Chapter 34

Prescient

( HAPPY NEW YEAR! Spoiler Warning! If you haven't read 'Noblesse-Rai's Adventure', you may not want to read the second part of the chapter. Also, Raizel gets a sugar high. This chapter hasn't been beta'd and didn't even get half the edits I normally do because I wanted to get this out on New Year's Day. I hope the quality hasn't been affected too much. One more thing, we are getting close to the contract! I haven't decided whether or not to add a typical Noblesse funny crack part to it, though I know what I'd do for it. There are so many romantic contracts, I'm not sure I want to add another. It just seems overdone. Even if I did add a funny, there will have to be some intense attraction. The effects of the contract will have to lead to romance though. I just don't want to do a contract and immediate sex. Those two would be too awkward for that. If you intend to review, please let me know what you think about the contract and whether or not the chapter should have been held back for more edits.)

"Lord, why didn't you wait for Frankenstein to clean up this mess?" Gejutel asked, glaring at the perfectly repaired audience hall.

The Lord flapped his hand and tutted. It had only taken a few moments and a miniscule amount of power to reverse the damage. "He won't be coming."

"What?! Why do you say that?" the stodgy old clan leader asked, his face turning red at the thought of a human, especially Frankenstein, ignoring the Lord's orders.

"Didn't you notice Raizel's annoyance?"

Gejutel's expression went from angry to disgusted. "I'd be annoyed, too, if it were my child wreaking such havoc!"

"Oh no," the Lord said with a wide grin and waggled a finger at the clan leader. "Raizel is annoyed with me, not Frankenstein."

Gejutel's eyebrows furrowed further. "Why?"

The Lord's grin became downright wicked. "He's with Frankenstein on this matter. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Neither clan leader had an answer for the Lord, so he continued. "They have chosen!" The Lord emphasized his words by sweeping his arms wide and throwing his head back. "It will take only one significant event, just one, for them to realize that they should make a contract! Those two are so clueless!"

"Have you considered Frankenstein's personality? He has been with Sir Cadis Etrama Di Raizel all this time and still refuses the notion of a contract because he wants everyone to know that humans are not weak. If he were to make a contract, he couldn't make that claim with his so much pride and vehemence," Gejutel explained, trying to reason with the Lord and save himself some unnecessary trouble.

"But Gejutel, you saw what that peacock did!" the Lord exclaimed.

Gejutel took a deep breath. "Frankenstein always enjoys destroying things."

"That may be true, but what was his excuse? Hmm? Hmmm?"

"He took exception to your letter," Gejutel huffed, cocked his head to the side, and stared at the Lord as though he were a child.

"Not the entire letter. There were two parts that he pointed out before challenging me," the Lord reminded him.

"Ah," Ragar finally spoke and nodded. "He took issue your attempts to find The Noblesse a companion."

"Exactly!" the Lord practically shouted and stood. "HE wants to be Raizel's ONLY companion!" the Lord continued, waving his arms and pacing in front of the throne. "So! In preparation for the contract, Frankenstein needs to become stronger and gain better control of his powers and weapon. We want him to be able to defend himself and Raizel as much as possible. That boy needs all the help he can get! We can't have him using his power if he doesn't have to. I want you two to see to it that he has plenty of opportunities to spar. Keep him busy! But, don't let that interfere with our experiment on your soul weapon, Ragar!"

"My Lord?" Ragar cut in, which was rare.

"Yes?" the Lord replied and spun around to face Ragar.

"One of Frankenstein's main weapons is his ability to put the enemy off guard through creative insults. It is his style."

"I know!" the Lord said, grinning like a maniac. "He's such a man! And you're going to learn from him! Of course, maybe you're too old to emulate him or you would have already. But! The trainees may be young enough to pick it up."

"As you wish, my Lord. You are most wise," Ragar said, but his gaze was distant. Frankenstein could be so crass and vulgar. Ragar couldn't imagine such language spilling from the mouth of a noble, much less himself. Unfortunately, he was tasked to accomplish just that, so he would give it his utmost effort.

Gejutel sighed. The Lord was about to vibrate out of his skin. More work and more putting up with obstinate children. Frankenstein might be physically mature, but his behavior reminded Gejutel of a child on the verge of adulthood, too old to play and too young to value polite etiquette.

"What about your plans for Raskreia?" Gejutel asked. "If Frankenstein is so possessive of Sir Cadis Etrama Di Raizel, how will she come between them?"

"I'm not worried about that right now. There is time to work out the details. My main concern with my daughter is making certain she can be happy in the future. If that does not involve Raizel, then so be it. I just don't want her to be Lord. You should allow me my dreams, Gejutel! Now, go and carry out my wishes." The Lord flapped his hands at the two clan leaders.

"Yes, my Lord," Gejutel and Ragar said in unison, both bowing and rushing from the throne room with all the elegance they could muster.

Once outside, Gejutel began to grumble. "I can't believe I'm going to be spending valuable time sparing with that...that unruly, disrespectful, vulgar child!"

Ragar glanced at Gejutel, but that was all. The Lord would have had his reasons for getting the head of the Landegre clan outside and training. Perhaps the Lord saw turmoil in the future that would require Gejutel to be at the top of his game, especially if there were more humans like Frankenstein. And then there was Sir Raizel who had such a pure soul that his decisions were never questioned. He must have seen something in Frankenstein that Gejutel couldn't.

"And that weapon of his. Disgusting," Gejutel continued. "I can barely stand to be near it."

"Dark Spear is a corrupt and separate entity that tries to consume Frankenstein. On his own, Frankenstein is powerful and despises those who made it."

"I can't disagree with you there. It's the only reason I tolerate him."

"Hm, I've noticed that the more he uses the weapon in a single spar, the sharper his tongue becomes. Perhaps pain motivates Frankenstein's less savory behavior."

"I hadn't really noticed. Of course, you spar with him much more than I do," Gejutel admitted. "Even so, it doesn't make me any more inclined to spend time with him."

Frankenstein cleared the table and sat out a small dish for dessert. He used silver tongs to fill it with a fruity smelling muffin. It wasn't as sweet as what his Master had eaten earlier, but the butter cream made up for that.

'Master did eat all of his vegetables, so he deserves some reward, especially after giving me his very last sweet bun,' Frankenstein told himself with a soft smile, ignoring the fact that Raizel had eaten almost all of the buns intended for guests. Sir Raizel rarely gifted him with anything, not that he wanted or needed gifts from his Master. A secure home was more than he deserved.

"Master, I should go to the palace and clean up my mess." Not that he wanted to help any of those nobles, but his Master would expect it. In some things, proactively engaging in a distasteful activity made it more palatable. He'd rather not wait until the Lord actually sent for him.

"No." The answer came without Sir Raizel even setting down his tea cup.

'Have I even heard him say 'no' before?'

The cup tinkled as it connected with the saucer. Sir Raizel stared off into the distance for so long Frankenstein wondered if his Master would sit there like that for hours. Time to do something to bring him back to the present.

"Um, why not, if I may ask?"

"The Lord intentionally goaded you. The mess is his responsibility."

With that said, Sir Raizel took his fork and knife and began dividing up the muffin. Frankenstein firmly believed that his Master parted the pieces and spread them specifically for the excuse to use more cream. That also meant that Master had taken upon himself to randomly pour liquid confections for himself. Like now.

Frankenstein half smiled as the pieces were drowned and sweet cream pooled at the bottom of the dish. His Master could be so cute. The painstakingly slow process gave him the opportunity to prepare a new cup of tea.

"Why would he go to all the trouble to do such a thing?" Frankenstein asked, though who knew what that clown of a lord was thinking. Raizel had expressed a specific point of view and the details of his thoughts would be most interesting.

"The Lord can be prescient. Perhaps it was a test," Sir Raizel replied.

That was a shock and Frankenstein stopped stirring the tea. "Prescient?"

Could the lord actually see his affection for his Master? Yes, it bordered on unethical, but he was a proud man and human urges were easily quashed. Besides, someone needed to care about the lonely noble, care enough to actually provide some kind of constant companionship.

Raizel nodded. "He once lied to me and sent me out on an errand. The lie became the truth because of the role I played in subsequent events."

His expression told Frankenstein nothing, but he could hear a strong mixture of emotions deep in the well of Sir Raizel's voice. There was a melancholy component, but excitement at the potential for a story led Frankenstein to actually seat himself beside his Master. If excess sugar turned his Master loquacious, allowances would be made more often. He waited for Raizel to finish a bite followed by a sip of tea. How could any man slide a fork between his lips more elegantly than Master?

"Would you mind telling me about it?"

Raizel nodded again and began. "The Lord sent for me. He said there were rumors about 'Tears of God' giving humans immortality or raising them from the dead. There had been actual eye witnesses, so he wanted me to investigate. That was the lie."

"So there were no 'Tears of God' or no eye witnesses?" Frankenstein asked.

"No witnesses. Perhaps not even the 'Tears of God'."

Frankenstein waited impatiently while his Master tended to dessert. Long, thin fingers delicately held the fork and the small piece of food disappeared behind lips that were too smooth and full. It wasn't fair. Hence why he seldom sat with his Master. Sir Raizel's elegance captured Frankenstein so surely that he almost forgot all about the story. Almost. He blushed at the realization that he'd been staring and turned his gaze to the window.

"So there was nothing to see?" Frankenstein prompted.

"I met a little girl...and there were others. I couldn't understand their language at first. She wanted me to follow them and they took me to a town."

Frankenstein didn't wait this time. "So there was a town, after all. Hm, I assume there was some kind of problem there?"

Raizel nodded, never taking his eyes off of his dish. He slid a piece around in the cream, further coating it. Frankenstein could tell that his Master's thoughts were far from the dessert, so he gave Master time to enjoy more before prompting him again.

"What kind of problem?"

"The leaders were corrupt and sacrificed the villagers' souls to a supposed god in return for immortality."

"Surely, you didn't allow that thing to eat the villagers!?"

Raizel's eyes flashed in reprimand. 'Right, Master would never let that slide. Though I have no idea what he could do about it.'

"The girl...she prayed for someone to save the village. The god was merely a man with a blood stone. I'd never seen anything like it before. It transformed him into a powerful beast as we fought and continued to consume the souls of those present."

The story certainly gave Frankenstein a queasy feeling in his guts. Dark Spear. It devoured souls, too, but he had no idea how to destroy the weapon or how to set free the souls trapped within it. Keeping it out of the hands of others who would abuse it was the only option left to him. Perhaps Sir Raizel could actually destroy Dark Spear. But, what about the souls trapped inside of it? And, why hadn't his Master destroyed him and his weapon already?

"You do not seek power for its own sake."

Frankenstein had long since accepted the fact that Sir Raizel could feel what it was he was thinking. People spoke to communicate. His Master didn't need words. He felt them. Frankenstein only wished he could do the same. It would solve some of the mystery surrounding The Noblesse.

He noticed that Raizel hadn't spoken further. What happened to the villagers? Obviously some had already died.

"Did the little girl live?"

Sir Raizel nodded, but didn't continue. Someone was coming, interrupting Frankenstein's thoughts. He could feel their auras. This was irritating. How was he going to get Sir Raizel to finish the story once his Master went into 'Noblesse' mode. It was the face he always showed to his visitors, a reminder that he would always do his duty above and beyond anything else. Through all of his years living there, he still hadn't discovered why his Master used that mask and clammed up every time a noble came to the house.

Frankenstein stood and looked at Master's place setting. The muffin had been eaten and the tea drank.

'That was fast. He must have felt Ragar's and Gejutel's aura before I did.'

"Would you like another cup of tea?" he asked, but Raizel was already rising from his chair.

Frankenstein whisked the cart from the room and left it in the corridor. He quickly strode to the main entrance to receive the guests. Instead of opening the door right away, he waited for the pair of clan leaders to knock. Of course, they would feel him on the other side.

'Wouldn't want to undo all that difficult training. Seriously, dogs learn faster than nobles,' Frankenstein uncharitably thought. His foot tapped the floor as he waited impatiently. 'I can understand that Master left them to come in on their own. However, letting themselves in after they knew a butler was here to answer the door was just rude.'

A firm fist banged on the door. 'Gejutel. Ragar's knocks are softer.' Frankenstein swiftly yanked the door open, hoping to startle Gejutel. He grinned and put his right hand on his hip, standing in a nonchalant pose. They shouldn't have interrupted him when Master had been so intent on telling a story. Now it might be months or years before he would hear the end of it! They would pay! Well, Gejutel would.

"Yes?" he asked, smirking and blocking the way inside.

"The Lord has sent us. We need to speak with Sir Cadis Etrama Di Raizel," Gejutel grumped, all stately and condescending.

As long as they weren't here to chide him for his previous display, Frankenstein had no problem allowing them inside. Not that he didn't feel some guilt for the fracas. But, if Sir Raizel said that the fault lay with the lord, Frankenstein wasn't going to question his words.

Frankenstein made way for the two, closed the door, then turned and led them to Sir Raizel. The stomping of Gegutel's feet was harder than usual. He was displeased. Good. Frankenstein minutely slowed his steps just to annoy the old clan leader. Ragar's steps were the usual near silence. He had taken his sparring partner's advice to heart. It was good to know the practice carried over into everyday life.

'Ragar is always so quiet and relaxed. Let Gejutel fume. As long as he doesn't upset Master,' Frankenstein thought as he opened the door to Raizel's room.

Usually, it would take quite a bit of verbal prodding before Raizel turned from his window, if he did at all, but Raizel left the window and greeted them as soon as they entered the room. Frankenstein could tell that his Master was displeased, though most anyone else wouldn't notice it beyond the mask of indifference.

"Sir Raizel, the Lord has sent us seeking permission to train regularly with Frankenstein," Gejutel informed the Noblesse while Frankenstein took his place to the right and slightly behind his Master.

Raizel turned to Frankenstein and stared at him in question. So, Master was leaving it up to him.

"Ah, what type of training?" Frankenstein asked.

"Battle training, of course," Gejutel responded.

Frankenstein could see Gejutel's displeasure by the grimace on his face. "I wouldn't know why. We've been sparring long enough that there really isn't anything left to teach you. I continue to spar in order to strengthen my control over Dark Spear."

Gejutel looked constipated now. The Lord had given him a command and he wasn't getting his way. Frankenstein almost smirked, but he needed to behave in a professional manner while in the presence of his employer.

"It's the other clan leaders and their younger generation the Lord is concerned about."

"Has he given me leave to train them?"

"No, not specifically. We are to be trained then take that training to the other clan leaders and children."

Frankenstein hummed and tapped his chin. "That wouldn't work. All of your soul weapons and fighting styles are different. I couldn't possibly hope to contribute without examining everyone myself. Your people are too individualistic to train enmasse," he replied with a smirk.

Access to all of them on the lord's command would greatly help Frankenstein weed out those that had made contracts with humans. Additionally, he could prepare for fighting their specific weapons while only giving them the most rudimentary training they would need to survive. He would love to get his hands on the Central Order. They were a joke, excessively arrogant near cultists who had become corrupt. Well, not all of them.

Gejutel ground his teeth. "Are you saying you would individually train all of the clan leaders and households?"

"Yep!" Frankenstein replied with a wide grin and sideways tip of his head, the epitome of helpful innocence.

Gejutel grunted and Ragar's brows drew down.

"I suppose that is possible," Ragar finally replied. "I would look forward to watching you teach others."

"Ah, which reminds me. You and Gejutel would make great examples. See if the lord will give me your assistance."

"Now see here!" Gejutel nearly shouted. "I have duties at the palace and can't continuously run off for something like this."

"It's not like I would do this every day, either. I, too, have responsibilities," Frankenstein replied and glanced at Raizel. "How about once per ten days. I'm sure the lord could spare you that much. Don't you have someone to take over your duties at times when you are outside of Lukedonia? Besides, you would be excellent examples for trainees. Your soul weapons are polar opposites. Your weapon is designed for long range combat, Gejutel, and Ragar's is suited only for close range. The same training methods for both types would be disastrous!"

Ragar's eyes became distant, not unusual for him. Either he was a deep thinker or deficient somewhere in his brain. Frankenstein was certain it was the former. Gejutel on the other hand, grumbled and shuffled, the flush of his skin fading, but not entirely.

Frankenstein hadn't mentioned that he might need time to recover from Dark Spear because he certainly intended to use the opportunity to spar with both Ragar and Gejutel. Heh. He could hear Gejutel's teeth grinding.

"Sir Raizel, do you consent to Frankenstein's proposal?" Gejutel asked.

Frankenstein smirked, though he really wanted to laugh. This might take awhile. His Master was so set on having as little influence as possible on others that he could hardly make a decision without it taking two hours minimum. And no wonder. Raizel's words weighed as heavy as a mountain and commanded obedience.

The fact that Sir Raizel saved so many words for Frankenstein, inflated his pride, perhaps a bit too much. He glanced at his Master and caught those ruby eyes staring at him. Ah. Frankenstein nodded his consent.

"Yes," Raizel replied.

Ragar dipped his head and turned to leave. "Until we meet again."

"I shall see you tomorrow with an answer from the Lord, Sir Cadis Etrama Di Raizel. It's already late. Thank you for your patience. Until we meet again," Gejutel said. He tipped a bow and turned to follow Ragar.

Frankenstein decided to leave the clan leaders to let themselves out. "Ah, Master. I am so sorry for their intrusion. Would you like more tea."

Raizel shook his head and returned to the window. Declining tea wasn't a good sign. Perhaps if he made another treat, Master would be willing to talk more. Besides, what happened to the town, the little girl, and the person with the blood stone? Sometimes, having something weigh on the mind could be just as unhealthy as sweets. Master needed to talk about it and get whatever sad event he was remembering off his chest.

Decided, Frankenstein headed down to the kitchen, taking the cart he'd left in the corridor. There was always dough in the cold room, so it wouldn't take long. Within thirty minutes he was wheeling the cart laden with hot biscuits sprinkled with spice and glazed with honey. He had warmed creamy goat's milk, thick with honey and extra sweet with sugar. This was turning out to be a terrible day for Raizel's diet, but he couldn't leave his Master feeling so awful.

Frankenstein carefully laid out the setting, taking his time in the hopes that his Master wouldn't need prompting to seat himself. When that didn't happen, he took a small plate of biscuits to the window and slid them in front of his Master. At first, there was no response and then, thankfully, his Master looked down. Frankenstein nearly sighed in relief when the noble turned and took a seat at the table. Frankenstein sat to his right and waited until one biscuit was gone. Raizel immediately took a liking to the warmed milk.

"You might enjoy dipping part of the biscuit in the milk before taking a bite. That's what I would do," Frankenstein instructed.

Raizel glanced at him before delicately lifting one and dunking the entire thing in the milk. When he took it out of the milk, it began crumbling and falling back into the cup.

"Ah, the milk adds weight, so you won't want to dip the whole thing or it breaks apart. I will demonstrate."

Frankenstein got another cup, poured himself some milk, and picked up a biscuit from the cart, then demonstrated by dipping just the piece at the tip of the biscuit. He carefully lifted it to take a nibble. Much too sweet for him, but they were made to Master's taste. He repeated the process. His Master intently watched and followed suit. Elegance personified.

"If there is anything weighing on your mind, I am willing to listen," Frankenstein said between biscuits, leaving room for his Master to answer him.

Sir Raizel seemed engaged in a mental quarrel with himself. Some things were too painful to speak aloud. This could be one of those times. Perhaps all of the villagers in his tale had died? When silence stretched too long for Frankenstein's patience, he decided to ask a question.

"What happened to the villagers?" he asked and refilled his Master's cup, adding more biscuits to the plate.

"I fought the man. When the stone broke, the souls trapped inside were released. They rained down like red tear drops and the villagers were revived. The man died."

"So, the lord had known what would happen. I can see that. But if the villagers survived, why are you still sad?"

"My brother acquired a blood stone."

End Note

Thank you for reading! Sorry it has taken so long. Between two viruses back to back with extended recovery, messing up my back, and a problem with medicine, I've been truly knocked down for well over a month. It has been crazy.