A Fairy Tale?

[Siyr Arend]

Her diary sat beside her as she carefully copied the picture from an old notebook in blood. It was disgusting! Why did the stupid thing have to be involved with blood! She had even decided to use her staff to paint the blood on the circle, and was now kind of regretting it. It was getting dirty… it would have to be washed before she actually summoned. Siyr stood as far away as she could as she inscribed the circle, singing the chant, trying to make the ritual at least slightly prettier with her voice.

A hero is being summoned! Why does there need to be blood to do this… that’s not how a hero is called. They come to trumpets or fanfare, or in times of great need. Not in an ugly circle, drawn with chicken blood.

Then a thought occurred to her! She could have a fanfare; she would just have to hire someone to do it. A hero had to have fanfare, it was necessary. She would just wipe the idea out of someone’s head when she was done. So, after completing the half of the ritual where it could be broken off, she picked up her diary and went off into the street, leaving her diary and Artillery Staff behind.

The manor was nice, but not nearly as big as the one she normally lived in back in central Britain. It was suitable for a magus though, if barely enough for one such as herself. Siyr was a noble magus, and she had to show herself as such, after all. There were a couple of servants with her that she had brought over with her, but they hadn’t even bothered to learn Italian. She really didn’t care either, it’s not like they would have anything important to contribute. They were just servants, and that was their place.

She had lived in it for months now, and had prepared a rather nice workshop, and a simple boundary field around the manor itself to detect intrusion.

It had been purchased with some exorbitant amount of money, lying on the outskirts of the town as it was. Travelling back to town was kind of annoying for her, but a horse drawn carriage was always nice to ride in, even if she had to leave it waiting outside of town. Cars were so noisy, and undignified.

As she wandered the streets of Lucca she sought a bard. Even an inexperienced one, like those on street corners. There just wasn’t enough time to honestly look for a professional. A couple people stared at her as she was walking around. At first, she thought her clothing was wrong or something, until she looked at her reflection in a pocket mirror. She looked fine, and they never really did meet her eyes when they looked. Perhaps they can sense my nobility.

Yep, that was definitely it. Even in disguise as a peasant like the rest of them, the men could sense her nobility, and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Most of the women seemed to lack that sense, however. The busker she hired wouldn’t either. He was kind of tall, and the very picture of a bard. She could have picked him out, even if he wasn’t playing a guitar. He also knew how to play the trumpet, so she gave him about two-hundred Euros, and directions on how to get to her manor. Siyr would meet him there, once he picked up his trumpet from the place he was staying.

And so she waited at the gate of her manor. For three hours. There wasn’t much to do while she waited, so it was rather boring. The man never showed up, so she ran through the directions she gave him in her head. They were correct… Maybe he was waylaid!
He would probably show up later, and offer to return the money since he couldn’t give her what she asked. Siyr could just wait no longer. And so she returned to the large basement of the manor, and stared at the summoning circle once again. It even smelt bad now.

In the center of the circle was a rusty sword. Ancient, and in particularly bad shape. She had gone to Rocamadour to pick it up, thrust into a cliff face. It was an ancient piece of iron, rumoured to contain a fragment of the ancient blade, Durendal.

That almost made her squee. She was summoning not just any hero, but a knight! It was as if she was calling her own brother to aid her!

The fanfare was totally forgotten in her mind now, and instead she wanted to see the knight. Burnished armour, shining bright in the sun.

… There was no sun though, and it wasn’t like she could summon him outside. In fact it was even kind of overcast. Lights, I need lights! She desperately scrambled across the entire mansion for another hour, until she finally found a high powered spotlight. That would serve, if she could not have the sun.

One of the servants wired and hung it for her, pointing directly at the circle from above, like the noonday sun. Yes, that would be better; at least it would if she could not have a trumpet player. The light almost made her eyes hurt though, as she began the second half of the chant that would bring a Servant into this world, bring their spirits into this world. Bring heroes into this world.

As she began, she felt the world’s energies pour into the circle of blood, far beyond anything she could have mustered. It was one thing to know the world’s power, but it was another to experience it. She felt almost giddy as she spoke the final line, pointing with the now clean staff at the bright summoning circle.

“Come past they restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance…”

The whole chant itself had been rather dark; she preferred more clear cut, good sounding ones. But it was rather poetic. If she had written it, it would have been much nicer. At least it was kind of poetic.

[Roland]

The last words uttered by Siyr Arend echoed in the room, as if there was nothing but her in this manor. Words that went unheard by any, save herself and yet reached upon the heavens as if she were asking a holy being for direction on her way. The final line of this ominous, yet so poetic incantation was spoken; the words seemed to echo even louder in this noble room. The summoning was a success. She would have a being that surpassed the others, a being that will grant her its sacred presence. For protection, loyalty and honor until the world reclaims this puny soul back in its womb.

There was nothing. Only a mere gust of wind passed through the circle, reminiscent of a small hurricane with its mighty power. Orbs of light were formed as the wind accelerated, coming from the fragment sealed inside that rusty blade that was once sealed into a cliff face. The only fragment left in the sword shone, regaining the holy properties it once owned and was blessed with; that fragment sealed inside this once golden hilt contained the items of three saints and the clothing of a virgin mother.

It shone with a light even brighter than the room itself. The sword moved from the ground, as if it was picked up by some non-existent being wanting to grasp what was once this holy blade. The light started to travel through the sword, erasing every trace of age, every trace of rust that was once dominating it like a lord to his slave. Durandal broke free of its decayed prison as it regained its sharpness and its colors; a bright golden light started to shine on the hilt, and the dark gray blade was gleaming to the spotlight.

The once time-worn sword became one of the holiest blades of the lands. Durandal was floating in the room, as a gauntlet was slowly materializing upon its hilt. The orbs of light started to merge together as the body of a knight was forming itself. Slowly, a Paladin's body, the nephew of Charlemagne himself, presented itself; its blonde hair was dramatically flowing through the wind created by the summoning, its face almost unfazed by the bright light coming from the spotlight. The man was wearing a burnished armor, representing his whole life of service under his king as it gleamed with a brightened light for his summoner to see in all its glory.

Roland was summoned as a Servant for this Holy Grail War, under the Saber class. The man looked at his supposed summoner, a grown, beautiful and well-endowed woman was staring back at him with bright eyes and a pretty face; great excitement gleamed inside them. He was given his chance to serve for a second time, and this time was for this woman of noble blood that showed itself through her was of standing, so refined, so noble. He did not show attention to anything else, or anyone else; it was as if there was no one other than the knight and his lady, the one who allowed him to see the light once again.

The paladin reversed his mighty blade Durandal and thrust it into the ground as he kneeled in front of his summoner, ready to ask the question required for the contract to be completed. A voice worthy of command echoed throughout the room, asking for every inch of attention needed for this simple yet so complex task.

"Servant Saber, answering to your calling. May I ask you, are you my Master, milady?"

His blue eyes shone as the man stared at those of the one who summoned him, granting each of them their presence. In his mind, Siyr Arend was already his Master, the one he would protect until his death, like he did to Charlemagne.

[Siyr Arend]

The sword… flew!? It had been accompanied by a blast of wind that blinded her temporarily, her hair blocking her vision. When she looked back, the rusted blade was floating, glowing like a star from the heavens.

Then, then a light made her eyes clamp shut once more. It was as if she was staring directly at the radiance of the sun.

Purple spots crossed her vision as she once again opened her eyes. Before her stood a knight, the pinnacle of the word, perhaps the very definition of it!

And she had missed his actual appearance. A slight pout formed on her face, until she managed to pull it back.

It was just as she had hoped. Blond hair drifted back and forth across his beautiful blue eyes as the aftereffect of the small gale shifted around the room. Once again, his appearance, even his every slight shift of stance told her he was a knight. There was no other word that could be used to describe the being in front of her.

And he was hers! That thought echoed through her mind. Hers! An excited smile crept across her face as his eyes bore into hers. He was reading her, just as she had read him. His gauntleted hand, shining, shifting, reflecting under the light from above gripped the newly reformed blade.

He knelt. She almost collapsed. Somehow, however, she managed to maintain the image of a magus. The idea of him, kneeling to her should not do that. Arend was a noble family, extending far into the distant reaches of the fall of the Roman Empire. Knights had served them before but it was obvious that this man, the one who wielded Durandal, was a knight among knights.

His blade pierced the flagstone of the floor like it had been a stick into water. Even that was perfect. And his voice! It would have drawn every eye in the room to him, had there been more than just Siyr’s. If he spoke to the tides that way, they would listen.
"Servant Saber, answering to your calling. May I ask you, are you my Master, milady?"

A careful breath parted her lips as she answered. There was only one possible response, and there was only one response she wished to give. “Seur knight… Seur Roland, if I may be so bold, I am indeed the one who called you.” That sounded flowery enough, courtly language was a skill she had tried to have, but often seemed to fail. But a magus should be able to speak in such a way, a way to advise kings and rulers. “Yes, I am your Master.”

A slight shiver crept up her spine as she stared at the knight. “Rise…” was all she could manage to eke out, and he did. A bond had formed between them, a contract created between two willing partners by the Grail. And… she could hold it in no longer.

She touched the knight’s face, ran her hand along the side of it, checking to see that yes, he was real, and the knight was not a mere shade, nor a dream. No shade could take a form such as this!

Her hand pulled back, slowly, and almost reluctantly. There was only one other knight like this that she had ever seen. The fact that he was comparable to her brother… it was almost like he was there. Her heart jumped, she would do her best with him, Saber. What a ridiculous name, a common sword. He should be called knight.

“I am Siyr,” She waved her concentration aid, that magnificently crafted staff, slightly, like it was a badge of office. It was to her. “Magus of the Arend family.”

She paused, taking a moment to draw herself up to her full height, prominent and noble, “This world has called us to fight… what reason were you called, why do you wish for the Grail” A little stifled giggle escaped her mouth. She would give Roland whatever aid he required. She hummed to herself a little while waiting for an answer from the shining knight. It was going to be fun!

[Roland]

It was certainly a given that the voice would fit with such a beautiful appearance. Roland saw his Master's every movements with a keen eye; her posture, her smile and even her eyes were slowly analyzed by the paladin. He listened to her words like they were the words of the greatest sentient being in the world, a fact that was extremely right, only because that woman was Roland's prana anchor in this world.

She has also called him by his given name, Roland, meaning that she summoned the blond on purpose. She was indeed ready for the Holy Grail War. He listened every last word that came out from Siyr's lips until it concluded to her confirmation to being the paladin's Master. The man softly smiled as he went through that familiar feeling again; he felt like the loyal, brave and honorable knight he was for the second time, something he hoped would last as long as the newly formed contract between the two of them was officialy active.

"Rise..."

His face became controlled once again as, like the obedient knight he was, Roland rose from his kneeling position, removing at the same time the sword he has planted in the floor. As he finished sliding Durandal into its scabbard, he could feel something soft landing on his cheek. He turned his eyes away from his scabbard to take a look at what was giving him this ticklish feeling.

It was a hand. His Master's delicate hand was slowly stroking his cheek, as if she was making sure that she has summoned him, a Servant. It faintly reminded him of his fiancee back in his old days with the Franks, but that thought only lasted for a second, enough to unconsciously forget the old days as the hand left his cheek and was lead back to its owner.

"I am Siyr, Magus of the Arend family." The slight wave of a well-crafted wooden staff punctuated her sentence as she introduced herself to her Servant, the paladin. Roland could only feel like he should introduce himself as good manners, even if Siyr knows of his identity.

"I am Roland, paladin from the Franks and nephew of the King Charlemagne."

He paused as he saw Siyr adopting another posture that was very familiar to him, one of a noble. It was probably to cement her status as a magus; such gestures were common in the old ages where status was extremely prominent. “This world has called us to fight… what reason were you called, why do you wish for the Grail?” Roland heard a giggle, even if it was very suppressed, escaping from his Master's mouth.

What would Roland want from the Grail? It was probably unknown, as his original purpose was to serve again, and that wish was already granted. If he would think of something else, which surely is the case, his wish would be to prevent himself from nominating his step-father, the one who caused the ambush and Oliver's death... Or maybe kill Ganelon before he could even think of plotting against the Franks, but this was but a dark thought, unfitting for one such as Roland who was considered a model knight, a paladin.

"I was merely called to serve under another person once again, as this was my original purpose." He paused, searching for more words to pour in his speech. "I have no such thing as a wish for the Grail at this very moment, but I will give it some thought." He punctuated his sentence with a slight grin unique to him, which was considered his trademark in the old days with the Franks. "How about you, my lady? You must have a purpose for calling a Servant for the Holy Grail War. If I may be allowed to be curious, what is your wish for the Grail?"

[Siyr Arend]

"I was merely called to serve under another person once again, as this was my original purpose. I have no such thing as a wish for the Grail at this very moment, but I will give it some thought."

Siyr was about to respond as a small grin lit up the bright knight's face, it now seemed even brighter than the shining armour, which at that point began to approach angelic. How could he have no wish? His story was one of tragedy in some places, dying before it was needed, not saving his friends life, treachery…

She had read it at one point as a child. Her memories of the story had made her choose the catalyst as she had. And the fact that she really wanted to summon a knight! She smiled at the knight too. By the time she remembered that she wanted to respond, however, Roland was already continuing.

"How about you, my lady? You must have a purpose for calling a Servant for the Holy Grail War. If I may be allowed to be curious, what is your wish for the Grail?"

Her wish? She didn’t really have one either, now that she thought about it. She was just here to… be here, to get the renown and glory. Her lips pursed, and then went into a slight pout as she responded

“There is no need to ask for the right to speak, Seur Roland.” Her face went back to normal again as she continued “I don’t have a specific wish, myself! I… guess I could use Akasha, but I’m more here for you!” Yes, that was her goal now, to help him. Maybe even help him realize his goal.

Maybe I should tell him that!

Siyr’s mind changed right there and then, and her face went into an expression she thought matched deep thought. “Actually, I kind of do have a goal! To help you with yours… which is serving me in the war. Hmmm. Hmmm.”

Thoughts drifted through her head like sticks down a stream. Until one stuck. We could just fight in the war! That would be serving me, and maybe he will think of a better goal!

“I have it! We will just fight in the grail war and see what happens. Then you can come up with a wish, and I can help you get it. That will be my wish.” Another smile broke out across her face now. He was really nice, and the Grail War would be fun with him by her side. It was just another competition, one that she would win.

Then she paused sheepishly for a second, and her eyes were bright. “Can I, can I just call you Roland, Seur Roland? If it brings any offense to you, I can stop though.” Her voice trailed off again. There was something else she meant to ask. Wait, it was if he needed anything. “Is there anything you need, or need to know? Anything, or about anything.”

[Roland]

Roland was a little confused once his mind registered his Master's words. She does not have a wish in mind? Just what kind of Master was she? The paladin wanted to laugh at this situation; neither the Master nor the Servant had a specific wish for the Holy Grail to grant. Siyr has also said that she was more here for Roland, which meant in his mind that she wanted to spend time with a knight, a Servant instead of doing whatever other Masters would do in such a war.

The blond watched as Siyr's face changed to one filled with thoughts, like she was searching for words. “Actually, I kind of do have a goal! To help you with yours… which is serving me in the war. Hmmm. Hmmm.” Summoning a Servant to grant him or her a wish, what a special woman.

He was about to respond to his Master as he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by an exclamation. “I have it! We will just fight in the grail war and see what happens. Then you can come up with a wish, and I can help you get it. That will be my wish.” Siyr's speech ended with one beautiful smile forming across her face. Roland liked the idea of thinking up a wish while in the war.

"Understood. It is a very nice wish, my lady."

However, that also meant that he had to think of a certain wish, and a good one at that. Just now he had plenty of ideal wishes in mind, some that he hated and some that he liked; he was unsure about what kind of wish he would like the Grail to grant. It was official. The paladin had to find the perfect wish for himself; one that would change his life, or history itself, depending on what he wants.

The blond paladin was shaken out of his thoughts as he suddenly heard the young woman requesting the right to call him by his given name. His face remained unchanged, just like he was taught to in his old life. "It is of no offense to my person, my lady. You may call me by whatever name you may think of, and I shall accept it as if it was my true name. It is, however, recommended that you, my lady, call me by my class name in public, as not to divulge the other Servants of my true identity."

He then thought about what else he needed to know, or what else he needed. It would be wise to know what kind of plans did his Master create for this war, or if she was truly ready for whatever attack may come to her.

"Yes." The blond nodded as he searched for words, pausing. "What are your plans for this war? Do you have a precise schedule? Do you have any orders for me to carry out? And more important, what do you know about this war and Servants in general?"

[Siyr Arend]

Right. The secrecy of the war. She had forgotten about that. That was disappointing; Saber was kind of a… simplistic name for a man like this. But he recommended it, and calling him knight might give away something. People seemed to be blind that way, they could not just look and tell that a man was a knight, or a worker, or a noble. In fact, she seemed to be the only one who could tell. Do they just ignore the signs, or can they really not see?

And he spoke of… plans? Well she had a manor here on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by a decent boundary field. But other than that, there was no real plan. How could one plan for anything in advance about something like this though?

“I guess it’s… Saber then.” Her voice was tainted with disdain for a name like that. “But I’ll call you Roland in private though!” Now it was much better, she didn’t want Roland to think she had any dislike of his name or class, so she should end it on a cheerful note.

A knight like him probably would prefer his real name anyways, when it could be said. He had brought his own name to heroic levels; calling him by some other name was probably like a slap across the face.

“Ummm, I have no real plans for the war, other than to win it.” She brought her hand up to her chin, looking deep in thought the best she could. A smile also returned to her face. “And I don’t really have a schedule; I’m free to do what I want. “

Orders… orders, there wasn’t much she could think of right now… other than just one “Well… I do have one order for you: Win!” There was a bit of cheer in her voice as she moved on to the gritty question “Well, I know a little bit about the competition, mostly as its purpose. To regain the sorcery the Einzebern had lost by using Akasha. And that only one can win. Other than that…” She shrugged her shoulders, moving her body with a deep sigh “… I know little else, just like all the other masters, I’m sure. Just the classes, and things like that.”

That seemed like a kind of depressing ending to the question. Think Siyr, think! “Although, I’m sure you’ll teach me what you know, right?” Yes that sounded much better. She would like to learn from the knight as well. It would be fun! And, if he needed to know anything she would gladly teach him. Not that there was much someone like him didn’t know, she was sure.

"So what are you going to teach me?"

[Roland]

Hearing his master talking, he couldn't help but notice that she sounded disappointed about the Saber name. Saying 'disappointed' might be an understatement; her voice was filled, tainted with disdain, causing him to raise an eyebrow for a second. The disdain quickly switched to a tone of cheerfulness as the young woman decided to call him by his true name in private.

A nod was Roland's answer to Siyr. There was something he liked about being called by his real, given name in private. It made him feel less like a peon or the knight he is and always was. His uncle called him Roland, for example. Having his true name said, even in a murmur reminded him that he was still a human being and not some random warrior; a killing machine that would end up killed in battle. It was also the reason why, back in his old life, the blond called every knight he met by their name, and not by some other title like 'Paladin' and 'Knight' or, like some other men he knew, 'You'. That said, Roland always knew manners; if there was a honorific or any prefix related to the name like 'Sir' or 'Seur', he would use them without feeling pressured to do so.

He mentally winced. She had no plans other than to win? Now that he thought about it, this new Master of his only summoned the paladin to help him get his wish granted. What was she thinking? That she could summon a warrior, a Saber class even, and just go and fight? Surely this was foolishness. However, having no plans other that winning this war might be a good thing; that thing called 'fate' loves to trample days of planning. A simple unwanted intruder, whether it be someone, something or even a natural thing could foil a plan and probably send a group to their untimely death. That was just Roland thinking positive though. Being an optimist tends to help someone see things in a good light.

At least Siyr had good knowledge about the Holy Grail War. Someone did their homework before even thinking of summoning a Servant, which was a good point in Roland's book. She knows everything the average Magus that is aware of the existence of the war should know by reading a book, or by simple mouth-to-ear. But it had to be mentioned that only having the basic knowledge about the Holy Grail War is not enough for someone who wants to win, which leads to another thing.

"I understand, my lady."

Of course, teaching one who has attained the basic knowledge of the war should be easy enough. Roland brought a hand to his chin as he thought about what he should say and teach about the war; the Grail has given Servants such as him enough knowledge about how the war worked or even the basic knowledge needed to adapt more quickly to the modern era he was currently living in since five minutes ago. The blond left his thinking pose as he now knew what he should teach his Master, thanks to the aforementioned knowledge.

"As you know the basic things related to this war, I am going to instruct you on a Servant-related subject. Though before I begin, I suggest that you sit down." He paused as he pointed with his hand a couch. Once the lady sat down on the furniture, the blond resumed his speech.

"First of all, I believe you know what are Command Spells, which symbolizes the contract between a Master and a Servant. You might have felt something or some feeling somewhere on your body when said contract was acknowledged."

"Let me refresh your memory a little. Command Spells allow a total of three absolute orders that even a Servant cannot disobey. Those orders may be against the will of some Servants, who may be repulsed with doing such an order depending on its nature."

Roland adopted a proper lecturing position; his armored right index finger pointed the ceiling as he supported his elbow with his left hand.

"As there are only a total of three Command Spells on a sigil, and since said sigil represents the contract, once those three absolute orders are fulfilled or used, the contract is over and the link between your Servant and yourself is severed. In short, use those three orders and you are out of the War."

"However, said Command Spells can be used in another way. If you are extremely far away from your Servant, or that said Servant cannot join you because he or she is in trouble, a Command Spell may be used to allow us, in this case it is I, to break reality and assist you whenever it is needed as you have called your Servant forth."

The blond brought his still-supported right arm's hand to his chin as he searched in his mind for other subjects that are Servant-related.

"Hmm... There is also the existence of a link between a Master and a Servant. Said link allow either the contractor or the contracted to warn your ally or tell him or her that he is in danger. In your case, you can warn me whenever you are in danger, and vice-versa."

"As maintaining a Servant consumes prana to the contractor, the contracted, your Servant, can go into an immaterial state as to help his or her Master save prana and to appear undetected to modern society. Once we are immaterial, us Servants can still follow his or her Master. Compare it to an invisible bodyguard of some sort. If you ever need me to go into this state, just ask me and I will comply."

"I also need to mention that only Servants can sense other Servants. People like Magi or Masters cannot in any given means detect a being like I am. A Master can, however, detect other Masters as he or she can sense Command Seals."

Leaving his lecturing pose, Roland decided that this amount of information was enough. For now, at least. If there was any other things his Master needed, he would comply and fill her in with said information. Now was there anything else he needed to say before concluding?

"Ah, right. I forgot to fill you in with my Noble Phantasms. To be quick and brief, my personal Noble Phantasm is this sword, Durandal."

The blond unsheathed his blade as to show it off to his Master. Hearing the sound of a sword sliding out of its shell was always a wonderful sound in Roland's ears; he took great pride in being in possession of such a sacred and holy weapon. A confident smile formed itself on his face as he presented Durandal to Siyr.

"Durandal, the holy blade bestowed upon Sir Roland by King Charlemagne, contains within itself the items of three saints and the clothing of a virgin mother. This sword, my sword, contains three miracles, which are respectively Piercing, Enchanting and Healing, from First to Third."

He slid Durandal back in its sheath with a smile, still relishing himself with the sound it made. No wonder some people told him he had an unhealthy affection for his blade. In his defense, it was a sacred one.

"Any other information about my Noble Phantasms will be mentioned in your personal database located in your mind. Said database will provide you with information related to a Servant's personal parameters and Noble Phantasms."

That was one thing done. The more information one has, the more prepared he or she is for battle or for war. The man made an internal smile as he stared at Siyr's face, as if he was trying to read into her thoughts. Roland decided once that he gave enough information for now. Now to get on a lighter note, this new and modern era interested him. Sure, he had the information provided by the Grail, but he had this feeling that he had to hear someone talk about it.

"Can you tell me about this era's society works? I am very interested in this modern world and I... I want to know more about it. Please."

[Siyr Arend]

She was staring. Had been staring. Until she realized, that he too was looking at her, about to ask something as his thin lips parted.

What had he been talking about again? It was fading away quickly… The war, right, and information about… Going immaterial! Right! That just seems mean, though. Command seals, and warnings. Oh, and his sword. Got it!

Siyr could have laughed, of course she remembered it. She would remember whatever the knight said. His voice was charismatic, understanding, yet firm and reasoning at the same time. It was to be expected of a knight that led men into battle. Inspirational, and you were hanging on every word.

Except she had not been hanging on every word. Too busy watching him speak, rather than listening to him speak. Yet she did not regret it in the slightest. He really is like brother! A smile lit up her face, as Roland finished his question.

"Can you tell me about this era's society works? I am very interested in this modern world and I... I want to know more about it. Please."

“T-the modern world?” That was surprising, to say the least. What use would a knight have of the rather boring modern world? The time he had come from was more romantic, more ‘real’ time. When people were heroes, rather than just apathetic peasants. Ones who strove to touch the world with… technology, and in so doing were destroying it with their ignorance. Once, mankind had respected magecraft, but now held it in disregard, and as lies, mainly because of the church itself. However she had promised herself, and him, to tell what she knew. Her smile faded as she continued “I guess I can tell you what I know.” She lifted herself delicately, and stood from where she had been sitting, cross legged.

“The only thing that has really changed are people. They have gone from caring about everyone, to caring only about themselves. Otherwise, there are still bards, kings, and soldiers.” A deep huff resonated from her lungs, “Knights seem to be almost gone, though.” That was probably the saddest part about the modern era. In fact, that was one of the possible attractions of this war: To see other knights from the past… even if they had to fight. Surely a knight would come to a truce first, though.

“Mostly, they have just replaced things with other similar things, and called it progress.” Being this cynical was beginning to get on her nerves, but the ‘modern’ world wasn’t as beautiful as the one she lived in. And it wasn’t like she was going to lie to her valiant knight in shining armour. “Cars, shaped out of metal instead of horses, far less smooth, as well as being boxy and ugly. Just things like that.”

Not very good at this… not meant to be a teacher, I guess. Wait. She had not cleared out one of the wings of the house, and it was filled with books. Books about the modern era, encyclopaedias and things like that. The previous owners had apparently thought it too much trouble to remove them, and she had been relatively uninterested in them, once she had finished exploring the entire manor. Perhaps that would help…

“I’m not a great teacher it seems. But, I have a plan that fixes that!” Her gloved hands clapped together with a particularly muffled sound as she bounced back and forth from her heels to her toes.

“There is a library, filled to the brim with stuff about the modern world in here! If you want, we could go take a look at some of the books.”

Normally, that would be fairly boring, but she was going to do this with a knight. His presence made everything seem better. Even dry things, like the modern world. And besides, she wanted to see what he looked like when he read.