"I must be off," the First Knight of Fianna was visibly shaken, immediately looking away from her.
"No," Jeanne took a hold of the man's arm, muscles tense under her touch, "Answer me first, I need to know."
He shook his head, "Honestly, milady, it is not an important matter right now. I must be off to the high school."
Her grip tightened a bit more, holding him steady in his place. It was a good thing he was not the kind to shake off her grip harshly, "Yes, it is. Of course, it is." She pulled him back towards herself before he could step away any further, "How would that not be important? You know who I am. Who I really am…" Her eyebrows furrowed, "How?"
His free hand took a hold of her wrist and he gently squeezed it, "I have to go, Pucelle."
"If you know me, we have to go to Marie and she can work the whole crystal—"
"No!" He gasped, his voice becoming a soft but steady hush, "No, no, no. You can't go. They can't do this to me again."
Jeanne took her own step back, "Wait, what do you mean?" She felt her heart suddenly jump in her chest. There was a pained look in his amber eyes, something scared him; what ever the crystal had to offer.
His head whipped from side to side, searching for something—or rather making sure no one was listening, "It's happened to me before, I know it."
"B-but how? They would have erased all your knowledge… right?" He wasn't himself, not the way she knew him to be. 'Love Spot' was not acting like the cool, composed young man she thought him to be, but rather a hardened and frightened warrior—aged by experience.
His eyes bore into hers, staring her down. She felt small in his gaze, not just physically shorter but inexperienced, "I… I'll explain when we return. We have to hurry to the high school."
She had already loosened her grip on him, letting his arm slip from her hold as he turned towards the exit. It took her a while to snap back to her senses and follow him out the door and to her high school.
They had made it there in seconds with something he had called 'materialization'. Since she had yet to master this technique, he had wrapped an arm around her waist and done the whole 'dematerialization' from the lobby of the Agency.
When they reappeared on the sport's field of the school, she felt her weight had lightened. Her fingers tingled as if being poked with thousands of needles and her vision was slightly blurry. It was an odd and foreign sensation, it caused her much uneasiness.
His armour made little to no sound as they strode through the field, a flickering street light behind them lighting their path. Their shadows were long and dark just as they arrived at the foot of the school's stairs. The male lifted his arm and contacted his partner through the watch, and they were soon led to the second floor of the school and down a moonlit hall.
The school was oddly silent. Their footsteps being the only sign of life for meters to come.
"There you are!" A deep voice called through the hall, the Knight jumping at the sound and nearly screaming.
"You almost gave me a heart attack!" the dark-haired man groaned as he turned back to meet his partner.
Jeanne turned around, her eyes had already settled in the darkness. She noticed a man appear from the vast darkness of one of the stair cases; a tall buff man. His hair looked deep red in the darkness as did his attire. He wore a fur-lined cape—uncharacteristic to any other H.G.A hero, but it suited him well. He was a sturdy man, and he did look quite a few years older than any of the heroes she had seen so far.
"Did you meet someone?" The Irishman had finally calmed down and managed to speak.
"Chains… I only hear chains."
"Chains? Is this school haunted?" He tilted his head, approaching the man in red, lance tight in his hands.
A hearty laugh from the bulky man, "Ha! Are you scared of ghosts there, love spot?"
The Knight frowned, "Why yes, I am not fond of finding myself amidst a demonic being, thank you very much."
Jeanne cracked a small smile, "Really? You shouldn't be scared. Mother taught me that a simple prayer dispels them. A Saint Benedict prayer, to be exact."
"Does that really work?" He asked, honey eyes curious.
The female nodded, "For sure, it always works for me," she smiled, "Here." She pulled a pendant from beneath her shirt. It was a cross of the crucified Jesus with a specific pattern, "This is a Benedict Cross. It's essential against demons and evil spirits." She then got up on her tiptoes, and slowly placed it over his head and around his neck, "Here, take it."
He furrowed his brows and looked down at it, taking it between his fingers, "Thank you…" he mumbled.
"You need not worry of ghosts… people are more frightening." Jeanne hushed over, the darkness engulfing them as a cloud covered the moon.
The Knight of Fianna's partner nodded, clearing his throat, "The young girl is right, Love Spot, people have more evil in their veins."
"I wouldn't say that… I would rather say that people have a possibility of physically hurting you if they are blinded by the enemy." Jeanne clarified, "You cannot be safe from them sometimes."
"I agree with Jeha—did you hear that, King of Conquerors?" The First knight immediately shot his head towards the end of the hallway.
"What?" The redhead scoffed, "What did you hear this time, squirt?"
"Chains." Both Jeanne and Diarmuid replied, eyes wide.
Jeanne stepped forwards and towards the deep hallow darkness. Everyone was on alert, and just as they had suddenly heard the chains moving, they stopped. The Frenchwoman frowned, leaning her ear towards the origin of the sounds…but nothing came this time around.
"It stopped." She informed the others who were quite aware of the situation.
"How did we get called here, again?" The Knight mumbled, fearing someone listening in on their conversation.
"Pink lights were coming from this building… It seems to have a high amount of mana emitting from it too. Waver said to be careful as animals were thought to go missing every now and again." The King of Conquerors spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and not being subtle whatsoever.
Jeanne took another step forwards, her grip on the staff tightening, "The school usually does not feel this uneasy…" she mumbled.
From the black void, she watched as something shiny shot towards her at lightening speed. She nearly dodged, but was unlucky when she felt the freezing grip of metal on her right ankle. She only had time to gasp before the chains pulled her feet from under her, dragging her down against the cold and hard floor.
She screamed as the chains dragged her rapidly into the darkness. She never let go of the staff as she clawed at the floor in hopes of grabbing something.
"Pucelle!" She heard the handsome man scream and watched as he reached out towards her before she was dragged into as classroom.
She hung upside down, a groan escaping her lips as she could hear pounding on the door. She twirled a few times until she saw a woman in front of her, black thigh highs covering most of her legs. Her pale skin was exposed around her thighs, a black dress tightly fitting her. Pale pink hair hung straight to her feet, "Pucelle?" Her voice came as a shock to Jeanne—she sounded sweet.
A man stepped into the moonlight to reveal himself; blue tousled hair, "Medusa, this is it, she's the one we need."
The knocking became harder and Jeanne could tell that the room had a magical barrier that did not allow the two males to break the wooden door down.
The woman wore a mask over her eyes, hiding her true intentions from Jeanne's sight.
"Make me strong, please," She mumbled down at the banner, "please." She was tired of being weak, of not making something of herself.
The moonlight was outshined by a warm light emitting from the banner and Jeanne was blinded for a second. When her eyes adjusted again, she felt the heaviness of her armour. She was dropped to the floor in the whole ordeal and she transformed into her outfit.
Somehow, unbeknownst to her, she had stood up, drawing her Holy Sword from its scabbard, "What do you want?"
The blue haired man seemed to have been scared, his body language telling her he truly was afraid.
Medusa took a stance of attack right as Jeanne's banner stretched and became the glorious and intricate banner it should be.
Jeanne was not accustomed to holding something as heavy as a sword in one hand, and it even pulled her shoulder down. Yet, she had an inkling to stomp the floor with the end of the banner. She did so twice—the magical barrier dissolving with this action and the males being able to barge in.
Medusa relaxed, withdrawing her chains upon the realization that she was outflanked. She turned her head towards Waver's team, looking over her pale shoulder.
The man she was with was now rambling on about retreat and how useless she was. Medusa did not seem phased by the words that were thrown at her from the young man, instead, she dematerialized from in front of them and appeared next to the man. Without another single second slipping by, they jumped out the window.
"What was that?" Jeanne huffed as she ran towards the window, "Who were they?"
"Are you alright?" Love Spot asked her, looking her over in a new outfit, "You activated it!"
"Deactivating it is the real problem, though…" She mumbled after they noted that the pair had disappeared into the night.
"We should search the school."
"Will you tell me now? What did you mean by again?" Jeanne was not letting the fact that he knew her identity slip.
They had already arrived back at the agency, they had found some mana capturing circles and destroyed them, a trace of jewels was collected and submitted to the masters as soon as they arrived; a report written as protocol.
"There is something odd." He stated once they had made it to the corner of the training grounds that he had deemed to be safe of onlookers and eavesdroppers, "I have these dreams."
"Dreams?" Jeanne tilted her head, furrowing her brows as they sat down on the floor.
The man that is clad in green huffed, "I am dying. There is a hole in my chest and the King of Knights is holding me."
The blonde crossed her arms over her chest, "That's called a nightmare, sweetie."
The Knight rolled his eyes, "No. It's a memory."
"Why do you say so?"
"I have the scar to prove it. Look, you're the only one that I've told. I haven't even told the Hound… They all know." The look in his eyes was different, he seemed afraid and betrayed, "My dream—memory—it contains snip-its. And the King of Knights just holds me as she cries… I… I don't understand."
"The King of Knights?"
He nodded, "Yes, she holds me. There's blood on her face and she asks me to keep my eyes open. There are times, when we pass each other by—not in my dreams; she seems sad."
Jeanne leaned forwards, her face resting on her hands, "In reality?"
"We spar sometimes, and there's this look in her eyes that tells me she's expecting something from me…something I don't remember." He mumbled, "I have this feeling that we knew each other, more than we know—I know her now. Her eyes…they tell me there's something I don't know."