pIn the waning hours of August 31st, 1939, a strange sight appeared in the skies above Britain. Amidst the swirling clouds, a shimmering light tore through the fabric of reality, and from this tear, two figures emerged. They were Mary Burnett, a young Magus hailing from the modern era, and her Servant, the renowned author and Alter-Ego class Servant J.R.R. Tolkien.
Mary, dressed in her vintage Edwardian clothing, looked around in amazement at the landscape that had changed little since her favorite author's time. Tolkien, the embodiment of his own literary world, gazed out at his moonlit homeland with a mixture of nostalgia and sadness.
"I had hoped I would never have to bear this horrid air again," he murmured. "The world stands at the precipice of destruction."
Mary glanced at him, her green eyes filled with concern.
"We'll do our best to prevent anything like that, Mr. Tolkien. That's why we're here, after all. The past might've been written and done, but we can still make the future a better place."
Tolkien offered her a reassuring smile, then turned to their task. "Very well, Miss Burnett. Let us begin by contacting our allies."
It was not hard to find the means to message their comrades. A mere dozen or so minutes of wandering around and they stumbled upon a curious flock of pigeons, still active amidst the flickering city lamplights.
Tolkien communed with the white bodied birds through animal speech, giving each a letter, conjured by his Magecraft, that was addressed to their fellow Black Faction members
With a wave of his hand, the pigeons took flight, disappearing into the night.
Now that their allies had been alerted, Mary and Tolkien made their way to the nearest train station. The atmosphere was tense throughout, both boarding and the trip itself, an cautionary unease pervading the train ride to Stirling Castle in Scotland.
"It is a fine location. Old, defensible, and camouflaged by its mundane eccentricity to the prying eyes of common folk and Mages alike." Tolkien assured his Master, smiling to her warmly as he kept vigil for the slightest signs of danger.
Eventually, the rain ride was at its end, and they were greeted by the magnificent sight of a bastion upon a mound of ancient Earth. A fortress upon a hill. An old weathered stronghold whose sturdy time-tested walls promised to keep them safe for as long as they resided within it.
Of course, upon arriving at the castle, they also found it occupied by a small group of people. Tourists, custodians, historical afficionados, it mattered not. With a whispered command, the pair utilized Spoken Word Magecraft to put them into a deep sleep, making it easy to discreetly remove them from the premises.
Once the castle was emptied, Mary and Tolkien set up their Workshop in one of the grand chambers. They worked tirelessly, drawing upon their respective skills and knowledge to weave a powerful barrier around the castle – the Girdle of Melian.
With their base of operations established, the pair finally had a moment to catch their breath. Mary looked out the window at the sprawling landscape below, her heart swelling with a mix of awe and fear.
"Do you think we can really make a difference, Mr. Tolkien?" She asked softly.
Tolkien gazed at her for a moment, his amber eyes filled with wisdom and understanding.
"My dear Miss Burnett, it is in the darkest of times that even the smallest of actions can change the course of history. We will make a difference, you will make a difference, trust in that, and trust in yourself..."
As the pair stood side by side, gazing at the world they sought to save, their bond began to strengthen between Master and Servant. With their hearts united by a common goal, they prepared to face the trials of the False Moon Cell Holy Grail War. And though they knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, they held fast to the hope that they could make a difference – and perhaps, even change the world.
Together, Mary Burnett and J.R.R. Tolkien stepped into the shadows of history, determined to fight for a brighter future.