A big thank you to those who commented on ao3, for those I mainly continue this story! Hopefully there are some people here on ffn who enjoy it as well!

To set foot on Lukedonia after so much time felt more than just strange. What devil had ridden her to come back here? Janna always liked to think that she had a good intuition, reliable enough to trust fleeting feelings. Now, accompanied by two soldiers of the central knight, she was not so sure about that anymore. Why had she not stuck with her original plan? Once, all of this was familiar, though now, the looming castle of the Lord felt ominous, threatening. No one could promise that the Lord was still the young noble she knew and cherished. No one could promise that she would not be found guilty by association. Janna was not too naive to suspect that she would not be met well here.

The seam of her plain black dress trailed over the marble floor as she approached the throne of the Lord, past the currently present clan leaders. She recognized Gejutel and Claudia, perceiving them from the corners of her eyes. The others were only vaguely familiar, children she used to know. Now they were adults, clan leaders.

Silently, she curtsied before the Lord, head lowered, remaining in this position until spoken to. For a few moments, the silence was almost unbearable.
"Janna Lucretia Drosia. I see you decided to return, now of all times. Speak."
"Lord. The Leader of the Clan, Edia Drosia, entered eternal sleep." She dared glance up, trying to discern what Raskreia might be thinking. Did their former friendship mean anything? Was there still enough left to win her goodwill? Janna felt uncomfortable, exposed to the glare of the Lord and the gaze of the other clan leaders in her back. "The soul weapon moved on to me. This is the reason I came here."

"And you say you ignore the circumstances of your former leader's demise?", the Lord finally inquired. Was she mistaken... or did Raskreia have to consider what to ask next? The question felt too carefully worded.
"I haven't spoken to Edian in the past ten years, Lord," she replied after a few moments. What was the actual background? You know what happened, don't you? She was tempted, but refrained from asking anyway. One should not question a Lord, especially not in front of other clan leaders. From the moment she had set foot here... There was a tension in the air. The central knights were on edge and if she was not mistaken, they had passed the site of battles on their way to the castle. Just what had happened here?

Even though the silence did not last longer than a single minute, it still felt like an unbearable eternity of anxious wait. Eventually, the Lord raised her voice again, having come to a verdict.
"By virtue of the friendship we once held, I shall believe you in this regard, for now. We will continue this conversation in private."
Janna breathed a soft sigh of relief and rose from her reverence, straightening out the black velvet. Briefly, she glanced to the other clan leaders. Why... just what was going on here? This was exceptionally somber and bleak even for noble standards.

The two women sat down in one of the many parlors of the castle and for a while, Janna merely listened to the summary of the recent events. The Noblesse's return. The Union attacks. The traitor invasion... However, nothing touched her quite as her aunt's fate. They never have been close. A shadow had lingered over Edian's soul and no one noticed. Yet again she had failed to see the sorrow of someone who was supposed to be close to her. Could she have been saved? Could anyone have helped Edian? Maybe if they had paid more attention to her... maybe if they had cared more about her... But they didn't. She didn't. Father didn't. Back then, even mother didn't. Not even about her own sister. And so they have left Edian to her fate. To lament it... wouldn't that make her an awful hypocrite?
"I am sorry for your loss, Janna," Raskreia finally said, breaking the silence that had followed the accounts of the past months. "You are her closest living relative. That's why the soul weapon moved on to you. It is yours by right."
"I don't think I am fit to be a clan leader," she confessed. "All these years, our people turned to my father anyway."
Carefully, she glanced at the Lord, trying to discern her reaction.
"We all grow into our roles and duties. I have no doubts you will, too, in time... Until then, I allow you to stay here. Welcome home."

For the first time since their reunion, Raskreia smiled and Janna returned it with a quiet, heartfelt relief.
"I … apologize for leaving. I know I should have been a better friend to you... So.. thank you. I know I am bad at this, but... I am grateful you still let me return."
Raskreia's smile dropped, replaced by an expression that bordered on quiet disappointment. A deep loneliness she could not quite describe.
"I am the Lord and you are one of the clan leaders, whether you are ready to accept it or not. But don't think that all these years you were gone mean nothing."

Ouch. Surely, Raskreia had put her right back into place. Janna nodded softly. Right. You couldn't just leave for five hundred years and expect that your friends did not mind. "Thank you."

Strange. Of course, he'd expressed his condolences, polite as always, but something about this struck him as off, though Roctis could not place a finger on it. Jochanan Drosia was a pureblooded member of the clan, after all, and the reports did say that Edian Drosia, along with Lagus Tradio and Gradeus, fell that day. No, why was he questioning it in the first place? These news should delight him, even. That encounter with the Noblesse... had Ignes not released the werewolf Lord, he would have died there. Anything that drew more life force from Raizel was supposed to be good news for him. Still, he was not entirely dead inside yet. These people have been his friends once. One by one, Raizel had put them into eternal sleep. Zarga, his brother-in-law who often felt like a real brother. Urokai, fierly Urokai, too young for his responsibility, full of fire. He still sometimes felt mildly disgusted with himself for what they made him do. Edian, poor Edian, who loved Raizel as purely as one could ever love. Gradeus and Lagus, though he wasn't as close with them as with the others, they had still grown on him. No surprise, given how much time they had spent together.

One by one, he had taken them from him. He would not let him get this close to Ignes again.

"Frankenstein." Raizel's voice was soft as always and at once, his entire focus wandered to his master. He never spoke without purpose. All the papers before him could wait. They could never matter as much as whatever Rai meant to say now.
"Yes, Master?"
"Do you think we could have saved them?" A simple question, one that confused him at first. Them...? Did he mean... the traitors? Frankenstein swallowed, well aware of how much his master must hurt. They died by his hands, in the end, those who were his friends once. Even though he hadn't liked any of them in particular, he knew that their deaths did not leave Raizel indifferent. Long before he had found him, they were his sole company.
"No," he replied without much thought once he was relatively certain that he understood the question. "Their made their choices and paid the price."
He could not bring himself to feel much pity for them.
Raizel slowly turned his head back to the window, looking forlorn. Frankenstein hated to see him like this, preferred the quiet contentment he showed when surrounded by his friends.
"Frankenstein... know I will always cherish you."

Over the course of the following weeks, their relationship had calmed down. Maybe it would not be the same, but still, it seemed as though in a way, Raskreia was glad that she returned. It was all so strange, to see her like that... So somber, so serious. Every inch of her was beyond just regal. Such a burden she must carry... she, and the other clan leaders, all too young for the duties forced upon their shoulders by a generation that thought they were doing the right thing. Janna still felt bitter over it (that conversation would always stay in her memories, back then, on the balcony of the caslte. I am sorry Lord. I failed to be a good friend to your daughter. I am sorry. ) To disappoint people seemed to become a particular talent of hers, at this point.
Now, she felt almost guilty for leaving Lukedonia again after such a short time. However... there were still her people, the clan who could return to their homeland. With her sacrifice Edian had cleared their name of everything. Should she not let them know? Should she not tell them that they had a new leader?

Slowly, she entered the modern glass building in Dubai. The latest base for the Union's administration, if she was not mistaken. Up on the highest floor, her father held both his office and his living quarters. She swallowed when her mind wandered to someone who would have loved to live in a penthouse high above such a vivid city. There were too many people in this world she owed an apology.

"Janna. I actually hoped you would drop by."
She turned around to glance at her father. Not a very tall man, dark hair, a dapper pointed beard, a simple black suit. If it weren't for his eyes, she would not have suspected him to be a noble. Some were more skilled at blending in than others.
"Father. Aunt Edian died."
"Yes. I know. You have the soul weapon now, don't you?"
"Yes." Huh, he did not hesitate. Straight to the point.
"My dear child..." He reached out for her hands, patted them gently with his thumbs. "... we both know that you are not made to be a clan leader. All this... responsibility... being tied down with duty... That doesn't suit you, does it?"

With a frown, she pulled away her hands. "I was in Lukedonia. We can go back. Father. You don't need the union anymore! Our people can go home."
His soft, fatherly smile froze into an impassive expression she could not read entirely. It felt too cold, and filled her with unease.
"I am not going to leave the union. I will become an Elder. At last. It's about time, don't you think? After all these years. All these years, I was the one to take care of the clan, too. Don't be unreasonable, Janna. Let me set you free from this burden."
"No." Why? Why did she care? It was not a responsibility she wanted or an honor she felt worthy of. Yet something... something in his eyes, something in his tone, made her feel afraid. For the first time in her life, she felt afraid of her own father.
"No," he repeated slowly. "And why not? You are just like your mother. Do you think she would have wanted you to be forced to be the leader? Renounce the soul weapon to me. I will lead our people."
"No. I won't. It chose me. The Lord accepted me."
"The Lord! The Lord! The time of the nobles is over, you should know it better than any of these pathetic rats holing up in Lukedonia! It's either sink or swim. I didn't take you for the type to choose sinking. What for?"
"Because... because..." She swallowed hard. It was a feeling she could not name, yet one that filled her with nauseating fear anyway. "You don't sound like yourself at all!"
"Neither do you!" He was interrupted by the sound of a call – gritting his teeth, he turned to glance at the screen gleaming green. Her opportunity. While her father was distracted, Janna slipped out, escaping outside to the top of the building. From there, over the rooftops, away. Anywhere but here. What happened to him?! What kind of dark madness drove him to speak to her like that?! Could he really have been corrupted by the same hunger and lust for power humans were seized with?

Somewhere by the western coast of Africa, she finally stoppped, steps slowing. She should be near Dakar now, if she was not mistaken. Surely, she could stay here for the day, rest after the senseless flight across the continent.

Unfortunately, the universe was not done with her for the day.