Echoes of the Void
A Familiar of Zero/Kara no Kyoukai Story
Disclaimer: In this particular universe, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to elements of the Zero no Tsukaima franchise, Kara no Kyoukai, the Nasuverse as a whole, or any other modern works that I may reference in this story.
In a society where magic is the proof of nobility, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, has never managed to cast a single spell properly. Scorned by her classmates as "the Zero" for her utter incompetence, the Familiar Summoning Ritual is her last chance to prove herself worthy of a title. But imagine her surprise when she summons someone with a need to prove herself as much as hers.
A cool breeze sighed through the courtyard of the Tristain Academy of Magic as if to mark the arrival of the witching hour, when students and staff alike had long gone to bed, trying their best to escape the myriad stresses and pressures of the day within the realm of dreams to varying degrees of success.
For those few who had mastered the art of lucid dreaming, the mental world one could create was like a poor man's marble phantasm, where any possibility, no matter how unlikely, could be realized – where one could be anyone, do anything, go anywhere without restriction or restraint. Most others were not as fortunate, as they were as subject to the whims of chaotic fortune in their sleep as they were in waking hours, and were sometimes forced to endure the quite unspeakable horrors that could arise from the depths of one's mind.
Guiche de Gramont, son of General Gramont, and heir to a long tradition of ancestors who had distinguished themselves in combat, was decidedly not one of the lucky ones, for when he collapsed after watching the fateful duel, his mind had been trapped in a loop as he watched Montmorency being killed over and over again, with the demon hunter who killed her doing so in more and more twisted manners, while he could do nothing.
Sometimes her death would be a merciful one - her throat would be cut or she would be decapitated entirely, losing consciousness almost immediately without being allowed to suffer; sometimes it was worse, with Zero's familiar crushing Montmorency's windpipe and laughing as she suffocated to death, or slicing through Montmorency's chest, cracking open the rib cage and ripping out the still-beating heart, holding it up as an offering to the sun above before she crushed it in her hands, baptizing the ground below with blood; sometimes…those horrors did not bear thinking about.
But each and every time, two things remained constant: The familiar of Zero was smirking with cruel delight as she ended the life of the girl he loved, while Guiche himself could not interfere, could not cry out, could not even weep, paralyzed by horror, shame, nausea—and no small amount of crushing guilt.
Horror because even though he was the heir to a longstanding military tradition, he had never before been exposed to death, and in fact, recoiled from it with every fiber of his being, as it sank in that he was not invincible as he liked to believe, that he was merely mortal, like anyone else.
Shame because, as a noble who had had his lover slain by another, he would be well within his rights to challenge her killer for vengeance – but he knew he would never take advantage of such. After all, he was a coward. Indeed, had the demon hunter challenged him, he would have declined, and accepted the dishonor, after seeing what the demon hunter had done to Montmorency, for he knew if he chose to fight there would be no mercy.
Nausea and guilt because Guiche knew that this was his fault, since what provoked the duel in the first place was Montmorency's belief that Zero's familiar had stolen her perfume, when instead, he had given it to the familiar to keep others from finding out about his philandering ways. As a playboy involved in multiple affairs at once, he'd deemed it essential that no one uncover any physical evidence of his involvement with any one person. He was charming enough to talk his way out of less than concrete accusation, playing on the trust and feelings of the girls who so admired him - but even that trust would crumble if pressed enough. Thus, he had found a convenient way of disposing of the perfume which tied him to Montmorency while building his Casanova reputation by honoring Zero and her familiar with the perfume, knowing full well that if they were discovered with it, no one would ever think that he gave it to them.
He had even stayed silent when Montmorency confronted the familiar, not correcting her assertion that Mana must have stolen it – and like most, had been amused when the familiar had recklessly issued the water mage a challenge, since he - like everyone else except the familiar - had known that a commoner could not win against a noble. That was a lesson - perhaps the lesson - taught to all children since the time they could walk – the lesson of how Founder Brimir had created elemental magic and then set those who could use it above those who could not.
But then the unthinkable had happened and everything he knew to be true had been thrown into question, as Montmorency had been killed.
No.
Guiche couldn't believe it at first. He kept expecting Montmorency to just get up, with the familiar having enough humanity in her to offer mercy to someone she had defeated, someone who was helpless and begging for her life. But as precious seconds passed, he had felt a shiver of dread as nothing happened.
Montmorency hadn't gotten up.
No.
He'd thought then that maybe she had just passed out from fear, or maybe Zero's familiar had just left her barely alive, right? In the case of the latter, surely someone would help her, right? Someone would at least try to save her? But there was no one - and any healer would have been too late, for she was already dead.
No.
"…who are you?" he remembered a voice asking, only vaguely aware that it was his own. "No…what are you?"
And then the familiar's lips twisted into something that was only technically a smile, reminding him that when any other animal showed its teeth, it was usually meant as a threat.
Paralyzed, he couldn't move as she blurred into motion, knocking him over, the knife slashing out to—
"AHHHHHH!"
Guiche awakened with a bloodcurdling shriek, hands immediately reaching for his neck to make sure his head had not filed for divorce from his body, breath coming in ragged pants as he fought off a wave of unbridled terror, his body shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Demon Hunter.
It wasn't possible. Demon Hunters weren't real. They couldn't be. Sure there were old legends about them, stories used to scare noble children into behaving, but there just couldn't be any truth to them. It couldn't be true that if a child didn't listen, if a child acted like a monster…then they would be killed like one, by evil-shaped foes whose very presence brought a shadow to the world.
For just as mages defied common sense and their abilities elevated them above powerless commoners, demon hunters were death to the supernatural, or so the legends went.
But they didn't really exist…
…right?
…right?
'Wrong. Dead wrong.'
It was once said that mankind feared the darkness and so lit fires to keep it at bay, and the statement held a great deal of truth in any world, largely because darkness signified the unknown, and nearly all human fears could be traced back to fear of that unknown. This was as true in ancient times as it was today, though most of the dangers one had to contend with in the now posed far less risk of physical harm than those of the past, when much of nature had been beyond human understanding, and instead night was feared as the hour when one's inner demons came to the surface.
During the day, that fleeting span of hours when the sun loomed high in the sky above, humans tended to keep busy in one occupation or another, exhausting themselves so that they would not have to be awake long into the night, left alone with their thoughts. They dared not keep their hands or feet idle, lest they be forced to confront unpleasant realities or brood about past failings, and so shunted these concerns aside to deal with the current situation, with the now, rather than the later, and when that wasn't possible, sought the cold comfort of what dreams might come when one shuffles off the coil of consciousness.
So it was for most at the Tristain Academy of Magic, though not for a silent figure kneeling by a fountain in the corner of the courtyard, head bowed, eyes closed as if in deep thought, two pale hands rubbing themselves together in the flow of water issuing from a carved lion's mouth as if to wash them clean.
'I killed someone…' Mana thought to herself, her long black hair rippling slightly as she shook her head, biting her lower lip as she recalled the events of the morning. Being who she was, the demon hunter was prepared to end a life, though even she hadn't thought that things would end up in this manner. 'And worse, I was angry and off-balance enough to let MANA take control…'
In hindsight, it was something that might have been avoided, and the girl knew it, though at the time, caught up in the moment…
"Feh…" she sighed, shaking her head slowly, looking at the reflection of two moons on the water, the ruddier of the two shining down, tinting the clear fluid red. "It's a shame that it all turned out like this, isn't it?"
No one answered because no one was around to listen, exactly as she had wished when the young girl had left the room of her "master", ostensibly for training, with the evidence of that being the shinai at her feet. On seeing her enter the courtyard, those who normally used the hours to woo innocent schoolgirls, to think, or just to make mischief had retreated to safety of their dorms, apparently afraid that if Mana came across them and took offense to their presence, they would die as certainly and messily as Montmorency had. It was almost as if they thought she was some kind of predator who derived joy and pleasure from death – and they'd be half right, since Mana wasn't the sort to do so…but MANA was.
One usually considered the term "inner demon" to be a figurative thing, but it wasn't so in the case of the Ryougi clan, given that within each of them was a second personality, one trained in the art of killing, a combat mindset that one could switch to if necessary. Normally, this second personality was kept in check by the primary, with both experiencing the same things, interpreting them, and keeping each other balanced, but the shock of being summoned to a new world, on top of everything else, had thrown the balance off kilter.
After discovering that she was to serve as a mage's familiar (which she found quite unusual, given how rare it was for humans to be made familiars due to a number of issues), the Ryougi heiress had been doing her best to adapt, exploring the boundaries of her role and trying to gather information as best she could. The knowledge that her mother had been sent to other worlds in the past, including the otherworldly .PH, and had come back unscathed, helped her to deal with anxiety as she interacted with others, observed others as they went about their tasks, and even helped out a little bit, in order to repay a favor.
She hadn't expected someone to just walk up to her, jerk her to her feet, slap her around and offer her much abuse. No one would have dared to do such a thing in the world she came from, where it was usually considered polite to at least give people the benefit of the doubt, especially when there was no evidence to the contrary…especially when it involved the daughter of a terrifying mob boss. Mana had simply been sitting on the steps of the Alviss Dining Hall, reading her book and waiting for Miss Vallière to show up when she had suddenly been attacked by a rude blonde. A noble who had not allowed her to defend herself as the other assaulted her, shouting at her, pushing her down, even destroying her favorite book – one of the last things she had from her home world.
This Montmorency had accused her of being a thief, and yet in the process had stolen and destroyed Mana's property, as if the other girl had any right to do such a thing, noble or no.
From her lessons, Mana saw nobility as being very much like the Mob, in how it had started (with a powerful thug or pack of thugs extorting money from defenseless peasants so that they didn't have to toil themselves), how it had evolved into patchworks of territories and hierarchies (to "protect" their interests from those of other "nobles"), and in the importance individuals belonging to the organization placed on personal honor.
There was also the minor quibble that as the daughter of the boss of Mifune, someone presuming to just question her integrity like that was something that the Ryougi heiress just wouldn't put up with. Even if she was in a different world where she was a familiar, there were still limits to what one could endure. So, seeing as "nobles" made up a large proportion of society, and that dueling was fairly common in the times when nobles dominated in history, she had inquired if the country allowed duels, and when the other mentioned that it was technically not disallowed between anything other than two nobles currently, she had issued such a challenge.
Then when the other had tried to kill her, the Ryougi's self-preservation instinct had caused MANA to take over for the duration of the encounter. More, the combat personality's already ruthless tendencies had been bolstered by the runes inscribed on her, leading to the death of the other by MANA's hands. Mana would most likely have been satisfied with Montmorency's surrender and the public admission that she had been wrong, but with MANA's influence heightened by the runes on her hand…the surrender was rejected.
Mana had regained control sometime between the duel and her encounter with Miss Vallière, but by then, the killing was a fait accompli, and there was nothing to be done but to project an air of strength—giving the impression that she had known exactly what she was doing when she killed the water mage, not allowing others to witness any regrets she might have, any remorse, any guilt at all.
Not the authorities, who were no doubt on their way to question her, nor Miss Vallière, who needed to know that the one she had summoned was not a simple commoner, nor anyone else who might threaten her. That would be seen as weakness, and in a society where only strength and ability were respected, an admission of weakness could be quite lethal.
As Machiavelli had once written in The Prince, it was "far safer to be feared than loved" if one could not be both – and Mana had no illusions that others would love her for killing one of their own. So instead, she would stay strong, justifying what MANA had done and using it as a tool. She would not bend, she would not bow…
…until she was alone, and no one could see her cry, away from the prying eyes of others.
Quiet footsteps marred the silence of the night as a cloaked figure walked the ramparts of the castle that comprised the Academy, smirking as she ruminated on the cruelty of nobles and the irony of how fearful they could be when someone took away what was precious to them, whether it be their lives, as the self-styled demon hunter Mana Ryougi had done, or their possessions, as the notorious mage thief named Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt was known to do.
A low, throaty chuckle escaped her lips as the woman recalled the uproar left in the wake of her previous burglaries, to her, most nobles were complacent fools who didn't expect anything untoward to happen to them, yet found it fair to deal cruelty onto others, even those who served them.
Fouquet was not blind to their abuses, after all, and even amongst the students of this magical academy of, she could already see their petty natures playing out, one generation after another. Not that she really cared about the pampered youth of Halkeginia when she knew what would happen to them, what their attitudes would be like, how this utterly corrupt society would shape them over time, until they became as vile as those that had preceded them.
Her long green hair swayed in the midnight wind, and she moved along, continuing her surveillance of the school, openly showing the figure that struck fear in all the nobles of Tristain. Not that any knew her as anything other than Miss Longueville, secretary to Old Osmond.
'Nobles…so easy to manipulate once you touch upon their weaknesses,' the mage thief thought to herself, remembering the scene that had played out when she had convinced the headmaster of the Academy to hire her. 'The old man's is lechery, specifically, caressing the bodies of young women. Learning this, I became a waitress in a tavern he frequented and simply waited for him to approach like a spider luring a fly. A little wine, a little touching, a little flattery, and as he hired me as his secretary, giving me a wonderful cover identity.'
It was hardly the first time that she had infiltrated a place, since she had stolen from the national bank, the treasure vaults of powerful nobles, powerful businesses and other such that believed that they were invulnerable either due to heavy security or simply the fact that no one had broken in before. One of her few pleasures in life was proving them wrong, either by sneaking in and using alchemy to turn walls into the "crumbling dirt" from which she received her runic name, or simply using brute force to break in, with a giant golem smashing aside mage guards and shattering castle walls, letting her seize her prizes in broad daylight – usually treasures and artifacts of great magical power.
'Fools really…they don't expect to be attacked, and so they leave themselves vulnerable. Thinking that they have any right at all to cling to their possessions, when it is people like them who everything away from me…'
A decade ago, even five years ago, she would not have believed as she did, but things had been far different then, when she had gone by a different name and life was happier. As Mathilda of Saxe-Gotha, the daughter of a duke loyally serving the Archduke of Albion, the brother of the King and the royal treasurer, life had been pleasant enough for her until the day the King turned on the Archduke, sending the royal army to annex his lands and kill everyone within.
Her family had mobilized its forces to resist the invasion, each of the archduchy's soldiers fighting with desperation against the royalists, but it had been no use, as the King of Albion's army had simply rolled over them, crushing the defenders and proceeding to kill off every man, woman and child they could find, indulging themselves in excesses of butchery, rapine, and rape.
If she closed her eyes, Fouquet could still remember the screams, could still smell smoke and fear on the wind as the savages had their way. Fortunes that had taken lifetimes to accrue were carried off, homes and villages put to the torch, and women—even young girls no older than 8, were raped to death in the streets by the so-called "noble" soldiers, who took pleasure in destroying the lives that so many had labored to build up, the lives of those who had just wanted to be left alone.
Her father and the Archduke had both been more than fair to those within their territories, respecting the laws equally for noble and commoner—and then the King's army had destroyed everything. Anyone who had not been able to hide died that day – and some of those who hid were discovered by soldiers looking for a bit of fun, and suffered even worse fates, humiliated and used as playthings over and over and over again until they collapsed from exhaustion…
And then they too were killed.
Hundreds died, with some decapitated, some pierced through the gut, some burned to death, some buried alive, some impaled with great prejudice as they sought only to survive. And to survive, she had had to kill as well, using her golems to smash men to a plup, using alchemy to turn their clothes to oil - and then burn them alive, or in one case, choke the life out of her father's killer with her bare hands.
In the end, she escaped with her life as a few others did, fleeing with some of the other orphans of Saxe-Gotha into the woods, where the royal army dared not follow, because they were at a disadvantage when their enemy could lay traps. Instead, the army took possession of everything else that remained – including her family's estate, wealth, and title, with the King charging her family with treason ex post facto to justify murdering them in cold blood.
Generations of faithful service to the royal family had been repaid by betrayal.
That day, Mathilda had died in everything but name, her former self left behind. She was no longer a noble, no longer a loyal servitor of the Crown, but a free agent, one who swore take her revenge in another way, by stealing away what the hateful, corrupt nobles valued most.
Still, she wasn't completely heartless, as the money from her thefts funded the operation of the village of Westwood, an orphanage set up in those woods where she and the other survivors had hidden, a small village for those who had lost their families in war, watched over by the bastard half-elf child of the Grand Duke and his mistress, a young one who also lost her family on that day. A child who saw the mage-thief as an older sister, while she in her turn saw the half-elf as a daughter.
'And every time I think of them, I am reminded of how cruel nobles can be…and why I would like nothing more than to see the downfall of the monarchies of Halkeginia…'
In her opinion, the heiress of the de Montmorencys, a vain and spiteful young noble, had gotten exactly what she deserved at the hands of the alleged demon hunter. Frankly, the girl who killed her was far more interesting to Fouquet, since it was unheard of for a human to be summoned as a familiar.
'Black hair and strange features…she's not from this land, is she?'
That was why Fouquet, as Miss Longueville, had volunteered to take watch tonight – something that Mr. Colbert appreciated a great deal…though not yet enough to tell her the secret of the treasure vault's defenses. The thief wanted to know more about this girl who had not only killed a noble, but had done so in such a way that had left the rest of the students in fear of their lives.
And yet, from looking at this Mana Ryougi, all Fouquet could see was a little girl kneeling by the edge of a fountain, listless, quiet, shaking her head and she rubbing her hands under the water. The demon hunter really didn't seem to be the murderous sort, and really, reminded her of…well, her, the first time she had killed someone.
"Well, I suppose a closer look couldn't hurt..."
Mana stiffened in place as an indiscernible something hummed in the air, with the Ryougi heiress rising to her feet and turning about to see a black-robed figure float down from the rampart to touch down on the ground nearby—a woman in her early to mid-twenties from the look of it, with long green hair fluttering in the wind and amber eyes that caught the light of the moon. With a glance she could tell that this woman was dangerous, as she gave off an air similar to that of the Ryougi heiress' "Aunt Fujino" (at least her "aunt" in that that she was Azaka's companion), an air of sharp elegance masking a restrained power, all mixed with the scent of rain on dry earth.
"Ah, stand down, child," the mysterious woman greeted in a rich velvety voice, her wand by her side. "Were I your enemy, you would already be dead."
"Somehow I doubt that," Mana stated baldly, calculating how quickly she could close the distance between them if necessary. Forty paces…only a second or two with the enhancement of the runes. "I am not as helpless as you might believe."
"Heh, how very serious you are," the mysterious woman greeted in a rich velvety voice, an odd expression on her face that could best be described as mingled amusement and curiosity. "So you are the demon hunter that has frightened so many…a rather small girl for such a large uproar…"
"You have me at a disadvantage, it seems," the Ryougi said evenly, meeting the other's gaze, her body tensing subtly just in case action was required. "Though you don't seem like a student."
A chuckle as the woman eyed the demon hunter, and then sheathed her wand, showing her empty hands.
"I suppose that is a polite way of noting my age," Fouquet said nonchalantly, looking between the fountain and the young girl as she took a step forward. "But you are correct – I'm not a student. What's more, even though I'm a magician, I'm not a noble."
"Oh?" Mana asked, curious, not quite letting down her guard, and not stepping back, either. "Then what are you?"
"Hm…a wary one, I like that," Fouquet noted, seemingly pleased. "As for me, child, I am but a wanderer. A long time ago, I lost my place to return to."
"I see," Mana said after a moment, nodding. Then her eyes narrowed as she looked at this other woman. "And what is your interest in me?"
The woman chuckled softly, a serene smile stealing its way across her lips.
"Such a curious child – you've been trained in how to fight, haven't you?" Fouquet voiced off-handedly, though her voice grew more somber a moment later. "Tell me then, are you really a demon hunter?"
"What of it?" Mana asked simply.
"Then this was your first time taking a human life, wasn't it?"
The Ryougi's eyes widened momentarily at this question that cut to the quick, a fleeting tell, but enough of one for the mage-thief to confirm the truth of her words.
"Don't be surprised, dear child," the other said in somewhat more sympathetic tones. "I know the signs, as I what I looked like after my first time, when I too had to defend myself from terrible foes, long before I started down this path."
"Oh? And what path might that be?" Mana inquired, wondering why this mage was here at all, though Fouquet didn't answer immediately, instead looking up at the moon. "A thief in the night?"
'Heh…she's a little too perceptive for her own good…'
The green-haired mage's laughter was full of genuine mirth this time, as she hadn't expected to be called out on her occupation. Even so…
"The path of a traveler doing odd jobs, earning money to support a village of orphans," the other spoke, bowing slightly to the younger girl. "But then, I am hardly the only one a long way from home, am I, dear demon hunter? The name is Mathilda. Mathilda of Saxe-Gotha."
It was the name of a life she no longer used, but it was still her name, nonetheless.
In response, Mana stepped forward and curtsied elegantly.
"Mine is Mana. Mana Ryougi, ma'am," the demon hunter replied, though her lips took on a more crooked smile. "And while you may be right, you never did say what your interest in me was."
The wind blew about the two, rustling their dark garments as they stood under twin moons.
"You remind me of someone, that's all," the self-named Mathilda said, gesturing to the bench by the fountain. "May I join you then, Miss Ryougi?"
"I suppose I can't stop you if you wish," the Ryougi stated simply, turning to pick up her shinai and lean it against the wall. "But I will ask why."
A sigh.
"…I simply thought that two travelers in a strange land might have a talk away from prying eyes," Fouquet voiced simply, half-shrugging. "I admit I am curious about you, as you are probably curious about this land, are you not? And no one should have to sit at a fountain, washing away their guilt alone…such sorrows are best shared."
Mana raised an eyebrow, as…
Another chuckle.
"No need to worry – no one else will ever hear of this – my word on it," Mathilda promised, "Certainly not from me, and not from any other, if I can help it."
Slowly, in a non-threatening fashion, she touched her wand and cast a spell of silence around the area to prevent eavesdroppers from hearing anything.
"…I suppose can agree to that much," Mana whispered, a brittle smile gracing her features for just a moment at the kind and generous offer. She couldn't quite understand why, but she supposed she could work it out eventually. "…and thank you."
High above, in the cold night air, a rhyme dragon and its rider flew, surveying the world below.
As had been the case on the night after summoning her familiar, Louise de La Vallière found herself one more unable to fall asleep, just as confused as before about what she'd gotten herself into by summoning a familiar like this – only this time, she wasn't worried about being disowned by her family, regarded as a failure by her peers, or the fact that her familiar seemed to understand magecraft as well as she.
In the very beginning, when she had called forth this strange commoner from a distant land, the pinkette had despaired, believing that yet another of her spells had gone awry, resulting in her snatching up a child of all things – a human child without any ability to use magic at all. Seeing this, her classmates had laughed uproariously, jeered, insulted her – and Mr. Colbert had done nothing to stop them at first, only intervening when Louise replied to the verbal abuse with some of harsh words of her own.
Louise wasn't sure if the teachers were aware of how they acted, but in only saying that nobles should be better mannered towards one another after she tried to defend herself, they were essentially giving the others carte blanche to push her around, restricting even her right to defend herself from her classmates' slanders and accusations, forcing her to endure their taunts, their abuses, their laughter every moment she was awake, as her classmates walked by, giving her derisive looks, taking every opportunity to put her down for their own amusement.
'Well…they most certainly aren't laughing now, are they?' a dark part of her mind gloated, recalling how all of those who had come across her after the incident went out of their way to avoid her, apparently fearing that if the 'Zero' took offense, she would sic her familiar on them, cackling with dark delight as her enemies were cut down one after another, and blood ran in rivers, until the third daughter of the Vallière family stood atop a mountain of corpses, looking down at the world that had mocked her for so long, laughing all the while.
Louise quickly quashed that line of thought before it could bear too much fruit, given that in truth, she didn't want to kill her classmates. While it was true that she hadn't much liked Montmorency, and had in her darker moments, wished that the annoying blond would die a horrible death, she had never expected that it would actually happen, much less by a commoner's hand.
Not that her familiar acted anything like a commoner should, much less a servant summoned by a sacred rite. Commoners obeyed the whims of nobles because they were afraid of the magic even a noble child could wield. Their only possible defense against this fearsome power was to keep their heads down and not draw attention to themselves, for most nobles did not deign the lower born worthy of their notice. Familiars as well were supposed to be obedient, with only limited amounts of free will allowed to them—though Louise grudgingly admitted that since no one had ever summoned a human as a familiar, it was impossible know exactly what to expect.
Dragons, griffins, and manticores all had acted with much more autonomy than frogs or cats or moles after all, but where did a human lie on that scale? A commoner who refused to be cowed by a noble, whose actions and attitude demanded respect on her own terms was unheard of. In that regard, this commoner was unlike any other she knew, for where others feared the magic that nobles could command, Mana had simply faced down her attacker without fear – and then had proved this to be more than just bravado when she simply forced her opponent to beg for her life much as Louise imagined that a commoner might when confronted by a noble's wrath, before striking her down without a trace of remorse.
Small wonder, then, that most of the student population was now quite terrified of Louise, or more accurately, of her familiar, an existence that, not fitting into the standard framework, they could not comprehend or reason with.
After all, no one could reason with death.
The pinkette shivered, pulling her sheets into a protective cocoon around her to ward off a sudden chill as she remembered how her familiar had spoken of the deed with great ease, casually rebuffing Louise's attempts to retake control of the situation, much less Headmaster Osmond's, explaining exactly why she had chosen to kill her enemy rather than accepting her surrender. Because it was quickly apparent that in Mana's eyes, Montmorency had not been a helpless girl, but an enemy that had shown herself capable of striking a killing blow—and thus she had been killed, decisively ending any present or future threat from the blonde.
Having had some time to think Louise thought understood why Montmorency had acted as she did, given that the blonde had already been highly agitated from Mana's attempts to defend herself verbally even before the familiar had thrown down the gauntlet, offering a challenge that Montmorency could not refuse without the stain of cowardice and dishonor, even if she thought of dueling as a barbaric custom. The water mage had not had a choice in the matter, as by custom, to refuse a duel meant offering a public apology and admitting that she had been wrong. Her pride and vanity had not allowed it, as it would have led to her losing a great deal of the student body's respect. And then on top of everything else, when Mana had revealed that she was armed, daring to bring a weapon into a noble's presence with the intention of using it - that had been the last straw for Montmorency, who had lashed out with a killing blow in a moment of anger.
Alas, when the initial exchange was finished, it was not Louise's familiar, but the water mage who was laid low and then executed – something frowned on in this day and age, but still legally acceptable for a duelist, as those who entered duels tacitly agreed to risk the loss to life and limb. Legally, there was no fault with her familiar's actions, as ruthless as they were.
Louise had the quite cynical thought that this was why the Academy had chosen not to get involved beyond gather information and issuing reports to the appropriate parties, since when there wasn't someone clearly in the wrong from a legal point of view, it was generally wise for a party as neutral to noble politics as the Academy claimed to be to stay out of politically delicate situations.
And a delicate one it was, given that in Mana's role as a familiar, longstanding tradition regarded the younger girl as an extension of Louise in the eyes of the law. As such, since Montmorency had been the sole heiress to the de Montmorency family, this was a conflict that could well pit the Vallière family - one of the wealthiest and most influential families in all of Tristain – against the de Montmorencys, a noble house that had fallen from its peak of glory, a family whose financial and political failings has lost it most of the influence it had held – including the sole right to negotiate with the Water Spirit of Ragdorian Lake, that which had first given it power, as controlling access to a rare resource generally did.
Simply put, it wasn't a clear cut case at all, and what happened later would depend on what both families – and the palace—chose to do…a prospect that made Louise curl up in fear, as she didn't know how her mother was going to react to all this.
Even so…
'…a demon hunter?'
Louise wondered now how and why such a being had appeared in her summoning circle, seemed like a sweet and innocent child until she demonstrated the utter ruthlessness that her kind was remembered for in legends and whispers still passed down to this day. These were legends of beings more terrifying any magical beasts that existed today, even dragons, griffins, or manticores, because those were the least of what demon hunters had fought in times long forgotten.
Frankly, the fact that she had summoned someone like this was...impossible.
It was ludicrous, as ludicrous as if she'd managed to summon an elf, one of those who commanded Ancient Magic of power and divine mystery far exceeding the more recent Elemental Magics used by nobles. For an idea of how ludicrous this was, common Halkeginian military doctrine regarding elves was rather simple: if one was in command of an army of a hundred nobles or more and had evidence that one might be facing even a single elf, there were standing orders in place that called for immediate withdrawal, as to do otherwise was to risk the utter destruction of one's command.
For her, a 'Zero', to have been able to bring forth such a being was as far beyond the bounds of possibility as she could imagine. Someone with no magical talent, who in a society that valued strength might as well have been a powerless corpse pretending to be alive just couldn't have accomplished something on that scale, something that not even her rival Kirche, a fearsome Triangle-class mage, had not been able to do.
She was not strong. She knew that because everyone told her so – from the weakest dot-mage at the Academy to her own mother, who sometimes looked at her as if she were trash playing at being a noble. She knew it because she had lived and breathed as a failure every day of her life for the last ten years.
Yet she had done the impossible, and by sacred tradition, a familiar reflected the affinity and ability of the mage who summoned it, which amidst all the violence and shock gave her an irrational glimmer of hope.
Louise gritted her teeth, knowing that as a Vallière, she was made of sterner stuff than this. For her to be scared of her familiar…well, there was some justification for it, but what kind of mage would she be if she couldn't face down these fears?
She would talk to her familia—to Mana tomorrow, and find out more about the girl, seeing as they hadn't gotten off to the best start. And maybe—just maybe, she would be able to get some answers before she had to face her family.
In the end, just before she drifted off, a tiny smile curved its way across her lips.
'Maybe I'm not just a "Zero" after all…'
