Another day, another group of males... trying their hand at removing the sword from the stone. "Tsk..." a sound like a gentle inhale of annoying breath took place. In the back of this church a young woman sat, just out of sight. Her hood up, she seemed to be unamused by the goings on. She'd seen this sight before. Time and time again, day in and day out, for a number of human lifetimes. Everyday, she came to this church anytime there was a large gathering of males, and every day, no one managed to pull the sword from the stone. It was almost as if no one was ever going to show up. 'Gambare yo!' she thought, in an absent sort of way, magenta eyes coming to a close. There was nothing to see here, nothing of interest ever happened here. She'd just close her eyes and pretend to nap, until the rabble left...
Ah, but the moment one got used to droll normalcy of village life, that was the moment at which it changed. A boy, young, blonde and green eyed fell through the roof of Saint Paul's Cathedral. She'd been here for quite a while and she'd never seen anything like this happen before. He looked like every other farm boy from the nearby parish, aside from having a marginally cleaner appearance, but still... it was a point of interest. People fell all the time so the towns people had no interest, but this lass in the back, with her hood up and a tuft of white hair sticking out seemed to be at least subtly interested. Perhaps she'd watch for a while longer, and see if this lad was indeed the one she was waiting for. He didn't look like much right now, but then again, in stories like these, they never did.