Let us turn back the clock, to the time when the fire started, but not known…

Slid into her own corner, Eleanor snatched up her parchment pad and pen. It was something that she asked the Van Aifread crew if she could purchase one. Despite the suspicious looks, they allowed her to buy it.

Being the spy for Lord Artorius had its sacrifices. With the entire Abbey alerted to her traitorous actions, she hoped at he'd inform his Legates of her spy work. But in the matter of saving face, she did as she was told.

Eleanor gripped the edge of the table, feeling the boat rock over a wave. Thankful Innominat she was not boat-sick.

"Alright…" She said to herself, scribbling down her thoughts. "We'll do a rundown on every important person on the ship."

"First off is… Laphicet. Or Malak Number Two as Lady Teresa called him. A small boy Malak, clothed in a long-flowing robe. His hair stands in the front and seems to change depending on his expressions. Always seen with a compass."

The Exorcist smiled at her penmanship. Legible, detailed and to the point.

"Next up is… Eizen. A rogue Earth Malak. Tall, short-blonde hair and muscular. Uses his fists, despite having various artes. I'd say he might be tethered to somebody on the ship, but it doesn't look like it. Prideful and well informed in Abbey movements. It appears we need to up our security for the ports."

"Then comes… Rokurou Rangetsu. Brother of Shigure Rangetsu. Almost has the same build as his brother. A rivalry between the two. Becomes one-minded in duel battles, willing to attack allies if they interfere. Wields two short blades yet never uses his longer one. Why is that? The right side of his face reveals his daemonic nature."

"And now… Magilou." Eleanor paused, tapping her chin with the quill. "Uhhh… She uses artes like an Exorcist, claims to be a witch." She stared at her notepad. In all honesty, that's what anybody else on the ship would've said. They barely know anything about her as much as she tells them.

"And now, the leader of this band of renegades, Velvet Crowe. Middling height, hair that could touch the ground, tied by the loosest band. Dark, maybe pitch black. Clothing that could only cover the parts that matter with no shame. Doesn't seem to be effected with cold weather or hot beaches. Armed with a retractable wrist blade and additional foot slashers. The way she moves… It must carry some type of meaning. It's fierce, but… calculated. Like a cold flame coming to a blaze."

"It's almost as if she's carrying some kind of burden. But that's impossible, right? Daemons are just destructive creatures by nature. But she even recites Lord Artorius's maxims. Was she a former student? Why hasn't the rest of the Exorcists know about her? Is it because she became a daemon that Lord Artorius abandoned her? Is that her revenge?"

The redhead stared at her words. Velvet's description filed even more questions than the rest of the crew. Weariness held her shoulders but she shook it off and continued.

"She trains by herself, flipping, kicking and slashing. Her muscles are in constant motion. She may look a little thin but that's not the case. People hardly distract her, bringing a cool air about her. That piece of cloth she uses for her chest looks so loose I'm surprised that she avoids the nipple slip."

Eleanor stared again. Velvet's description looked more like a detailed outline for stage-show of the heroine. It almost seemed too detailed. Her mind tried focusing on other things.

Toned muscles that could break wood in a single strike.

Golden eyes just etching the supernatural.

Red… lips…

"Well it doesn't help that she just lays it all out there!" She cursed, throwing her quill to the wall.

Her hands trembled as she pulled away from the desk and looked at a mirror. Her face was blushed red. She needed to reaffirm herself. Velvet Crowe and her allies were her mission for spying, nothing more. Velvet Crowe and her allies were her mission for spying.

Velvet Crowe and her allies were her mission.

Velvet Crowe and her allies.

Velvet Crowe.

"Even the name just rings right…" Tired, the Exorcist returned to her bed. She could feel her face just burning. It was there. She never denied it.

But some things were just better buried in. Some things just can't be forgotten. Just like her mom's meals. Or the scream as she sacrificed herself for her.

"The sooner this mission is done… The better."