"Good news... the Chief Druid hath divined an auspicious date fer the ritual. He suggested that we cast it on the third Sunday from now. And, he also suggests that ye arrive on November 25, 2011. We shall leave for Stonehenge on the third Saturday."
Rin forced a smile. "Tis good news indeed, Master, but art ye sure that I am ready?"
"Aye... if ye art not, ye will be, e'en if we have to work night and day."
Internally, Rin cringed at the thought. "If ye say so, Master."
Merlyn looked out to the valley. "Besides... tis not well to rely on that spell to keep her here. We can-nae know when it will fail. Twas luck that Airianne was with her when she started to fade." She faced Rin with a grim expression. "Ye shouldna rely on luck."
Rin nodded. "Yea, Master. What should we study now?"
Merlyn scanned through the pile of scrolls, picked some out and handed them to Rin. "Illusion and Mana masking. Ye dinna want to be hounded by the Einzbern after ye free her spirit. Study these. I will be back in two hours and ye can practice what ye hath learned."
"As ye wish, Master."
---"Art ye still angry with me?"
Arturia ignored her and pretended to read her book. She heard Airianne sigh and watched her leave the rose garden.
She returned about ten minutes later with a tray of tea and strawberry scones. Damn Bedivere. She must have told her. Airianne smiled winsomely and put the tray on the table next to her. She carefully poured some tea into one of the two cups on the tray. Arturia shifted on her cot so that her back was towards the tray.
She heard Airianne's shuffling steps behind her. The scrape of a stool and the click of shears indicated that she had resumed her pruning of the rose bushes.
Arturia was prepared to ignore her offering of peace. However, a familiar scent wafted in the air.
Unable to believe her nose, she paused her reading and slowly turned around towards the table. She went over to the table and lifted the teacup to her nose. Then she cooled the tea with a few puffs of breath and sipped it. A sense of nostalgia swept over her. There was no doubt. It was camellia.
"Whither didst ye get this tea?"
Airianne looked up and smiled. "From Rhynne. Tis tea from a plant that only grows in the land of Nee-hun. Is it to thy liking?"
Arturia paled. She stared at the tea. "Yea..." If the plant only grew in Nee-hun, then did that mean that she was there before? Or, did Rhynne visit Britain before and serve her tea during her forgotten past?
Airianne was confused by the changing expressions on Arturia's face. She was sullen, then surprised and then disturbed. She noted how she stared at the tea. Something about the tea bothered her.
"Pray, if the tea is not to thy liking, then dinna drink it out of politeness. I will not be offended by yer
refusal."
"Nay... tis not so... I do like it." She slurped it to reassure Airianne. The feeling of nostalgia rose within her once more. She held the cup between both of her hands and stared at it again. "I like it very much."
Arturia's face seemed more pensive, with a twinge of sadness in her eyes. Airianne sensed that Arturia did not want to talk, so she simply said, "I am glad. Please feel free to have more." Then she resumed her chores.
---Arturia stared at the blank handkerchief before her. She did not know what to write. Or rather, she was afraid to write. A part of her wanted to know more about Rhynne, while another part of her sug-gested patience. She glanced at the clock. She had been sitting for the past thirty minutes and wrote nothing. With a small cry of frustration, she stood up, threw herself upon her bed and pounded it with clenched fists. After much pounding, she felt a little better.
She needed to clear her head somehow. Her feet guided her into the sitting room while her hands fetched the harp from the wall. She sat down on a stuffed armchair. Her eyes closed while her fingers began to strum a soothing melody, but somehow, the notes rushed forth like a torrential downpour that matched the storm in her heart.
She played and played until her fingers were sore. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Bedivere sitting nearby.
Bedivere simply smiled slightly and asked, "What disturbs thee?"
"Nothing... I merely wisheth to play."
"Is that so?" Bedivere paused and assessed whether she could press Arturia. She decided to try.
"Then, thou will not mind continuing where we left off."
"About what?"
"Thy first kiss... and thereafter."
Arturia's cheeks began to flush. "Canst we speak of something else?"
Arturia's bowed head and hunched shoulders touched a soft spot in Bedivere's heart. She sighed.
"Oh, very well..." Her eyes glanced at the locked door to the great hall. "What dost thou thinkst of Rhynne?"
Arturia's eyes lit up. At last, a question that she was not ashamed to answer. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time that Rhynne bandaged her.
"I like how she touches me... tis so gentle. Tis as if she was trying to care for a fragile babe. I like the fragrance of her hair." She paused for a moment as she remembered the cause of her distress before con-tinuing. "Tis a soothing scent that makes me want to caress those raven locks and bring it up to mine face."
She smiled warmly at the memory of Rhynne dozing in the wagon. "When she's asleep, tis like an innocent babe. I feel like... I want to protect her." And at that time, she did in her own way, even though the imagined peril was a swaying wagon over a rocky path. It was a bit difficult to scout over to where she sat, but she managed to do it. Holding her under that quilted blanket seemed so natural.
She remembered the first night in which they slept together in the same bed. The next morning, the first thing that she saw was her face. She lay there and watched Rhynne until she opened her eyes. As Rhynne whispered her morning greeting, the smile that graced her face brightened the room. It was then that she decided the boon that she wanted: that she must be with her when it was time to sleep for a week. "Her presence soothes mine troubled heart, especially during those nights when mine terrible dreams shook my sleep. Tis a joy to have her near."
Then she recalled the nightly stories and plays which she narrated. "I love the sound of her voice, her grace, her manner... Her stories art so entertaining. And when she acts, tis as if she were that person in the play."
Bedivere nodded. "I am in accord with thee. I hath seen many plays, and her acting is superior to most."
"Verily so! Dost thou recall 'The Maiden and the Green Knight?'"
"Yea, she played two roles side by side, and one can still distinguish the old woman and the maid."
"Precisely." Arturia sighed and strummed an aimless tune on her harp. "I miss those nights."
"So doth I..." Bedivere leaned back into her chair and grinned widely. "Thy affection for her seems deep, but art thou sure tis not a passing fancy?"
Arturia stopped strumming and shook her head. "Nay... I hath ne'er felt anything like this for another person. E'en though we hath met scarcely five months ago, I feel as if I hath known her longer. I want to be with her, to sense her presence nearby. And when she holds me in her arms, I feel as if I belong there.
Is that strange?"
"Not at all. Tis what I expect from a maid in love." A corner of her mouth curved slyly. "That assumes, of course... that thou art still a maid."
"Of course, I am! Thou knowst that I did not lay with Guinevere!"
Suddenly, the sound of rock crashing to the floor reverberated in the great hall. Arturia stared in hor-ror at the door and then at Bedivere. She stood up, put the harp down and tried to open the door. It was locked.
"Should we see if we art being assaulted?" she asked Bedivere with alarm.
"Nay, be at ease. The hall is being repaired. And tis futile to unlock the door. There is a barrier beyond it."
"Oh. Didst Merlyn hire masons to repair it?"
Bedivere stood up. "Nay. Anyway, mine thanks for thy song." She strode to the exit of the sitting room.
"Then... who is repairing the hall?"
Bedivere answered over her shoulder. "Someone who can restore it."
Arturia ran to the doorway. She cursed when she saw the empty hallway. It annoyed her that Bedivere was better at hiding herself than she was at finding her. The Aerie probably had secret passages just like Camelot and Bedivere used them well.
She marched back to the chair and slouched into it. Bedivere's words came back to her. The hall was enchanted, so a mere mason would not be sufficient. A mage would be needed to restore the enchant-ment.
There were only two capable mages in the Aerie. She got up to look for Merlyn and found her with Wybrenne at the Lily pond. She hurried back to the sitting room and examined the lock on the door. If only she had the key. Suddenly, she remembered the loose brick on the top of the kitchen hearth. She had discovered it while she was cleaning it. She hurried to the kitchen and was relieved that Airianne was not there. Then she located the brick at the upper left corner of the hearth and dislodged it. She grinned in triumph as a small crevice was revealed which contained a set of keys.
She took the keys and replaced the brick. Then she hurried back to the sitting room and selected a key that might fit the lock. She turned the key and the door clicked open. She opened the door to the great hall. The swaying of a suspended scaffold caught her attention. Just above the scaffold was the hole that Morgan created. It was about three-quarters full with new stone. On the floor below the scaffold were pieces of broken stone. Cautiously, she tried to peer around the corner of the doorframe, but her face hit something.
She recoiled back and stared at the empty air of the doorway. She picked up a nearby cushion and pushed it toward the doorway. It compressed against an invisible wall. She cursed. Bedivere did men-tion a barrier.
"Rhynne..." she called out. "Rhynne... if thou art there, answer me... please..." Every second of silence pounded a nail into her heart. After a minute of waiting, she closed the door, but took care not to let it latch completely. Then she walked noisily out of the sitting room and into the hallway. She stopped
in the hallway and removed her shoes.
With all the stealth at her command, she crept silently into the sitting room. When she reached the door, she pressed her ear into it and listened. She could hear the faint sound of scraping, some rustling and an occasional creak of wood. If she remembered correctly, the scaffold was made of wood. She twisted the doorknob and slowly opened the door to a slit wide enough to peek into the great hall.
Her heart leapt into her throat. Sitting on the scaffold was Rhynne. A small orb of light floated above her. Her back was toward the door and she appeared to be holding a trowel which she used to scoop some mortar from the box to her right. On her left was a small pile of irregularly shaped stones about the size of a teapot. She put the trowel in the box and raised a stone toward the hole. The stone floated away from her hands and fit into the outline of newly laid stones. She selected another stone and scooped up some mortar.
Arturia closed the door. Her thoughts were in turmoil. Why did Rhynne choose not to reply? She could only surmise that Merlyn told her not to. She did not know if mages had a code of honor, but if they did, then Rhynne would be compelled to obey her master. Furthermore, the door was locked and a barrier was in place. It indicated that Merlyn did not want anyone in the hall.
Then she recalled Rhynne's lone figure on top of the scaffold. When did she start repairing the hall?
Her heart ached at the thought of Rhynne spending all those lonely hours in that dark hall, quietly repair-ing it stone by stone. It seemed so sad.
Perhaps, that was why Bedivere baited her to talk about Rhynne. She chuckled to herself as she real-ized which answer caused Rhynne to betray her presence in the hall. She walked to her chair, sat down and picked up the harp. She began to play Rhynne's favorite melody. At least, she would not be lonely anymore.
[Author's note: Recommended background music: Fate/stay Night Animation Original Soundtrack, Kishiou no hokori]
Rin paused when she heard the harp. She glanced at the door and saw that it was closed. The melody tugged at her soul. Arturia played it for her whenever they were at the lake. Rin raised her sleeve to wipe a tear from her eye. She thought that she had left the sitting room. And yet, there she was, playing for her. Rin remembered the time when Arturia snuck up behind her without her noticing. This time, she caught her again. She smiled gratefully and continued her work on the ceiling.
The clock struck three. Arturia had been playing for over an hour. Her fingers were sore, but she kept playing. She would play until Rhynne exited the great hall. Suddenly, a hand tapped her gently on her shoulder. She stopped and looked up to see Bedivere.
"Tis enough. She hast gone to study."
"But... I did not see her leave!"
"There is a portal within the hall that sends her back to the east wing. She need not pass this way."
"I see..." Her face fell with disappointment. She stood up to hang the harp on the wall.
"Fret not. The hall needs much repair."
Arturia stared sharply at Bedivere before understanding crept into her mind. "I suppose someone must come by every day to repair it." she said slyly.
"Verily so. Most likely, after lunch and till about this time." Bedivere put an arm around her. "And since thou art idle, why not tell me of more of thy maidenly explorations of Rhynne?"
"Bedivere!"
---"Aenderungsmana."
Mana flowed from Rin's palm into the inlaid channels of power within the stones. One by one, the stones began to become translucent. Rin concentrated and maintained the spell. The hall began to
brighten up. Sunlight filtered through the stone and reflected off the smooth marble floor.
It took about half an hour to transform all the stones. Wearily, Rin sat down on the bench and glanced at the closed door to the sitting room. She could still hear Arturia singing. She laid down on the bench to get some rest.
When she had rested enough, she went to the wall next to the door. The job was done, and she felt like she deserved a reward. She put her hand on the wall and chanted, "Aenderungsmana."
The portion of the wall near her hand slowly became translucent. The sitting room came into view, along with Arturia and her harp. She gazed fondly at the scene.
Without warning, Arturia opened her eyes and looked in her direction. Rin took her hand away and fled to a nearby potted tree. The door creaked open. She was certain that Arturia was looking for her.
"Rhynne..." Arturia's voice echoed in the hall. "Why, Rhynne?"
Rin hugged her knees. Why indeed? She asked Merlyn the same question after Merlyn locked the door and erected the barrier. Merlyn told her that it was needed to prevent Arturia from seeing her. But that was when Arturia was grieving over Morgan.
When she asked Merlyn again, Merlyn simply said to do as she was told as required by her apprentice-ship. Rin felt the amulet underneath her rough work apron. The penalty for disobedience was dire: the master could choose to seal, or even worse, destroy one or more magic circuits.
She could not resist bringing Arturia to the east wing. After meeting her in the laundry room, every day without her was torture. Her messages were the only thing that she looked forward to. So when Merlyn left to visit the Chief Druid, she risked a chance to see her.
But her chances were running out. Tomorrow, they would leave for Stonehenge. She gazed at the val-ley below. She would never forget this place. So many wonderful things happened here.
The door clicked behind her, but she continued to huddle by the potted tree. Her eyes wandered over the hall. In time, the trees would sprout leaves again and the banners and carpet would adorn the hall.
The hall would be restored to its former glory. Rin closed her right eye and peered only with her left.
She saw only darkness. She sighed and wondered if her sight would ever be restored. But even if she could not restore her sight, she still had a chance to help Arturia. She gathered her determination and stepped into the portal to the east wing.
---Arturia was reading on her cot in the rose garden when Bedivere opened door and held it for Airianne and Wybrenne to pass through. Arturia put her book down and gave a respectful bow to Wybrenne.
"Good morning, Lady Wybrenne."
"Good morning, Sir Arturia." Wybrenne drew a deep breath. "I regret to say that I bear grave news.
Mine Merlyn and Rhynne hath left to go to Stonehenge. They will perform the ritual to return her to the future tomorrow."
Arturia's eyebrows shot up. "The future?"
"Didst she not tell thee? She is from a future over a thousand years from now."
"Nay." Arturia paced within the triangle. "She didst not." Although she dreaded to hear the answer,
"Nay." Arturia paced within the triangle. "She didst not." Although she dreaded to hear the answer,