that, when he looked, seemed to vanish. He finished his test and remained exactly where he was, page in front of him, until the teacher noticed that he wasn't doing anything. The poor young mage received another kick to the side for this, this time hard enough to toss him off the stage and land him a good seven feet away from said stage, which in turn was about four feet up from the floor.

For a moment, nothing was said as Waver lay there. A few students that had been learning healing magic went to move when Waver shifted, sat up, and brushed the dirt off the teacher's coat. He then got up, walked over, and handed the coat back to Ulric. "Your coat, sir. I did my best to get the dirt off for you. Coincidentally, here is my test paper as well."

"Dismissed." Ulric snapped, finding it irksome that the once snippy and outspoken Waver Velvet was now acting quite mature for his young age.

As Waver walked along outside, he heard from the room above him (which just so happened to be the classroom he'd come out of) a loud shout regarding his marks, which, from all the flamboyant and colorful curses in several languages, had graced one of the highest in the class. With a slight grin, Waver retreated to his room, lest Ulric von Hellberg find him listening under the window and give him what-for.

He'd never felt so happy at reaching his small dormitory room as he was right about then. Pulling the sweater off, Waver flopped down on the bed. Something poked out of his travel bag, and he leaned over to pick it up.

Tears ran down his face when he did. It was nothing particularly special: just a white shirt with a map marked across it that was several sizes too large for him. But it was the memories that were associated with said shirt, particularly the statement said when it was first put on; "How fantastic! Having the entire world mapped across my chest!" He'd been sure that the previous owner of the shirt, his Noble Spirit Iskandar, was going to tear the seams with how big his muscles were. It had also resulted in an argument and bargain about XXXL pants, which he'd had to get before any of the other spirits were fought just for the sole reason that he'd needed Iskandar to be able to walk in public without causing too much of a scene. How Iskandar had loved this shirt . . .

Looking again at the back of his right hand, where the command seal had been, Waver started muttering a few things in Iskandar's native tongue, which was Greek. They were just random words, courtesies really, and Waver sighed before finally muttering softly "Iskandar." Tired and still suffering serious jet-lag, Waver rolled over and fell asleep, the shirt held tightly in his arms.

"There's this total weird vibe going on."

"Yeah, I know."

"It seems to hang around one of the boys."

"Like we're going to be attacked or something."


Waver paused his walk to listen to the strange conversation.

"It's more of a weird aura, anyway."

"Yeah, so mystifying and strange."

"I'm surprised none of the teachers have done anything about it."

Waver kept walking. Ulric was going to be teaching basic summoning to the class, and he didn't dare be late. He got to the open area that was to be used for summoning, noting that while it was outside, it wasn't anywhere near the courtyard where Kayneth used to teach them.

"You'll each be conjuring familiars. First is Ezra Malloy."

The boy conjured a rat familiar.

"Elliot Grafton."

Another rat.

And so things went on. Most of the familiars were rats or ravens, a few girls managed to conjure doves, and one called up a fat little bug-eyed pony.

"Waver Velvet."

The thin boy stepped up and placed his hand, palm out, with his left hand on his right arm at the elbow. Closing his eyes, he began to concentrate. Suddenly, in the space beside him, there was a swirl of black energy with red strikes of lightning sparking out of it. There was a loud snorting sound, and Waver opened his eyes, recognizing the noise.

From out of the hole came a pair of oxen that towered over Ulric, their noses coming even with the greasy-hired man's face. Behind these impressive oxen was a huge and equally impressive chariot. But it wasn't the oxen nor the chariot that had Waver's attention (though it was on the minds of a few students who'd had to jump out of the way). It was the large, well-muscled, red-haired man that stood in said chariot.

Ulric was furious and spared no effort what-so-ever in making sure Waver knew it. "You little brat! I'll have you know that a useless whelp like you isn't supposed to be trying to pull high-level magic like this! You ungrateful whelp, I ought to . . ."

"Silence!" boomed the large man from the chariot, where Waver had retreated in order to avoid a few of the articles that had been thrown in his direction. "Who are you to speak out like that against the master of Iskandar, King of Conquerors?"

"I'm his teacher, Ulric von Hellberg, and he's attempting to pull a spell that is beyond his blood-line's ability . . . Who'd you say you were, again?"

"I am Iskandar, King of Conquerors!"

"Just drive this contraption to the courtyard." said Waver, an embarrassed smile on his face. Why was his chest aching like this? Why was he so happy that the huge brute was back? Speaking of . . . "Why are you back, Iskandar? The Grail War is over, and I lost."

"You summoned me back." Iskandar replied. "Grail War or not, something stronger that just a command seal ties us together."

Unsure about why it made him feel the way it did, Waver smiled. His smile quickly changed to a look of shock as Iskandar lifted him up onto one of his hugely muscled arms. "Besides, win or lose, there was purpose in everything we did. When we fought in the mighty Grail War, I felt a stirring in my chest. True, there was the glory of battle, but there was something more. On the day I was defeated, and was sent back to my time, I realized what it was." He lowered his arm where he'd perched Waver, his other hand placed just behind the boy so he wouldn't fall. "I realized that I had fallen in love with my master."