For a few tense minutes, Amelia didn't utter a single word. Her gaze remained distant, refusing to meet Shirou's eyes. Her arms were folded, shoulders stiff with either irritation or embarrassment—probably both. Shirou, on the other hand, leaned against the nearby wall with a barely contained grin, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.
"Guardians from the Ashes... really?" he finally said, breaking the silence with a smirk. "Even I can think of ten better names off the top of my head."
Amelia shot him a sideways glare. "You can think? That's new."
"Ouch." Shirou chuckled. "Still, anything's better than 'Guardians from the Ashes'—sounds like a band trying too hard to be edgy."
She groaned. "Can you not?"
"But now that I think about it..." He rubbed his chin mockingly. "Maybe it's not that bad. Has a certain dramatic flair to it."
"Seriously, enough already!" she snapped, half amused, half exasperated. "Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"
"Alright, alright," Shirou raised his hands in surrender, still grinning. "I'll shut up."
Amelia exhaled deeply, giving him a brief glance before her tone turned serious.
"After Astra was assassinated, it didn't take long for the Second War to erupt. And it was far more brutal than the first. What began as the tension between a few clans spiralled into a devastating conflict. Most clans were dragged into it, and honestly, it's more accurate to say they had no choice. They were either forced to pick a side or be destroyed."
Shirou's playful mood faded as he listened, absorbing every word.
"But," she continued, "there were a few who stayed out of the conflict entirely. Clans like the Zyrex remained neutral throughout."
"Wait," Shirou interrupted, puzzled. "I thought the Zyrex clan started the Third War?"
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Have you been living under a rock your whole life?"
"Well, the outskirts aren't exactly the centre for world news," Shirou replied smoothly, masking the truth with a harmless lie.
"Oh... right," Amelia said quietly. "The outskirts suffered the worst during the wars. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"It's alright," he said with a faint smile. "It's all in the past now."
She gave him a small nod, then pressed on. "So as I said, most clans joined the war, and a full-scale conflict broke out. Eventually, one alliance began to gain the upper hand. Victory felt within reach."
"And the ones leading that side?" Shirou asked. "Were the three heroes."
Amelia nodded. "Yes. Luna and Aldric from the Silvermoon Clan. Aiden from the Stoneheart Clan."
Shirou tilted his head, clearly unfamiliar. "Stoneheart...?"
"They're known for their earth-elemental mastery—fortresses of power and resilience. As for the Silvermoon Clan…" she paused, as if searching for the right words, "they're a bit of an anomaly."
"How so?"
"They don't have any innate abilities," she explained, "but every member is born with the potential to wield multiple elemental powers. It's unpredictable, though—no one knows which elements a child will develop until they awaken. Some get two. Others, three. A few, like Aldric and Luna... they wield four."
Shirou's eyes widened. "I thought having more than one element was rare."
"It is," Amelia nodded. "Most clans specialize in a single element and hone it to perfection. The Silvermoon can access several, but few can truly master them. Aldric and Luna were exceptions—true prodigies."
Shirou nodded thoughtfully, piecing the information together in his head.
"With the three of them at the helm," Amelia continued, "the tides of the war shifted. They broke through enemy lines, won impossible battles, and rallied the people. It seemed like the war was about to end."
She paused, her gaze drifting upward to the illuminated sky, where four massive images of the legendary heroes shimmered like constellations.
"And then," she said, voice lowering, "the Zyrex clan struck."
Shirou frowned. "But why wait until then?"
"The Zyrex Clan," she said slowly, "was one of the strongest clans to ever exist. During both wars, other factions begged them to pick a side. But they stayed neutral, refusing to involve themselves."
"They were waiting," Shirou said quietly, "for the perfect moment. When both sides were weak."
Amelia nodded. "Exactly. After years of attrition, broken defences, and countless casualties, the world was exhausted. And that's when the Zyrex descended like a storm. Their assault was so sudden, so overwhelming, that no one saw it coming."
"It's like... the Third War was just an aftershock of the Second."
"In many ways, yes. The world hadn't even begun to heal before it was thrown back into chaos. The Zyrex weren't alone, either. Allied clans under their influence struck simultaneously, ensuring total devastation."
She looked back up at the four shining figures above them.
"The army that stood against the Zyrex was led by Luna, Aiden, and Aldric. It was the final stand. The leader of the Zyrex was... monstrous. It's said he could flatten entire armies alone. The final battle between him and the three heroes is legendary."
"And only Aldric survived," Shirou muttered under his breath.
A quiet stillness passed between them, the weight of history settling like dust.
Then Shirou spoke again, his voice softer this time. "You know... if they're heroes to you, then why do you sound like you hate them?"
"I don't hate—" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. "Wait. How did you—?"
"Just bait," Shirou said with a slight grin. "And you walked right into it."
Amelia's expression faltered. She looked back at the glowing sky, but her voice was devoid of sarcasm this time.
"I hate them because they're the only ones people remember. Everyone praises them—calls them saviors. But they weren't alone. Others fought. Others bled. Others died."
Her words hung heavy in the air.
"What about the rest?" she whispered. "What about their sacrifices? Were they meaningless?"
Shirou looked at her, and in that moment, he saw more than frustration. He saw pain—deep, unspoken pain. Someone she loved must have perished in the war. He didn't know who, but he could tell they mattered to her. Deeply.
He turned his eyes to the sky, studying the four shining figures.
"You know," he said quietly, "I don't think people have forgotten. It's not that they worship only the four as heroes. It's more like…"
He paused, then continued, his voice carrying a sense of quiet reverence.
"They're a symbol. A reminder. That even in the darkest moments, someone will always rise. No matter how hopeless, how terrifying the odds… someone will stand up. And through them, people believe that we can endure. That we will endure."
Amelia blinked, the words striking something deep within her. Her lips parted slightly as if to respond, but she said nothing.
Then she looked down and whispered, "A symbol of hope..."
A breath passed, and a small smile crept onto her lips. "You might be right. I still hate it... but maybe you're right."
Silence returned, gentle this time.
Then she tilted her head and asked, "Do you like toys?"
Shirou blinked. "Huh?"
"You were staring at the toy section a lot earlier," she said with a teasing smile.
"Oh, that?" He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just remembered something."
Then he turned to her, more serious now. "Hey... can you do me a favour?"
---
Shirou stood quietly at a distance, hands in his pockets as the twilight deepened. Amelia stood near the steps of the orphanage, beside a little girl with sparkling eyes—Nana. In Amelia's hands was a large, plush tiger-like toy that looked far too big for the child to carry but perfect for hugging. Nana's laughter rang out like chimes, pure and untainted by the world's sorrows.
After a few more minutes of soft conversation, Amelia gave the girl a final wave and stepped out of the orphanage.
"You sure you don't want to talk to her?" she asked, approaching Shirou.
Shirou shook his head, a distant look in his eyes. "No. It's better this way."
He cast one last glance toward Nana before turning and walking away.