Apologises for the formatting error on the original chapter upload.
Pain. Misery. Regret.
Lysithea had experienced all these emotions in only a matter of minutes.
Her head hurt.
At the very least, she was now back in the indoors, though she wasn't sure if it had made her feel any better.
Safety from the heavy rainfall was a pleasant benefit, but it hindered her ability to shield her stained face. The aftereffects of her time in the rain still lingered too.
While she had taken off her additional layers, the girl still had to hold onto them, the moisture of which felt awkward against her arm. Even the clothes she was still wearing felt damp, despite being sheltered from the weather. There was also the matter of her soaked hair adding to the discomfort.
Despite feeling dreadful both inside and out, the girl had made an interesting observation. Not a single student could be found.
It was reasonable to assume that they had all been forced back to their quarters. Additionally, with the earlier uproar dissipated, there was no motivation for any pupils to break through the rain's defenses either.
They wouldn't be able to see her.
That was probably the only thing salvageable about this situation, so she was a little thankful for it. However, every benefit has a catch.
She was still under the watchful eye of the Church of Seiros.
Her head hurt.
There were an unusual number of monks roaming around, though she wasn't sure if their numbers seemed higher due to the absence of the students. What was certainly noticeable were the high number of knights stationed around the monastery, many watching carefully as she and her companions walked through the reception hall.
No wonder the church wanted the students gone from the monastery's main grounds; something important was happening that required these numbers.
Of course, she had a good idea of what that something was, as she was currently being accused of having a role to play in this… uneasiness.
Her head still hurt. It felt like it was getting increasingly worse too.
Seteth marched in front of her, with the two soldiers staying by her side. They were positioned in a way that prevented many curious eyes from falling on her, mostly thanks to her smaller height.
The white-haired maiden's mind was the embodiment of turmoil. She found herself unable to latch onto a single thought before it was consumed by two more, and those by four more, and those by eight more, and those by...
A surge of pain snapped her out of her internal prison briefly. She clenched her head and let out a quiet whimper.
Too many observations. Too many emotions. It was hard to keep up. Any attempts to slow her thoughts and calm herself down weren't reaching much success either.
Drained.
Drained, drained, drained!
That was the only word she could use to describe how she felt. Every fiber of her body ached… but only ever so slightly. Its consistency, however, was enough to cause disorientating distress. She was already so sick of it!
Of course, the most reoccurring thoughts were glimpses of the day's events, as if her own mind was mocking her by forcing her to relive every terrible moment.
Miraculously, her breathing and unsteady heart had recovered somewhat, but her body still shivered uncomfortably. Was it due to how cold she was feeling? She honestly wasn't sure anymore. Any attempt at trying to deduce what was going on was quickly killed off by either a distracting thought or her mind rejecting her with a pinch of pain.
One observation she had managed to make, mainly thanks to the consistency of what she was seeing around her, left her perplexed. Every monk or knight they passed wore a face of precaution. Some were so lost in their thoughts that they didn't make any effort to acknowledge their presence.
Something was making them tremendously nervous. That much was clear.
She naturally suspected the White Wolf. His supposed capture was likely to have a role to play in all this, and would certainly explain why so many were around, but why would they be disordered over somebody who had been apprehended?
There was the pain again.
So many questions with no answers. So many emotions. So many observations. So many…
Again.
Lysithea smacked her forehead in an attempt to wipe out the array of nonsense, surprisingly finding it effective. Everything still felt cloudy, but it was the restart she needed to begin to focus once more. Seteth paused and turned his head, giving her a slightly odd look, but she merely avoided eye contact and it wasn't long before they resumed their march.
The look he gave her wasn't one of caution or sternness, but her mind interpreted it in the worst way possible.
What was once an inconceivable amount of interrogations were now replaced by a single, pulsating question - a question that showed no intentions of disappearing.
It wasn't a pleasant one, because of course it wasn't.
What if the church found her guilty?
Her inner voice laughed awkwardly at such a notion. It was understandable to want to question somebody they suspected of leaking information. The Church of Seiros was known as a force for good. Nothing bad would happen.
Well, that was what she wanted to believe. She was having her fair share of doubts about that now.
Her head was beginning to hurt again, but she found the stress peculiarly ignorable due to the arrival of a new emotion - one that was making her hands curl into fists. The moment did not last long, however, due to an unexpected change of pace.
"Brother… What is going on?" Lysithea heard a well-mannered sounding voice call out to them. She looked up and saw a girl approach them, their vibrant verdant hair standing out immediately. WIthout a moment to lose, the girl continued. "When word came back from Catherine, Rhea looked so… relieved. Do you know why?"
The Ordelian girl had never seen this person who donned the academy's uniform before… which was something she found bizarre due to the girl's unique appearance.
She was thankful for their arrival though, as they stood out like a sore thumb. Thanks to that and their bizarrely formal manner of speech, Lysithea found herself set free from the torment of her mind.
Whoever this girl was, she was staring at her with an uncontrollable amount of curiosity twinkling in her eyes. The white-haired maiden quickly turned her head away to avoid eye contact, but all that succeeded in doing was making the girl even more interested; in the corner of her eye, she could see the new arrival make a few steps forward towards her.
"Flayn, I am glad to see you didn't adventure out into the rain." Seteth intersected, diverting his sister's attention. While Lysithea could not see it, he wore a stern face. "I am on important business right now, so I ask that you leave us be."
The slightest pout formed on Flayn's face, but she quickly released it with a sigh.
"...very well, brother." She responded, offering a faint bow.
Glancing at Lysithea one more time, she offered a soft smile before departing. The Ordelian student took a moment to watch the girl leave, finding the other girl's interest in her... perplexing.
Shortly afterwards, Seteth resumed his movement, prompting the student to follow.
And once again, she was led into the realm of silence.
The seclusion would usually be something she would relish in, but this isolation was not of her own accord; it was not making the experience enjoyable.
Lysithea wished she had at least said something to the girl, as she looked a lot more approachable than the knights around her when it came to conversation. Perhaps it was due to her eyes? Her weird level of curiosity was making her curious too.
Then again, her company may have prevented her from doing so. They were obviously taking her somewhere, after all, so there wouldn't be time to stop for a chat. Regardless, the small change of pace was appreciated.
It wasn't too much longer before they entered a corridor that led to a flight of stairs, presumingly leading down into the depths of the reception hall. Upon approaching the staircase, Seteth stopped and turned around, eyeing the two figures standing next to the girl.
"I thank you for assisting me," he offered his thanks to the two knights. "Your presence onwards will not be needed. I ask that you stay guard here until I return."
"Of course, Lord Seteth." one responded, with the other offering their acknowledgement with a nod.
"Please follow me, Lysithea," Seteth called out to her.
With a nod, answered the man's request and followed closely behind him as the journey down several sets of stairs began.
Well, she assumed it would only be a few sets of stairs.
A minute passed, and they were still travelling downwards. The process was unbearably repetitive. Down ten stairs, then perform a u-turn, then down ten more stairs…
As awkward as the walk was before, at least there was a consistent change in the scenery. This? Barely any. There was a gradual change from the more elegant design of the reception hall to simple brickwork, but it was an uninteresting difference.
Surprisingly, the one to offer some respite from this exhausting activity was none other than Seteth, who noticed her slower movement and took time to wait for her at the u-turn point. Lysithea appreciated the gesture but made no comment on it.
While the walk was unbearably tedious, it gave the maiden a moment to truly realize what was happening to her. There was no longer anything of substance to distract her from her lingering fate.
The young girl had subconsciously ignored where their final destination was. With all the activities happening within the monastery, it was easy enough for her mind to be diverted, allowing her to live in denial even for a brief moment.
Every step suddenly felt heavier on her feet.
She remembered what Seteth had said to her out in the rain.
...was the church actually going to do this?
This was a nightmare. It had to be, right?
Lysithea didn't even realize she was shaking her own head, but she at least knew there was no point in delaying the inevitable any longer. She had to face the facts.
She thought she would have to resist the temptation to cry once again. But now? Her eyes leaked nothing. Even her tears were all drained up.
Her head was beginning to hurt again.
And she hated it! She hated this situation! She hated everything that was happening to her!
She hated it, she hated it, she hated it!
"Lysithea, we are here," Seteth called out to her, freeing her from her torment, at least temporarily.
Sure enough, they had reached the bottom. All that awaited them now was a lone door, which was promptly opened by the older man, who beckoned the girl to enter. She abided and found the screeching of the door shutting behind her repulsive. At least the design of this new room was enough to occupy her mind with something a little different.
She found this new location confusing, to say the least; it was a simple square room with doors on each side. Insanely simple.
Wherever they were, it was clearly a scene not many had been to. The lighting in the room was dim, the brickwork looked old and there was a sizable amount of cobwebs attached to the corners of the ceiling. With all that was going on in her head, she was able to tune out that last observation.
Lysithea stood awkwardly, unsure what she was meant to do now. The first impressions she was getting from this place weren't positive either, so the sooner she left this room, the better.
"I would like to apologise for having to bring you down here," Seteth spoke, his voice considerably calmer than it was before, much to her bewilderment. "I do not exactly agree with my orders, but there are many things the church must consider right now. I hope you can understand that."
The lone girl did not resist letting out an aggravated scoff. Vague wording. She detested it. She no longer felt his apology had any merit. It was all empty words to her.
He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her, instead opting to approach the door to the left of the entrance. When he opened it, she noticed it was a small storage room with a variety of supplies. He reached in, pulling out a towel before gently tossing it over to the girl, who caught it somewhat awkwardly.
"Use this to dry your hair."
Urgh.
She knew what towels were for. She was treating him like a…
Lysithea sighed and used the opportunity she was given to clean up her hair, rather than complain. She could feel her hair's usual style fall out of place a little, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make in exchange for hair that wasn't drenched.
The maiden soon handed the towel back, with Seteth promptly returning it to the storage area. While he was doing so, she used this occasion to look at the room and engrave it in her memory. She wasn't offered much time to look, but she noticed all sorts of general-use equipment and even a few weapons inside the room. How interesting.
Once he was done returning the item to its original location, he closed the door swiftly and approached the only one that hadn't been opened yet.
When it was, they were both greeted by a corridor of darkness.
Everything up until this point had been at least fairly lit up, either thanks to natural daylight or the monastery's own built-in lighting.
But this next room? It was completely shrouded in mystery. It simply looked like a passageway into nothing but a void of nothingness.
Seteth either took no notice of this fact or simply didn't care, instead opting to give Lysithea a hand motion signalling he wanted her to enter.
She wasn't in a position to refuse, so she entered. The older man followed after her, closing the door behind him and sealing the light away.
This unnerved her, but she was given a moment to adjust her eyes a little before being asked to move forward.
As she walked, she began to piece together where she was.
On her left and on her right were bars of steel that separated areas of the room from the corridor they were in. She was quick to assume that they were designed to detain something.
Or someone.
Ah.
So he wasn't lying after all. She figured he wasn't.
As much as she was disgusted at what was happening, she was at least ready to accept the reality of the situation.
The Church of Seiros was going to imprison her.
Lysithea had prepared for a potentially troubled life at Garreg Mach Monastery, but she believed she was strong and brave enough to combat it.
But everything that could have gone wrong did, and it was always worse than the worst-case scenario she envisioned.
As for what was happening to her right now? She had not planned for something like this to ever occur.
If this was any other day, she would have done something by now. She would have at least protested and tried to convince the knights of her innocence. She would have done… something.
But these last few days had taken every last sap of energy out of her.
Allegedly, this imprisonment was only until the archbishop was ready to talk to her.
But she knew better by this point. Someone had spread a dangerous rumor about her; the church had seen the color of her hair. It was not difficult to figure out she was seen as a potential threat.
As much as it angered her, she couldn't blame them for wanting to be safe rather than sorry. She would just have to deal with it, just as she had dealt with everything life had thrown at her so far.
But how do you combat being jailed?
Her only chance of freedom was the White Wolf's execution. They would have no reason to keep her captive then.
She hoped that the rumor of his capture was true.
By this point, they had reached the end of the corridor, or she at least she figured they had.
Seteth made a turn and she heard the shuffling of a key unlocking a door. How he was able to see what he was doing was beyond her knowledge. Interestingly, she noticed that he was looking oddly in a specific direction while he opened the door.
"Please enter," he asked her, not moving his head. She complied. What else could she do at this point? But she noticed the strange tone of his voice… it was...
Once again, she heard the sound of the key; the key that was locking her in.
The realization that he was actually doing this was enough to feel her with dread.
This was a reality. This was a reality. This was a reality.
An excruciating amount of anguish erupted inside her body, the searing of which made her want to collapse there and then.
It hurt! It hurt so much!
...She knew why.
It was obvious in hindsight. A part of her mind was still in denial until this point. Reality was only now sinking in.
She was being locked away.
She was never going to see her parents again.
She was going to be left alone.
She was going to die alone.
She was…
She was…!
Lysithea hadn't noticed herself tumbling backwards until she was saved by the close proximity of the back wall. The bump against her head was enough to empty her troubling thoughts, but she was now hurting both inside and out.
"...I will return to you, I promise." Seteth suddenly spoke. The way he spoke sounded… off to her. Did he sound… frustrated? "I did not want to bring you down here in the first place, so I return as soon as I possibly can. You have my word."
The way he spoke raised more questions than answers. But he sounded… sincere. Could she believe him? She… wasn't sure.
Seteth soon started walking away.
The maiden let her body lean against the wall, not bothering to watch the man leave. Even the brief light entering the room as he made his exit did not faze her. She just stared into the nothingness that her eyes were showing her.
Once again she was left in seclusion, but this wasn't the type she could thrive in.
Lysithea decided to not resist the endless thoughts this time. Opposing them just made her headache even worse.
She thought of many things, but tried her best to make sure they were as positive as possible.
Common topics included her parents. She wanted to see them again soon. She hoped she could.
Whenever she pictured their beaming smiles, the pain felt a little further away.
The lone girl found herself sitting down, lessening the pressure on her legs from standing. It provided a minimal amount of comfort, but it was better than nothing.
All she had to do now was play the waiting game.
That was something she wouldn't mind usually, since she would either have something to entertain herself with or at least a good book to read.
But her only company was the eternal darkness.
Lysithea quickly lost track of the time.
She spent multiple moments either adrift in her mind or just staring into the veil of nothingness.
So, when a foreign sound entered her ears after an endless amount of silence, her heart rate convulsed.
"Excuse me…"
The voice was quiet, but was enough to eradicate whatever was brewing in her mind. She immediately began questioning whether she had even heard the voice at all.
It was then that she realized that her eyesight had improved dramatically, all thanks to adjusting to the room's darkness. It was still difficult to see her surroundings, but she could make out the bearings of the room.
There were two prison cells of considerable size opposite her. They were completely empty, which was something she had suspected due to the absence of sound. That also meant there was likely a cell adjacent to hers on the left.
So she looked left.
Her eyes did not lock with an empty cell, but rather something within the same one she was occupying.
She saw a never-ending amount of chains. They were connected to something - to someone.
Somebody was with her.
Thanks to her adjusting to the light, she could make out their figure with some clarity. While much of what she could was still jet-black, this unknown person had a feature that dramatically stood out.
Upon seeing it, Lysithea felt her thoughts empty and her eyes widened in either terror or shock. She couldn't tell which.
Their hair. His hair.
A luminescence white.
She found its shade… equally beautiful and terrifying, and all too familiar.
Part of her was shocked that somebody had been in the cell with her all this time. Another part of her was… mesmerized. She couldn't figure out why, nor could she figure out if this sudden fascination was a good or bad thing.
Was it their unique appearance? The fact they were locked up by countless chains? Their presence entirely?
White hair…
White hair…
White hair!
Something in her mind clicked. It was a pulsing pain that began to expand dramatically fast.
There was a reason why she was so captivated.
However, the reason… was not a good one.
Lysithea did not notice her hands closing into fists. She did not notice her body beginning to shake. She did not notice her heart sink with apprehension.
The only feeling that kept her mind occupied was the sense that her body was getting overtaken… overtaken by an outrageously strong emotion.
The feeling… it was...
This had to be some sort of twisted joke.
It had to be. This was a level of mockery that made her just want to laugh.
"...may I ask for your name?"
She was looking at the White Wolf. The most dangerous criminal on the entire continent; the man responsible for much of the suffering in her life.
He was chained up.
He was defenseless.
She stood up.
Lysithea's legs moved on their own, as if raw instinct itself was guiding them. The rational part of her mind was gone. She thought of nothing.
With chaos guiding her right fist, she raised it skyward. A single moment later, it had smashed into the man's face. His face jolted sidewards awkwardly, but despite the crunch of the collision, not even a whimper came from the prisoner.
In contrast, she was echoing nothing but weeps of woe. Her body shook repeatedly, guided by a flood of adrenaline. The tip of her fist twitched awkwardly, one of her fingers pulsating with torment.
Lysithea ignored the body that was begging her to stop. Everything she was feeling right now… every ounce of distress… it was exactly what she wanted HIM to feel.
She targeted his jaw next, using her uninjured fist.
The punch hurt just as much as the last one, but she didn't care. Her vision blurred; she could barely see the man in front of her anymore, but it didn't matter.
She had something powerful guiding her.
Memories.
"Seize that girl! She has to be part of his group!"
She struck again. It hurt.
"Look at her hair… you don't think…?"
She targeted his chest. It hurt.
"White hair is unnatural. It must mean you are like him."
She paused momentarily, but only to catch her breath. She wasted no time in continuing her assault soon after.
It still hurt.
"Could Count Ordelia be hiding the wolf?"
Every punch resulted in a cry of agony.
The cry was always hers.
"My daddy is innocent! He's done nothing wrong… he's done… nothing… wrong..."
She heard a loud crack, followed by an extraordinary amount of pain condensed around her hand and wrist.
"...mommy... why does nobody want to be my friend?"
Lysithea collapsed backwards onto the ground, her head bashing against the cold floor. Upon crashing against the surface, she let out a wail of distress.
"It hurts so much…"
Every part of her body screamed, as if it was crying for treatment.
The girl's breathing was erratic, as if her body was unable to keep up with what was happening to her emotionally and physically.
Her mind was an incomprehensible mess of misery, as if it was shutting itself down.
This was torturous..
Today was torturous.
No… her entire life was torturous.
"...are you okay?"
The injured maiden couldn't even comprehend what emotion she was meant to be feeling after hearing the man's voice again.
She pushed herself up to gaze up at him, where she then saw first-hand the damage she had inflicted.
His face was bruised all over and his nose was bleeding; drops of blood dripped down towards the floor, with no end to the rain in sight. The sight was not pleasant to behold.
And yet, when she gazed into his azure eyes, she saw a ridiculous amount of concern. To any other being, his eyes would look like they lacked any emotion whatsoever… but when she looked into them… she saw something else entirely.
Concern... it was aimed at her.
"...why?" she murmured, forcing herself to her feet, even if every slither of movement added to the feeling that she could collapse at any moment.
She gripped one of the cell bars, using it as a means to adjust the balance of her body.
"You're hurt..." he answered, with a surprisingly soft voice. Despite its calmness, she could hear the awkward cracks of pain leaking through.
"...are you... insane?" she managed to let out a half-chuckle. It was harmful to use her voice like that, but it was nothing compared to how battered she was currently feeling.
"Answer me, please." he pleaded, offering that same soft voice that contradicted his physical state. "Are you okay? Please... answer me."
Lysithea felt a surge of anger brew inside her, giving her the energy needed to scowl at him.
The way he talked… it was as if he was talking down to her… treating her like…
"You… I don't need to answer you! I… can take care of myself. I'm not a child!"
Why did yelling at him feel so…
The White Wolf responded with a coughing fit, but it sounded like he was trying to laugh. "...my apologies. I of all people should know that... appearances can be deceiving."
What was happening right now? Was this all some ridiculous fever dream? What did his comment even mean? Nothing was… making any sense.
The duo stared at each other for what felt like an eon, neither letting out a single word.
This awkward atmosphere was eventually silenced by the creaking of a door. Lysithea snapped back into reality and her head snapped towards the direction of the prison's entrance.
Seteth wore a face that looked the same as his everyday face, but even he was finding it difficult to hide his inner shock. The way his eyes inspected the situation… the quivering of his lips… she could tell he was astonished.
It didn't take him long before he gathered his physical composure and hurried over to the cell, his breathing awfully awkward and noticeable in volume.
"Lysithea! What is this…?" He called out to her, unsure how to comprehend what his eyes were showing him.
Did she feel guilty about what she had done?
No. Not at all.
...Not at all.
The situation would be awkward to explain, so she ended up giving him the silent treatment rather than answer.
"...it doesn't matter right now, I suppose." he let out a sigh. She heard the sound of the door opening, which sounded obnoxiously louder than usual. "Can you walk? How injured are you? Did… did he…?"
The maiden felt her throat clench up, so she instead opted to answer through her actions by standing up. The process was unbearable, but she didn't want to even consider how pathetic she would look if she failed and fell.
As if on cue, she dropped down to the floor.
She thought she heard the older man yell out her name, but she wasn't sure entirely. As her vision blurred and the darkness crept in, she found herself staring into the wolf's eyes.
He was distressed. He was unhappy. He was worried.
But… why?
Lysithea was not given the time to answer her own question before she fell into the realm of unconsciousness.