Long ago...
She didn't know how long she walked, just that she did. Emerald tree tops towered above her, the gushing of small streams echoing around her. The eternal pleasant warmth of the sun was both maddening and comforting.
In the beginning, she found the solitude and natural beauty of this place refreshing. Finally released from her timeless duty, the environment of this place cooled and eased her trouble soul. She accepted her life: her mistakes and successes, her triumphs and failures. Her oath had ended, and she was, for a time, content.
Indeed, time in place had healed her wounds. However, as time toiled onward, that once contemplative solitude began to transform in to mild boredom. She found herself wanting to continue forward, ready to continue living.
It was not long after that the monotony of this place allowed the boredom to transcend into the beginnings of madness.
Indeed, though it had healed her wounds, now time was threatening to engulf her. How long had she walked through the streams and the glades of this land? Months? Years? The loneliness of this place was beginning to eat away at her. She had encounter not a single other soul. Was there no other spirit worthy to walk with her in death? To walk with her, the King? Or was this solitude punishment for her failures in life?
In an effort to keep the monotony at bay, she slept often in a hope to pursue the dream that was now long lost to her. Only empty specters welcomed her in her sleep - shades of memories long past and the hazed visage of the one her heart of hearts called for. She found herself walking towards it now; him and that unattainable dream. Each step was hopeless, though in the back of her heart she could not help but believe each one led her a step closer to her desire. It was a child's faith - and as vain as it was, it kept her sane.
So many footsteps later, hundreds of thousands, she found herself at a shore. The hope in her heart had burst iat the sight - was this a dead end?
The azure waters, like everything else in this place, were gorgeous. She began to resent the perfection of it all. She glared down at the waters, and resisted the urge to spit upon them. She kept her composure; even in death, she still was a King.
Absentmindedly, she wondered if she would happen if she were to start swimming. Would she be able to carry herself away from this hell? Would she drown, and if she did, would she die a second time? Or would the quiet waves sweep her back to where she began? She continued to contemplate, when something shocked her from her reverie.
"My King! You who have wandered Avalon for so long now - is it's majesty not extraordinary?"
The voice that had spoke was greatly familiar - long missed and very welcome to her - came from behind her. Surprise and joy welled in her heart, and she whirled around to see the address the newcomer. She almost wished to break down and cry tears of joy, though she held her composure. She was still King, even in death.
A tired smile graced her lips for the first time in a long while as she considered the newcomers initial question . After a few long moments of silence, "I suppose," she answered. The initial awe of this place had long since worn on her, though it had been extraordinary to her once.
"Is the beauty here not radiant? Do you not just wish to lose yourself in the azure sapphire waters? To bask in the emerald glow of Avalon's woods?"
She held her silence, noting the sarcasm that dripped from his gilded tongue. The voice's owner was very much aware of the nature of this place as she was.
"Do you not wish to rest her for eternity? To put your tired soul at rest?".
She gripped her fist hard - so hard that she thought she might draw blood. No blood could be drawn, however; not in this place.
"My King," the voice gasped, mock surprise drizzling from every word, "are you not content?"
She laughed aloud, finding the final question too absurd to keep her silence for.
"No," she laughed. The answer came quick and easy. She was not content. Her dream - the continuation of it - had fled her. There was nothing for her here but eternal solitude and loneliness. An eternity in this place - this supposed utopia constructed only for the king - would only drive her weary soul mad. Every second she spent here made it more and more of a prison.
This is not what she needed from eternity.
This is not what she wanted.
Nor who she wanted.
She approached the newcomer, that familiar voice, the first soul aside from herself that she had met with in a very long time. He was grinning from ear to ear, showing more then his fair share of teeth. She knew that look - he meant to make mischief. At one time that look in his eyes would strike panic into heart, but today she felt security in it .
"Well, my King," he said, holding himself high and running his hand through his long, wispy beard, "let us see if there's something we can do to shake things up a little bit."
She returned his grin with brighter one of her own, and threw herself into his arms in a great embrace. Her old adviser, like a father to her... "I need to leave here," she said. "Merlin, I need to... I need to return!" To him.
"I can grant the former," he assured her. "But the latter... for that, we have much work to do. Dangerous work. How about it?"
"Anything..." she whispered... Anything to be rid of here, to continue her dream...
"...Anything," she mumbled aloud, the haze of sleep clearing. She awoke slowly, the vision fleeing from her mind. She pulled herself up, finding herself in strange, unfamiliar surroundings. She was in a futon, and not her bed in her own apartment. She kicked off the covers, and tried her best to examine the darkness in the low light of the moon. After a few moments, her eyesight adjusted and she vaguely recognized the architecture of the Emiya estate.
"...Saber..."
She tensed suddenly, finally noticing the slight, shallow breathing that occupied the room with her. Huddled in the shadows, slumped against the door was... Shiro.
She crawled slowly over to him, and found that he was sleeping, slumped over against the door. He was mumbling incomprehensibly in his slumber, and she edged back towards the futon so as to not disturb him.
She thought back to what brought her here - the project, and the promise of dinner. She had ate... And then, the deja vu - it had gotten worse, especially when the young girl had entered. She dimly remembered the pain in her head, and letting go - did she fall unconscious? So Shiro must carried her here, and laid her here to rest. Why didn't Shiro bring her to the hospital instead? Not that she was complaining - the last thing she needed was a doctor prodding her.
Still... the hospital would have been the appropriate response. So why was she here instead? And why was he watching over her?
She blushed slightly at that. She found it sweet of him - if a tiny bit creepy. Why was he taking so much interest in here? Why was she so drawn to him, like a moth to a flame? Why was he and everything here so blasted familiar yet so distant?
She slumped back into the futon, unsure. She had nothing but questions. She thought back to the dream - the strange vision and the clarity it held. She felt so sure of herself in the midst of it all, and now that clarity was gone.
"What was all that?" she mumbled aloud to the darkness. What had brought it on?
Furthermore, what did she do next?
Author's note: Short chapter, I know. I actually wrote this before chapter 5, but I wasn't quite sure where to stick it and have been sitting on it as a result.
Dangerous work, dangerous work ahead! Second chances don't come cheaply!
