It was not unusual for him to sense Frau's presence on the strings of his zaiphon, especially extended as they were now, watching over the library as they did his own room. But Castor had known he was coming before the doors even opened. After the advent of the empire's agents infiltrating his church sector, Castor had taken it upon himself to set up "surveillance" strings throughout the grounds, first and foremost in his second home, the library. The vibrations on invisible strings all over the room and in his ever-ready dolls were now sizzling—faintly at first, gradually getting stronger—with a yellow, passionate and brazen kind of energy that only ever belonged to one man, and one man alone. It had unnerved him at first, a long time ago: the sharpness of that dour, sulking presence, without tempering qualities of any kind. But that had changed slowly. As Castor had grown accustomed to his outwardly unfriendly nature, he began to notice other characteristics, other colors—the subtler frequencies of kindness, compassion, devotion—swirled together into that attention-grabbing presence that was now heading purposefully in his direction.
The strings stilled just as the source of energy reached the door, which opened quietly to admit one tall, fully-outfitted clergyman into its halls. Castor closed the book in his hand and gently laid it on the nearest open table. The courtyard below was sunnier than usual today, he noticed, observing the little white forms of Labrador's assistants and their loving, oddly patterned movements, now using the shears, then switching to the watering can and back again. There was one place in the courtyard that seemed to be receiving the most attention. The doll attendant at his side cocked her head, and then bowed lightly to excuse herself as measured footsteps drew nearer and finally came to a stop.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
The tone of that voice was true, clear, and determined--free from the discoloring emotions of fear, pride, or shame, Castor admired. So different from how it normally was, almost perfect in serenity, if he could call it that. He closed his eyes and sent a trace of his spirit through hidden strings around the library once more. In the east wing, two students pulled a stack of heavy volumes on healing zaiphon and the more traditional study of homeopathic medicine. In the west, several other students pored over lecture notes, memorizing verses for the upcoming bishop exam. One of them had fallen asleep, and another rose suddenly, as if remembering a chore or duty left undone. All in all, a feeling of peace and normalcy that Castor knew was there, would have known was there, even without the sentinel threads he had so carefully laid, guarding and surrounding the place with a vigilance bordering on obsessive. In his own spirit, he could feel faintly the clouds of regret and restlessness that had led him here in the first place, to preserve and protect that feeling of peace he had so cherished, and very nearly lost. To let their lives go on as usual… so long as it was within his power. And he would make sure that it was, even for the one who stood before him, now staring intently into his face and awaiting a reply.
"It was his wish to return to your side, Frau," Castor said at last, willing himself not to read too closely into the spiritual hums and clicks emanating from his longtime friend. Frau too, seemed to sense the amplification of the other man's powers in this place, and made an uncharacteristically conscientious effort to inhibit his spiritual resonance as much as possible. "In any case," he continued thoughtfully, tracing his finger on the window now slowly down a few inches from a single point. "God would have granted that wish, with or without our help."
There was a pause, and then a sound that Castor belatedly recognized as stifled laughter. He looked up at last with some amount of surprise and saw Frau, as if he had never known a care or worry in the world, smiling down at him with warmth that enveloped his senses and felt far too brilliant for words. "Thank you," he said. And suddenly Castor found himself wondering exactly how long he had waited, for some catalyst or event, maybe anything short of a catastrophe, for the opportunity to simply reply, "You're welcome, Frau."