2006, Calgary
They buried him in the rain. Some, more distant members of the Holloway family wished to wait for the weather to clear up. Rachel knew that they'd be waiting a while. Too long. So, with grumbling befitting relatives who didn't really care, they walked through the puddles, cold, and mud in their heels and dress shoes. The priest said a few words. The same words. Funeral rites were just repetitions of the same few ideas, even if some preachers try to spice things up. It was said and done quickly. The family performed the traditional rite of lobbing the first handfuls of dirt into the grave, and then they all left. The wiser members of Rachel's extended family left first. They knew they wouldn't be getting any inheritance. What the eccentric Declen Holloway had to give wasn't for them.
When the attorney read out his will and everything was left to Rachel, the rest soon returned to their own lives as well, leaving Rachel all alone in the city. She was just old enough for the government to let her stay on her own, a high school senior freshly turned eighteen. The reading of the will was everything she had expected, save one surprise. Her father had one last little surprise for her. Her father's attorney handed her a key. It was an old, elaborate, metallic thing. Faint runes traced along the key. She had a feeling she knew what this would unlock. Her father's attorney wished her well, said he would take care of all the financial arrangements for his old friend's daughter, and sent her on her way. By the time she returned home, she was all alone. The house that had once brimmed with life solely from her father's presence now had none. Just her, and all the memories therein.
At first, being only a child, all Rachel could do was sit on her bed and sob. What else could she do? Her esoteric studies under her father had kept her distant from people her own age, and how could they know her pain anyway when all they seemed to care about was graduation? She felt alone, utterly alone, and she held that key, the last remnant of her father, close to her chest. She slowly fell into an uneasy sleep, and woke the next day to the sound of further rain outside of her window.
She didn't know what spurred her to go down to the basement, where her father's magical laboratory was located. It was hers now, even if she understood far less than she would like about how the facilities worked. Casting her blue eyes over the different alchemical devices, her mind briefly wandered to all the possibilities of alchemy. Perhaps raising the dead would not be so far out of the question. No, the thought quickly left her mind, that was a road that a person could not come back from once they had tread it to its end. Her eyes fell upon the key in her hands, and then back up to the portrait of her grandfather on the far wall. Making her way over, she held her right hand out and muttered some incantation.
The effort caused a pang of hunger to roll over her, but the portrait moved before her eyes, lifting up and floating over to one of the nearby bookshelves, where it gently touched the ground and moved no more. Behind it was a large door, a locked door. Rachel strode forward with confidence and twisted the key in the lock. To no surprise, she heard a click and the door opened. Seeing that the room below was dark, she got a flashlight out and turned it on, walking down there. She showed less caution than she probably should have. With her father's life and words burned into her mind, she didn't even entertain the notion that he might have been doing something unsavory. Downstairs, painted into the far wall, was an image of a chalice. Rachel had seen a similar image in books her father had made her read.
The question was, what was the significance? She looked around the room and saw other things. Inside different jars were pints upon pints of liquid silver and a red liquid that could only be blood, kept fresh and at an optimal temperature by small magical seals inscribed upon them. Upon the table by the jars were a stack of papers. Beside them was a small case, like the kind knives would be kept in. Rachel turned up the note and read its contents.
'Rachel,
How am I to fill up these lines in a way that can properly express my love to you, my angel? I'm proud of you. I'm prouder of you than I have ever been of anyone. Each day you look more and more like your mother. But I have little time to write of such things. My life will end soon, and this is not a subject to tell you as I die on a hospital bed. Before you were born, I labored long to perfect my magecraft, striving to master the mysteries of alchemy, ley lines, and everything else that I have taught you. I did so with a single goal before you were born: I wished to obtain the holy grail. There is a truth to the grail that most men will never understand.
And a way to touch the face of God. This is not a thing to ask of a young woman with her life ahead of her, but I beg you, make my dream come true. Inside one of the books in this room, everything will be explained in detail. And to ensure your victory, I have obtained for you a Lion. He will be your guide, and your friend. The war for the holy grail is still far off, but summon the Lion still. He will keep you safe, as I would. Again, I love you. Of all the magic I have worked, the greatest was the miracle of making you.
-Dad'
She read the words over carefully. The sentiment, the hints of regret, the love. And her tears flowed free, sick with grief as she was. Rachel wanted to make her father happy, and if that meant fighting other mages in a war for the holy grail, that's what she would do. Sitting against one of the walls as the sound of rain fell overhead, she read the book. She took in the intricacies of a side of magecraft thought by most to be a quaint oddity, out of sight and out of mind. Her heart began to race as she realized that her life would be put on the line. When the book mentioned that the grail would grant a wish, she set about the work of creating a summoning circle immediately. She worked like a woman possessed, drawing the seal upon the floor with blood and silver with a strange, meticulous eye to detail. It was as if all in the world had faded away except her, the jars, and the cold ground that she worked while muttering incantations.
At the center of it all was the dagger in the box. It was rusted, but the symbol of the royal family of England was on the pommel. Whoever this weapon belonged to, whoever this Lion was, Rachel prayed he would be strong enough to win the coming war for her. As she worked, her eyes fell upon her right hand. It looked as if blood had spilled over her hand. Taking a cloth, she tried to rub it off but found that it would not come off. Pointing her flashlight, she saw that the scarlet had formed into a pattern, like a red swirl. So, she had been given a command seal. The grail itself had acknowledged her desire to be in the war, and accepted her as a combatant.
Perhaps summoning a servant so early was unwise. Perhaps. There would be time for regrets and consequences later. As the seal was completed, she stood up and held out her right hand, the hand which now bore the command seal, to the circle.
"Fill. Fill my cup overflowing with the waters of victory. Fill my enemies with the steel of your blade. Fill my own heart with tales of your great conquest. Fill the world with the light of the grail as we hold it in victory. The third path opens, and I am one of seven stepping through. My body shall supply your power, and your power will supply my fate. North, south, east, and west. All points converge here and now, from your body forged from blood, silver, and prana. May you enter this world and find a worthy crusade! I am your Master, and I call you forth out of time to this place, Lion!"
As she spoke the words, the circle and her palm both rumbled with energy. Sparks of lightning and mana fired off and she felt herself almost lose control of the spell for a split second before her will managed to hold back whatever else she felt. The smell of sulfur and sand filled the room as a blast of wind spilled forth from the seal, knocking her back against the wall. The room lit up brightly and when Rachel next looked up, she was not alone in the room. The man before her looked every bit the king. A white cloak trimmed with a lion's pelt and head adorned him. Below that, he wore fine cut clothes which served to hide the faintest glint of armor. The man looked to be in his late thirties, or perhaps early forties, with a handsome beard adorning an even more handsome face. A lock of his long, brown hair fell carelessly down to his chest. Before the room returned to darkness, he smiled a cocksure smile and said, "Ah, so it's time for a war, is it?" And then, darkness fell upon the room. "Hmm? Do you not have a torch or lantern in this castle?"
"Oh, sorry, sorry." She muttered, running for the door and opening it, allowing light to flood the room. Both Master and Servant walked out into the light, observing one another. Rachel found herself unsure of what to say to him, what with everything considered. "Uhm…what class are you? And who -are- you, Lion?"
The man laughed a hearty laugh, a laugh that was neither condescending nor patronizing. Her comment caused him great amusement. "You would know who I am, girl? Go read your history books, read of the battles fought in the holy land in God's name. There you shall find my name, the name of Richard I, the Lionheart. Summoned here by the grail to act as Rider in this grail war." He gave a polite, flourishing bow before standing once more. "So, tell me, for what aim have I been summoned? What great ambition would drive you to summon me here to fight in your name, girl?"
Rachel paused at the question. She put her hand to her chin and mused over it for a bit before finally nodding, coming upon an answer that she found to be satisfactory. "My father just passed away. It was his wish that I fight in the grail war, and it is mine that I revive him using the power of the grail." She found the conviction with which she spoke odd. She hardly ever talked like this.
"Ah, so our enemy is to be death itself, then? A worthy cause, to uphold a legacy. Why, you're a girl after my own heart. So, when is this war to be fought?"
"Uhm…two years from now? I think? In Tokyo?" And once more, she sounded unsure and more than a little timid.
Richard the Rider paused. He looked at her carefully. "You have summoned me a bit early, then, have you not? And in a place that is not…Tokyo, I'd imagine." He stepped past her, walking through her lab and paying it no mind. Richard walked up the stairs into her house proper, seeing the rain fall down outside through the window. In the distance, the city proper loomed. She lived outside of it, technically, in a suburb. "What place is this, in which you have summoned me?"
"Canada?" She asked, unsure of why he was confused.
"Can…ada? Canada. Ah, my kingdom has spread its reach far indeed!' As he talked, he moved around the house, as if he knew where things were. On his first try, he managed to pull open exactly the right drawer to find Rachel's father's atlas. Leafing through the pages while he hummed, he finally saw a map of the world. On it, Richard seemed to finally understand how far away from England he was. "Oh my, so there was something across the sea! To think John was right, all those years ago when we talked of what was beyond the sea when we were boys!" Once more he filled the room with his laughter, falling into one of the armchairs in her living room. "So, girl, tell me of your great strategy. Do you mean to make for this Tokyo at once and stake your claim on the area with great magic? Why, you'd practically own the city by the time you were done!"
"Well…I don't exactly think the mages that already live there would approve of me doing that." She replied, taking a seat and trying to think of what -was- her plan. She hadn't exactly come up with one. Or why she had summoned him so early. "If nothing else, I hope that we'll be able to work together to a degree that most other masters and servants won't. After all, we have two years to get to know one another. Besides, I need to finish school before I can go -anywhere-." She'd say with a nod.
"A scholarly mind we have, and true thoughts! Why, if myself and the other kings with whom I lead my crusade had thought to better strategize together, perhaps I would not have been the only one to make it to the holy land! Har!" Richard's smile came so naturally and so easy. Rachel wandered if, perhaps, this was the easy charisma of a king. "I suppose I can stand getting to see the world again for a few years, not like I had anything better to do, decaying as I was in the throne of heroes, desperately waiting to get summoned." Richard clapped and stood up. "So, would you mind if we took a drive? I would like to stretch my legs."
"I guess, if that's what you want to do." She'd nod, taking her keys out of her pocket.
"Let me do the driving."
"But you've been away from the world for about eight hundred years. How would you even know how to dri-"
"Do not underestimate the power of a Rider, my young master!" Richard commanded before snatching the keys and walking out of the house, looking at her car and saying "Hmm…"
Rachel felt very unsure about this the more she thought about it. Richard the Lionheart had never even seen a car before, and now he was talking about driving one. Oddly enough, he knew to press the button on her key that would unlock the car, stepping in and putting the key in the ignition. Reluctantly, she joined him in the car.
The next hour was filled with surprises. Rachel came to realize that Richard was the single best driver that she had ever been in a car with. She noted that he seemed to, on an instinctive level, understand traffic laws, speed limits, and other concepts that she herself did not fully grasp yet, only being a young driver herself. Moreover, when she looked over to the odometer and the other devices reading out information about the car, she saw that it was replaced with strange blue runes in a language she could not read. Richard paid it no mind and continued to drive. It was only when they stepped out of the car that the information returned to normal, and it stayed that way until Richard began to drive the vehicle again.
Eventually, they found themselves in a park in the city. Neither of them really wanted to get out, considering the downpour, but it was nice to look at the April shower, cold as it was considering where they were. "So, your father taught you how to do all of your wizardry?" Richard asked.
"Yes, that's right." Rachel said, uncomfortable with the subject.
"Ah, then what a marvelous genius he must have been." The king said with a smile.
"Yeah, he was." She fought the urge to cry at the thoughts.
"What genius, to produce such a young genius such as yourself, with the conviction to fight for the grail." He gave her a pat on the shoulder. "He'd be proud of you, if he sees you. And he'll tell you as such when the grail grants your wish." Rachel took Richard's hand and held it. It was warm, and it gave her no small amount of comfort. For just a moment as she held Richard's hand, everything felt like it was going to be alright.
The next month of her life was a whirlwind. Rachel quickly graduated. The inclusion of Richard in her life actually made that last month more miserable, as when he manifested himself in normal clothes where others could see, the other girls spread rumors that she had found herself a new 'daddy' to replace her father. But the month passed, and she graduated top of her class.
By June, she had enrolled at a university in Tokyo against the wishes of most everyone in her social circle, plus her guidance counselor. No one questioned the fact that she could suddenly speak fluent Japanese thanks to a spell. By July, she was on a plane to a foreign land, on her way to starting a new life.
"It's going to be an interesting two years, isn't it, Master?" Richard asked, looking like an eccentric world traveler with his old-fashioned, but certainly fashionable getup.
"It most certainly is, Richard." Rachel said as she looked out the window of her plane, seeing that they were beginning their descent towards Tokyo.