Chapter 4: Origin of an Incarnation
It had been a long month since the first lesson with Jason for Elizabeth. Between mediating, studying magecraft, physical and combat training from Mr. Smith, and schoolwork (Hlokk refused to allow Elizabeth to go on uneducated, despite the magical community not enforcing any form of education until they started at 11, at least in Britain), Elizabeth had very little in the way of downtime.
Her sleep was also interrupted by weird dreams, for what else could they be? The first was of that little girl after her mother's death, but it wasn't the last and only one. Most were too quick to really make heads or tails of apart from very brief scenes; a glimpse of a knife tearing into flesh, a gun going off, a blood curdling scream. These would cause her to awaken, not in terror but utter confusion as to why she would be having them. There were the nightmares of her mother's death, of the blond man, but those were nothing to the dreams of the little girl, and now as of last night, the young boy.
~last night~
Elizabeth frowned as she saw a familiar cobblestone street, this time lightly raining. She wondered if this would be the fourth time she dreamt of the little girl that looked so much like her. They almost always ended with her having cold steel driven into her gut, a sensation that she wished wasn't becoming all too familiar.
However, unlike those dreams, this was appearing to be midday, albeit overcast, so all she saw was the drizzle that fell from the heavens. She then heard a shuffle behind her, and she turned. Instead of the young girl, she saw a young boy with pale white hair and skin as her, and the clothes he wore were ragged, almost appearing to be made out of a burlap sack. He was digging through the garbage looking for something. Elizabeth walked forward, but before she could get too close a loud bang was heard as a door was opened violently.
"You little fucking shit!" shouted a large man in a chef's outfit. He picked up the boy and threw him onto the ground violently. "I told you to not root through the garbage, you festering street rat!"
"But sir, please, you weren't even going to eat this!" the boy pleaded. Elizabeth was about to speak up when the chef bellowed out his rage.
"So what?! It was my garbage, it was mine to throw away, if you want food pay for it, like every other decent person you son of a bitch!"
Before Elizabeth could react, the chef picked the boy and threw him in her direction-where he passed through her. Her confusion mounting, Elizabeth's concerns were quickly refocused on the boy who tried to appeal to the chef's humanity. Yet Elizabeth could tell, the chef wouldn't have any for the boy; his colors were those of greedy, spiteful men, those she had seen in men who beat up old men for not paying back on loans. The chef was about to lay his hands on the boy when both he and Elizabeth noticed the young boy's eyes; one was as blue as a sapphire, and the other was a deep crimson red. The chef freaked out, while Elizabeth stared at the boy, knowing he could see what she saw.
"Sir, please, my mother and I need to eat, yet she can only do so much!" the boy said desperately, something the young girl could empathize with. She didn't know how many times her mother and her struggled to live in their run-down apartment, how winter was especially grueling on her tiny frame. To see another child near her age in such a similar situation, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel pity amongst all the other emotions she was feeling.
The chef, clearly freaked out by the boy in front of him, snarled in an attempt to save face.
"Fine, but if I catch you rooting through my garbage one more time-!"
"Thank you, sir, I won't bother you again!" the boy said, quickly getting up and collecting the food that had fallen from his grip. As the boy turned the corner, Elizabeth could feel herself beginning to awaken, her last thought being why did the boy seem so familiar?
~present time~
Indeed, with her sleep being interrupted, it made her daytime affairs seemingly drag on. She had upon awakening wondered who the boy was, before sighing as she smelled a charcoal-esque smell coming from the kitchen.
"Hlokk must have tried to cook breakfast, great," Elizabeth muttered. The blonde Valkyrie seemed incapable of cooking, though if this was simply a trait of hers or inexperience Elizabeth didn't know. What she did know was that despite his ruthless training methods, Mr. Smith was a decent cook, able to prepare standard British fare. That said, Elizabeth thought that his best skill was in tea brewing. His teas were never too bitter, too sweet, scalding hot or freezing cold.
Knowing she needed to get up to stop Hlokk from burning anything else, Elizabeth got up and quickly headed into the kitchen, where she saw Hlokk standing, looking at some toast-or, what should've been toast. It was far too black to be called toast. Elizabeth sighed.
"Hlokk, what did you do?" Elizabeth asked, her mind trying to figure out how she managed to burn a piece of toast so thoroughly before shrugging it off. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Just please tell me there is still some bread for me to have some breakfast." Hlokk gave her a deadpan glare.
"Yes there is, I'm not one to repeatedly make the same mistakes," Hlokk said. She tossed the bag of sliced bread to the white-haired girl, who grabbed the jar of peanut butter and starting putting it on a couple of bread slices.
The Valkyrie meanwhile watched as the one girl ate her simple meal, thinking about how the young girl was coping with her loss. While one would think a child, especially as young as her would be reduced to shambles after witnessing their parent's demise and being subject to inhumane torture, Elizabeth seemed able to drown out the emotional torment. Yet the Valkyrie knew from her time with Jack that Elizabeth could be channeling her despair in other more unconventional means.
She seemed to throw herself into work, whether it be her mundane or magical studies, perhaps as a mean to drown out her emotions. Hlokk wondered if she would be able to assist Elizabeth with getting past her trauma, but knew that ultimately, she would have to wait for the one girl to make a move. However, the blonde knew she would support Elizabeth, as she had an opportunity to not turn out like Jack.
"So what is the plan for today?" Elizabeth asked. Hlokk sighed; straight to business as usual with her master.
"I know that Jason is planning on discovering your Origin and Element, so that ritual will be done later today."
"Anything I need to worry about?" Elizabeth asked. Hlokk shook her head.
"According to Jason, the method used will be an older form that involves putting you into a mediative trance while pouring your prana into a magic circle that you will be lying on. This will allow you to discern your Element and Origin by allowing you to examine your soul without the usual restrictions."
"Doesn't sound too hard, so why don't most families use this method?" Elizabeth asked. Hlokk sighed.
"Because the possibility of you misinterpreting your Element is a real possibility, and your Origin is even trickier to nail down. This is why many established families use their own method, often based on blood-based rituals, to establish their kin's element and Origin."
Elizabeth nodded. She had by now finished her toast, and she began to wonder what she would do until the time for the ritual would begin. Hlokk grabbed her hand.
"Hey, since you don't have classes today, and Mr. Smith had promised you that he wouldn't work you to the bone today, how about we do something fun before the ritual?" Hlokk said. Elizabeth tilted her head-how long had it been since she did something that wasn't recovering or learning?
"Um, okay, but what would we do?" Elizabeth asked. Hlokk smiled, and somehow, Elizabeth felt she would come to greatly regret this decision.
Clock Tower, London, England
"Never thought I would end up here of all places," Celenike muttered to herself. Her family being loyal to Darnic's made her naturally at odds with the Magus Association, but even before then, the Icecolle's family were considered too dark, even with the ultra-pragmatic and ruthless Magi of the Association. Alas, her mission demanded she gain insight to the masters of the next Grail War, as well as that of the current master of Assassin.
She wondered about the young master. If what little Hyouma had told Darnic was accurate, then the young girl was a Magus, but with no family, it might be possible to stick it to the arrogant Japanese brat by taking the young girl under her wings, under the guise of taking her as an apprentice. But alas, she heard from that fat pomp Gordes that Hyouma was being given the opportunity to save face with Darnic by attempting to retrieve his servant, which meant the girl had a death sentence on her head.
However, as she entered the Clocktower, she saw that most were opting to ignore her, mostly due to having things they needed to focus on, but she saw a few Magi looking at her with raised eyebrows. It appears that her appearance was already noticed.
She was about to walk over to the directory when she felt someone approach her.
"What is a member of the Yggdemillenia clan doing here?" asked a male voice. Celenike turned around and saw that the voice belonged to a young, black-hair man that was wearing a red overcoat over a black suit. Celenike noted the rather dour look on his face, as if he were judging her, trying to determine if she was a threat. She gave the man a smirk.
"Is that how a gentleman treats a lady?" Celenike said, before becoming serious after seeing the young man remaining unfazed. "Fine I was sent by the head of my clan to investigate a matter close to the clan's interests. I wouldn't be staying here if not for that, not when I have my experiments to conduct. Now, who might you be?"
The man sighed, taking out a cigarette.
"I am Waver Velvet, a lecturer teaching Modern magecraft," Waver said. Celenike raised an eyebrow; this young man, who barely looked to be older than twenty, was already a lecturer?
Then she briefly recalled where she heard that name. Waver Velvet, a student of the Clocktower until a year ago when her became a master in the 4th Holy Grail War, being the master of the Rider-class servant. While not victorious, he had survived, a feat most of the master could not claim of that war, and he went on to travel through Asia, the Middle-East, and Europe.
She had to admit, she was surprised to find this young man had survived, but perhaps his relative newness to Magi gave him a more practical insight than more established families. Still didn't make up for the lack of power.
"And I am Celenike Icecolle of the Yggdemillenia clan, Magus of Dark Arts," she said, formally introducing herself. Waver nodded, taking a drag from a cigarette.
"And what, Celenike, might be the nature of the matter your Clan's head has sent you to investigate?" Waver inquired.
Celenike paused, wondering if it was too much to state her clan's interest in the Holy Grail War. With two of the founding families undoubtedly in the know of the Grail's unusual early occurrence within the decade, it wouldn't necessarily be confidential, but declaring her clan's interest in the Grail might bring unwanted attention. Although, Darnic hadn't told her to be quiet, so perhaps she could speak of it, might make her task go by faster.
"I was sent to investigate potential master for the next Holy Grail War," Celenike stated. "The head of the clan has reason to believe that the next Grail War won't be in the 6 decades, but rather within the decade."
Waver frowned, tapping his cigarette against his finish to remove the tip's ashes.
"Oh, is that so? What makes Darnic believe that to be the case?" Waver asked, his tone brooking no deceit. Celenike smirked, as she had no reasons to lie.
"One of the clan's Magi attempted to summon a Servant, and actually succeeded, if not for the fact it became evident that the servant summoned wasn't his to control, but that of a Magus that he attempted to use as a spare prana battery."
While Celenike spoke, Waver noted that her face and voice didn't indicate any effort to lie. Her voice was even, she didn't look away while she spoke, her ears didn't flush, and he didn't sense any attempt to use magecraft to cover these and other tells. She had to be telling the truth, which disturbed Waver.
A servant being summoned so soon after the last Grail War, for an early Grail War. And that a potential master attempted to replicate the trick his late teacher, Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi, did with using his fiancé to act as a source of power for his servant, leaving him free to use his magecraft. And worse yet, the Yggdemillenia clan was interested.
It was no secret that Darnic despised the Association, but if Darnic got ahold of the Grail, well it would be one hell of a coup for the Yggdemillenia clan, one that could spell future problems. He needed to confer with those he could trust in the Association, but alas, those that he could trust he could reliably count on one hand. However, there was a few things he needed to know before he could begin making plans.
"Who is the master and what class is the servant in question?" Waver asked. Celenike sighed, as she had not been given too much information to go off of herself.
"The master is a young girl with white hair, red and green eyes, with a pale complexion, roughly 7 years of age. She is of a Magi bloodline, whose remains unknown, as the only person who would know is now dead. As for the servant, it is of the Assassin class," Celenike stated. She kept Assassin's identity a secret, as while unlikely, Hyouma might be able to regain Assassin.
Waver nodded, taking another drag. A young kid who will be fueling a Servant, their development as a Magus would ordinarily be impacted, yet Waver wondered if Assassin required substantially less prana than another servant would. If so, it might make tracking Assassin even more difficult.
"I don't suppose you would happen to know the identity of Assassin, would you," Waver asked, seeing if she would lie.
Celenike smirked, showing her canine as her eyes shifted subtly.
"Alas, my clansman was unable to confirm the identity of the servant," Celenike lied. "Anyway, I need to begin investigating the matter, as this is something the Head wants settled quietly, without too much interference."
Waver tapped his cigarette, before tossing the butt into a nearby trash bin.
"Very well, I will leave you be. But if this Servant becomes an issue…" Waver left it hanging as he walked off, knowing the bitch had lied to him. Celenike knew that he knew, but didn't care, as after all, his was but a young upstart. What could a single man do against the collective might of Yggdemillenia?
Sanguine Rose, London, England
Jack looked over to Jason, who was busy applying to the finishing touches to the ritual that would be used to determine the origin and Element of his master. He quiet liked the young man, as much as a murderer could; honest, hardworking, and not easy to give into anger, unless it was with the landlady. Jack knew that Jason wouldn't think to betray anyone, something he could tell with the Gods' gift to him.
If he was frank, he much preferred Jason to his Grandfather, whom he met when the two were young men. Aleister, Jack knew, deserved the title as 'Most Dangerous Man' and 'the Beast', at a young age had developed an interest in the occult and while Jack didn't know him much, he could sense the whirling power and ambition within that man. While Jack was Humanity's most infamous criminal, he no doubt suspected Aleister to becoming the most powerful Magus, worthy of his titles.
"So it has been some time since you've been summoned, yet you haven't murdered anyone," Jason suddenly began, not taking his eyes off of the magic circle. Jack looked at Jason and noted the tinge of confusion in his aura. "Is there some reason you haven't killed anyone?"
"Would you prefer I did?"
"Of course not! But still, you're Jack the Ripper, the man who terrorized London in the late 1880s, known worldwide as being a serial killer who went uncaught. I thought that given your past, you would take up your old crimes once more."
Jack nodded at Jason's line of thought. It wasn't unreasonable; he did enjoy killing, or rather the sheer terror that enveloped his victims as the moment of their passing, and here he was, in the modern era, with the means to carry out his vile actions once more. But…
"I may be a serial killer, one whose total kill count is significantly higher than what is attributed to me, I have had time to reach an epiphany, one brought on by a great man, who managed to see past nature to see what made me who I became," Jack said with an air of wistfulness. "And through that man's action, he showed me that I was ultimately wrong."
"But by no means does this absolve me of my sins; no act or measure of time will erase them. However, due to that man's influence, I have since grown to focus on inwardly on myself."
Jason was silent, contemplating what Jack told him. By his voice, he didn't doubt Jack was telling the truth, and he wasn't denying or trying to excuse his murders, but Jason knew this was Jack the Ripper, the world's most infamous serial killer, which meant he had to have some reason to murder.
"Why did you begin your killing spree?" Jason asked. Jack sighed.
"Ultimately, it is meaningless, as I have come to be shown it was a something a better man could've live passed. But if you must know, I was broken you could say; my first murder was against my own mother."
"What?" Jason said, confusion in his voice. Jack nodded.
"Yes, I was young, a little over 13 years in fact, when I killed my mother. She was a prostitute, but I love her, as she taught me to read, kept me alive despite aborting five other older siblings, and was kind to me in a London who cared not for its citizens. But she found out that one of her clients had become a famous playwright and had married a noblewoman."
"I tried to comfort my mother, but, to my shock, I saw all her love that I thought was towards me was turned into the most disgusting of emotions. She screamed and told me she wished that she had aborted me all those years ago. Her color, how I saw people's emotions, was the same as all the corrupt and degenerate people that made up my life. I realized that all I was to her was a meal ticket towards the playwright, so I tried choking her to death."
"It was in this moment that I saw for the first time the color of fear. It was…intoxicating to me, to see such a vibrant color push all other colors of emotions aside, it was like I was purifying her. In truth, I wanted to see my mother in a pure color, any color, that wasn't the disgusting weave of foul emotions. She resisted, but I had managed to grab a knife and end her life, her last color being that of fear."
"From that moment onwards, I committed many more murders, all to see that color in people's final moments. I killed my father next, who was shocked to learn of my existence, then I kept killing. It would not be until much, much later that I would meet the man who would reveal to me that I killed because I had lost everything. My hope, my dreams, my humanity, I lost it all. As he showed me this proof, I felt remorse for my actions for the first time. And all I wish for…is to meet him one more time."
Jason remained silent, as he took in this information. He didn't know what to feel. To learn that Jack the Ripper killed for such a reason was enough to for him to hate Jack, but Jack's voice seemed genuine in his remorse, and he seemed grateful to his unnamed…paragon, for showing him the error of his life.
"But enough of myself, we must prepare my master for this ritual; we have dallied long enough discussing my motivations rather than focusing on my master," Jack said, interrupting any further questions or thoughts Jason might have. Jason nodded.
"Yes, bring down Elizabeth and we shall commence this ritual; we need to know her elements and origin to determine how best to train her as a Magus," Jason said. Jack nodded, heading out of the room to retrieve his master and Hlokk.
Jason was left in his thoughts, wondering who could cause the serial killer to reflect inwardly. He couldn't think of anyone with that amount of influence and goodwill to make someone like Jack question themselves. Still, as Jason put the finishing touches on the ritual, it was for the best.
He got up from the ground, and quickly grabbed something that Zelretch had given him for the purpose of aiding Elizabeth find her origin and element; a broken blade fragment with no handle that was rusted. It was curved, with a serrated edge, but the once razor-sharp teeth were dulled and broken by age. Why such a catalyst was suitable for Elizabeth he didn't know, but he had faith that Zelretch was doing his best.
Jason then saw Elizabeth, Hlokk, and Jack enter the room. Hlokk and Jack seemed fine, but Elizabeth seemed tired.
"Are you alright Elizabeth?" The young girl nodded.
"Yeah, just tired from Hlokk's idea of 'fun'," Elizabeth said, yawning. Hlokk puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
"C'mon, you can't tell me you weren't enjoying the game," Hlokk said. Elizabeth frowned at the Valkyrie.
"You insisted that we play Dance, Dance, Revolution and that karaoke game at the same time," Elizabeth tiredly replied. "For over six hours." Hlokk nervously laughed.
"Ehehe, it wasn't that bad…" Hlokk said. Elizabeth sighed.
"Do you realize that before today I never wore high-heels, and you had me dancing in them?!" she bit out. Jason saw Hlokk trying to whistle innocently, all the while Elizabeth glared at her. The awkward pause was mercifully ended when Jack cleared his throat.
"Regardless of what you were doing for the last six hours, it's time to get the ritual down and over with," the Ripper spoke. "Elizabeth, if you would please follow Jason's instructions."
Elizabeth nodded and approached Jason, who handed her the broken blade.
"While you are lying in the circle, you will need to hold onto this catalyst, and while I put you under, you will need to examine your soul. In the meantime, I will extract blood and put it onto this parchment which will show your origin and element, in case you were unable to comprehend it in your time." Elizabeth took the broken blade and laid on her back in the middle of the circle, closing her eyes as she silently fell into darkness.
When she opened her eyes, Elizabeth wondered what she would see. Would it be the bleak London from her dreams, the dilapidated room of her life before her mother's death, or perhaps the Sanguine Rose in its opulent grandeur? What she saw however was nothing like that. Instead, it was a dark void, with black flames that scoured…things. What they were Elizabeth didn't know, but they flitted about for a moment before the flames would scour them, the amorphic forms rendered into nothingness.
Elizabeth cautiously moved forward in this void, her feet never giving way despite there being no ground for her to stand on. As she moved, the things seemed to flow around her, her being seemingly having no effect on them. She frowned and tried to perceive them like she did with people, with her eye. But when she did, they were all a dull white, with no foulness, taint, glow, or purity to them. It was like whatever they were, they were dead, for want of a better term.
As soon as she thought this, the things became more, as she began to see what they were.
"Stop, have mercy-!"
"I have a family, let me go, I beg of you-!"
"No, no, not like this, not like this!"
"Damn you, damn you to hell!"
Elizabeth stopped; the things were spirits, or what remained of them. And the flames extinguished them, the final memories of these spirits' life, their moment of death. But why was she seeing them, what about her let her see these spirits' final moments?
A pillar of dark flame flared up, and Elizabeth gazed at it, and she saw. She saw the terror in the spirits' core, she saw their demise, ended brutally by a wicked serrated teeth stabbing and sawing into their bodies, she saw the dark miasma that centered around…her. Or an older her, one with long white hair that was matted from sweat and blood, wearing a long-tattered cloak, holding the dread dagger of these spirits, the eyes alit with madness.
"Please, end my suffering."
A voice that sounded like the other spirits drew Elizabeth's attention away from her older self. She looked to the source and saw many spirits ending.
"Thank you for ending my pain."
"I grow tired of my plight, just end it, please!"
"No more, give me death, I can't take it no more!"
Elizabeth walked closer, and saw the peace within these spirits' core, she saw the end of a hard life, ended by…a surgeon's scalpel, granting a swift end to those spirits. She saw herself, older like the other her, but instead of flowing matted white hair, she had a short bob-cut hair. Instead of a tattered dark cloak, she wore a clean and pristine white uniform, and instead of a dreaded serrated blade, it was a simple surgeon's scalpel.
Elizabeth walked to her but stop upon seeing her eyes. Those eyes, like the other her, held a madness in them. A madness born of some grief, that Elizabeth had seen in those that had no hope.
"I am you," the 'clean' her spoke. "Yet I am not."
"I am not you, yet I am," spoke her 'dark' self.
"We are different, yet we are the same," they both spoke. 'Our paths differ, but our fate remains the same. The end of life."
"The termination of life, with the goal of granting a merciful end."
"The rending of life, to clean the living of filth and decay."
"We show you our paths, but like us, you will be bound by fate."
Elizabeth snarled; this was not to be her destiny! She would not be some mindless killer, she couldn't, she wouldn't, she had vowed she would make a world where other could-
In an instant, her two selves burned away, leaving her standing before…herself. One that stood looking down at her, her hair short and cropped, her red eye behind a monocle, her right hand resting on the hilt of a long, curved, serrated blade, wearing a velvet red tailcoat, with a crimson teardrop hate adorned with a single rose.
"You made a vow, but how you fulfill it depends on you," she spoke calmly. "How will you protect your loved ones, how will you make a better world, one where-"
"I won't give into madness because it is my destiny!" shouted Elizabeth, only to frown when she saw her other-self smirk.
"Good, then don't lose yourself along the way of fulfilling your destiny," her other self said, before she too was engulfed in flames. Before Elizabeth could react however, the dark flames that dominated the void began to flare up into a fiery conflagration, and consumed her-
-Elizabeth bolted upright, her breath coming out ragged and she quickly scanned the room. Inside, there was Mr. Smith leaning against the wall, his knee bent and his head hanging. Hlokk meanwhile was sitting in a chair, drooling a little as she slept. And Jason, he was already at her side, examining her.
"No signs of injuries, good," Jason muttered. "You are probably going to be a bit sore, given you were lying stock still for several hours."
"Did everything go alright?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Jason nodded.
"Yes, we managed to determine your origin and elements, but before we continue, do you have any ideas on what they are? Sometimes the person knows just from the examination of their soul."
Elizabeth shook her head, although she had some ideas. She doubted her elements were wind, water, or earth, as none seemed to be present in any form in her…soul. Fire was a possibility, given the flames the scoured the spirits, but void was said to enable said spirits to exist.
"Well, you have a strong affinity towards Fire, with a weaker affinity for Void, or ether as it is sometimes referred to as," Jason said. "I reckon your void affinity is due to your ability to perceive people's emotions and being the master of a servant, although that is guess work. Fire though, well its pretty common, and is said to represent life and death, so perhaps your life is such that-"
"What about my origin?" Elizabeth asked. She wanted, no needed to know, after her confrontation with her three selves. Jason hummed.
"Your origin is Rending, suggesting your mage craft will orient towards the separations of things into pieces. I heard the Magus Killer has a similar origin, Severing, along with Binding, but since the 4th Grail War, he has dropped off the Radar, so to speak," Jason said.
Elizabeth frowned; rending, doesn't sound bad, but in the context of life, well, wasn't that what murder was? Why did her other-selves seem to focus on murder? Maybe she was missing something that would shed light on the situation.
Elizabeth tried to get up, but staggered before Jason grabbed her.
"Don't try and move, despite it not being physical taxing, it was mentally, and you'll need to get your rest. Mr. Smith, if you would-"
"Of course," Mr. Smith said, before gently picking up Elizabeth. "Let's get you in bed, you'll need to rest up."
Elizabeth tried to struggle to stay awake, but alas she was exhausted. Perhaps she could unravel things when she awoke, yeah that sounded fine.
Because after all, she had her life to figure out what she saw, right?
Author's Note: Damn, sorry for being nearly a year late to publishing this chapter, but I had a bitch of a time getting the ending to a state I felt okay with publishing the chapter. But first, the reviews.
-rj36058: Here's the update, I hope you enjoy.
Now with that singular review out of the way, lets get onto some points.
-Elizabeth's Elements and origin: This took me a long time to pin down on what I wanted it to be, because it would affect the story going forward. I wanted Void for sure, because her being a master of a spirit years before the 5th Grail War, yeah, that makes sense. But I didn't want her to be an average one like Rin is, nor did I want her to have some 'odd' element like Sword like Shirou does. I knew I didn't want water or wind, as it didn't flow with any ideas I had. That left Earth and Fire, and oh boy, was it tough to choose.
I ultimately went with fire because her Origin, Rending, could apply to the concept of life and death, and isn't Jack the Ripper most know for was the rending of life, so wouldn't it fit his master to have a similar nature? But she isn't going to be fem-jack the ripper, that why we got Jackie! No, her elements and origin, well they have a role to play, yet its too early to say how.
-Celenike: Yeah, this bitch will play a role in making people's lives hell, but she will be dealt with, in due time. I portrayed her like this and not some sadistic bitch because she was in a formal setting. Even madmen can put on a face and act normal if it means they can carry on in the privacy of their home. Plus, she has nothing to gain by acting like a bitch at the moment, so why would she risk her mission just to get a moment's kick?
That's all I want to discuss. The next chapter shouldn't take so long, as I intend to do a time skip so we can get the show really rolling. Until next time, please read, review, follow, and favorite, and I'll catch you guys next time.