Reviews:
FuryJoe: Thank you! Glad you enjoyed.
Tero7323: Good to hear you thought the pacing was fine. Since it was the longest chapter to date, I was worried I crammed too much in one or that some things might have gotten rushed. Also, same, Link, Snake, and Samus are my go-to's.
Tom2011: More of the plan will be shown at a point in this chapter as well to help fill in the missing gaps. The upcoming battle will have everyone playing to their strengths to be sure.
Greer123: Yeah, I'm all better now and hope to have the chapters out as usual. I'm glad you enjoyed and I hope this chapter is able to deliver.
Pyromania101: Between that and work, it's a miracle I was able to finish the chapter when I did. I'm happy that you enjoyed and I hope this chapter will be just as exciting as before.
OBSERVER01: Thanks! The full extent of Harry's situation and what happened to him getting caught will be revealed here.
Guest: The details of his capture and plan will be revealed this time around. And the behelit is back into play as well.
Hairul The Nightrage Beast: Everything will be revealed this chapter concerning Harry's fate as well as converging major events to Falconia. We'll see a few scenes of Guts and Casca and the rest and what they've been doing in the time that the others went to Falconia and what happens after.
Celexs Draconia: I was hoping to throw people for a loop with how it ended. The full details of how Harry got to where he is will be shown here. So glad that you enjoyed!
Necrogod: Not a problem! Hope you enjoy.
TidasFFX1997: Yeah, she's a lot less brave than Leia, but I tried giving her more perspective and development in various chapters to develop her a bit more. Aside from Charlotte, I also thought the Slug Count partially resembled Jabba and the scene with Guts and Zodd vs an Emperor that shoots lightning is very reminiscent of ROTJ. It only adds since Miura has said his favorite movie is Star Wars.
12lawmanj: There isn't much on the site for Berserk/Harry Potter and since one is my favorite manga and the other my favorite series of fantasy novels, I wanted to try my hand at it. I hope that once you read the first chapter you'll stick with it the rest of the way. Thank you for checking it out!
Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.
Today had finally arrived. It was the day she had been looking forward to for years now since she was in her teens and first gotten to know the charming hero of Midland. Now, she was to be married to him on her twentieth birthday. The feelings of excitement and wanting mixing with uncertain notions of longing were building in her chest as she moved a slender hand up to her bosom.
And still, she felt nervous.
It can't possibly be true, could it?
A brief moment of doubt.
Charlotte shook her head. This was no time for doubt. She knew all there was to know, yes? She closed her eyes and felt her fingers brush across the skin above her heart. All she had to do was believe, to have faith.
And... I know that I have to be sure where I put my faith.
The sun was barely up, she had not gotten much sleep - no. She had not gotten any sleep at all since the previous evening. But she did not feel tired.
Anna had even stayed by her side all night as a means of comfort but by now it felt more like Anna was trying to comfort herself and her own guilt about leaving her when there had been an intruder in the palace.
"The whole thing was my fault!" Anna exclaimed for the twelfth time since she awoke from where she had passed out on Charlotte's bed. She sounded as nervous as Charlotte felt on the inside before she tried her hardest to push those feelings away or to hide from them.
"Do not blame yourself, Anna," she told her long-time servant and friend. "What would you have even done anyway?" it sounded harsher than she meant it to but she didn't utter an apology after. What good would it do?
The blonde girl hardly seemed too concerned by the tone. "I would have stayed, of course! A young, beautiful lady such as yourself needs to have those she can trust around. You're far more important than you realize."
"Because of my blood?" Charlotte asked, surprising Anna a bit.
"Not just that and your titles, but your standing with the city and Lord Griffith," Anna listed. "This is your city as much as his, you know."
She nodded. "I do."
That would have normally been enough to satisfy anyone questioning her, but Anna was perceptive of her response. "Queen Charlotte, are you alright?" Anna brought the back of her hand to feel Charlotte's forehead. "You seem awful... well, to put it frankly, wooden. Are you positive that... that... rapscallion didn't do anything to you?"
"He didn't do anything to me," Charlotte truthfully told. "It is over and he has been detained. May we please not discuss him anymore?"
To that, Anna nodded obediently. "Of course. But let me just mention that no one will blame you for wanting to postpone the wedding for a few more days. Lord Griffith would be more than understanding."
"That is kind of you to offer, but my mind has been made up." Has it? "I've waited for this day for far too long. Besides, it would be poor manners to have all the assembled guests leave now just to return shortly after. Whatever I may have experienced earlier cannot come in the way of my decision. What kind of queen would I be if I didn't listen to the needs of my people?"
Her response seemed more than enough to satisfy the doubt that Anna had. "Well, I'm certainly joyed to see you find your resolve. Shall I help you get your dress on? Or perhaps get your hair ready? What about-?"
"Could you perhaps go and get a few more flowers from the gardens for the bouquet?" Charlotte interjected by giving Anna a proper task to set her mind to. A bouquet would be nice.
"Oh! Of course, at once!" Anna politely bowed her head as she scampered out of the Queen's chambers. Charlotte caught sight of Sir Laban and one other knight stationed outside her room as Anna left to fulfill her given task. They had been there since the intrusion and would remain by her side until she was safely down the aisle and at the altar with Griffith. She wished they would stay.
He wasn't tired.
Harry hadn't slept all night in the cell below Falconia and he wasn't feeling tired at all.
And even if by some miracle he did manage to get a lick of sleep in this place, it wouldn't have been a pleasant one. The bed wasn't as uncomfortable as it could have been. He very easily could have been made to sleep on a bed of spikes or in a pile of manure. By all standards, this cot wasn't too dissimilar to the one Luca had back at her inn. He chalked it up to being Falconia really didn't have many prisoners, to begin with as he was the only one in this entire block. The more unlikely reason being was that Neo-Griffith wanted him to feel comfortable.
That would be more unnerving.
It wasn't as if he didn't know what would happen if he had gotten caught. They had discussed as much before as well. The problem here now - aside from the obvious- was that he had been stripped of his staff and even the hairs Schierke had tied around his finger making it impossible for him to communicate with anyone now. Those hairs and the accompanying thought transference had come in handy more than once and were a means of fail-safe in the event he couldn't produce a Patronus to send a message and vice-versa.
Harry doubted Farnese, Serpico, Sirius, and the rest had been found out though. If they had, they wouldn't be down here with him though. Neo-Griffith wouldn't chance putting them all together where they could figure out a means of escape. If they had been found, they might have been killed on the spot or made into entertainment for some rather vicious apostles.
But would that happen? Neo-Griffith had spoken to him the previous evening letting him know that he would rather save any bloodshed until after the wedding. If he lived up to that remained to be seen. But one thing was evident though; he would be turned over to Voldemort when this was all done.
He tried to picture himself facing off against the man obsessed with him in the fighting pit in Pandemonium while the spectating apostles spit and cheered them on. Even if he did manage to defeat Voldemort then, he would be offered up as a snack for all those apostles. That is if he was even fit to fight.
It was hard to tell what part of the morning it was, but the bars on the wall did allow some sunlight to trickle through. That was also when the torturer arrived.
The man was tall and lanky and wore a clean smock over his regular tunic. On the table just outside of Harry's cell, he began laying out a roll of cloth with various tools and instruments on it. From what Harry could see they ranged from metal hooks and knives to nailed whips and pliers. He seemed keen on the whip as he rolled it around with his wrist to get a proper feel for it and lashed it against the wall a few times for practice.
"You're awfully quiet, you know?" the torturer asked, sparing a look at where Harry sat expressionlessly on his cot, resembling a plank of wood rather than a person. "Are you not afraid at all?"
"...Not for this."
"Well, I was once from Chuder. They developed all sorts of torturer methods there. It's been so long since I've gotten to do my job. But for the crime of breaking into the Queen's chambers, I can imagine the sort of punishment that will entail. I may seem a bit rusty so I can only guarantee that it will hurt a lot less than it is supposed to."
"And what would that be?" a new voice asked, cutting into the near silent dungeon block.
"Ah, General," the torturer gave a bow of the neck. "Do you wish to interrogate the prisoner before I start?"
"I've come to interrogate, but also to inform you that your actions are not necessary. Lord Griffith said he is not to be touched. If I were you, I'd pack up now before you find yourself cleaning out chamberpots."
With a clearly disappointed sigh, the torturer packed up his instruments and made his exit and shooting Harry a rather pointed look as he did so. It was then that Harry's savior stepped into proper sight for him to see.
It was a tall man with chin-length blonde hair and a strong jaw. "Fancy that we'd be meeting like this." He pulled over a stool from the desk and sat down. "I'm not sure if you remember me but we've met before on a few occasions. I'm-,"
"Sir Owen," Harry interjected as politely as possible. "The last time we spoke was in Vritannis before Emperor Ganishka attacked."
Owen seemed relieved that he needed no introduction. "Proof that even the most mundane of things can seem relevant now. You are called Harry Potter if I remember correctly" He tried to give a reassuring look without a smile. "Much has happened since then. I'm now General Owen and captain of Falconia's guard. As such, it's only my place to ask you questions. And if I recall our last conversation in Vritannis, you were interested in talking."
"A lot has happened to all of us since then," Harry affirmed. "Griffith talked to me last night, he knows how I got in."
Owen nodded. "Did it have anything to do with any of the items you had on you? Magical perhaps?"
Harry looked at the knight in the eyes. "How much did he tell you?"
"Lord Griffith hasn't spoken to me since last night either," Owen informed. "But it was I who confiscated and locked your items away. The contents were far too bizarre to not be anything less than out of the ordinary. Am I wrong?"
"Would it be a moot point to ask where you put them?"
"It would. Are you planning on escaping?"
"Not really much I can do now, magic or otherwise."
Owen looked a bit skeptical at that. "So you fully admit then to possessing magic? Do you understand what this could mean?"
"I've already signed my death warrant, haven't I?" Harry rhetorically asked.
"You might be granted a pardon," Owen said, much to his surprise. "Listen, when last we spoke in Vritannis, you were in the company of the Black Swordsman - a man who reportedly traveled the land killing the creatures which now help to protect the city. I have my fair share of problems with them, but they've proved useful. The Black Swordsman is the Hundred-Man Slayer, the Hawks Raiders Captain. You all used to ride with Griffith, why not now as well? I'd be prepared to pledge my word that you would serve Falconia loyally. I just need to know, what is your purpose for being here? What does the Queen have to do with this?"
It didn't seem in Owen's nature to lie about his intentions, but that didn't change Harry's answer. "You ask for something that I can't and won't do. Riding with him again, it couldn't be done. If you want to know, just ask him. I'd love to hear what he says. And I can understand you wanting to look after the Queen. I did come here to abduct her."
Owen's gaze turned steel for a second before it lessened to his regular look. "Somehow I don't fully believe you." He rose from the stool he had been sitting on. He cast an apologetic glance to Harry before walking down the line of cells and closing the door behind him. The sound of the door locking shut was the only sound that occupied the space as Harry sat there on his cot, alone with only his thoughts.
She truly does look the part of a queen.
That was Laban's thought as he saw Charlotte for the first time in her wedding dress.
As per her own request, Charlotte had hand-made the entire dress herself, putting much time and effort into doing so to her own exact specifications. Like all wedding dresses, it was a pure white, reflecting Charlotte's own pure naivety along with the clean color of Falconia and her soon-to-be spouse. She had yet to put her veil on as she was still in the process of finalizing her hair which was a perfect princess curl as of now. For the dress itself, Laban found it to be quiet modest for someone of a Queen's importance. Little skin was visible and the neck of the dress was a bit higher and laid than what he was used to seeing her in. It had something to do with Charlotte fearing that her neck was too long. The length was shorter, however, still covering all of her legs but leaving enough to trail along behind her in her wake when she would walk down the aisle but it was nothing of the sort where people would have to hold the fabric up. For the torso seemed to be where the most creative process took place. He could see she had created what looked like wings or feather designs near the shoulders and arms to reflect Griffith's chosen sigil of a hawk in flight. But closer to the mid-section seemed to be an almost rib-like design that clung to her sides and culminated in a white heart just beneath her bosom. And for the finishing touch, she was wearing the heirloom that had once belonged to her mother around her neck.
"You truly do look beautiful, Queen Charlotte."
She laid out a pair of white gloves on her desk before looking up at the veteran knight. "Thank you, Sir Laban." Her voice sounded distant.
"I mean it, Your Highness. Lord Griffith is the luckiest man in the world today. Savior of Humanity or not, I would not hesitate to strike him if he should ever dishonor you."
That seemed to elicit a small, almost bittersweet smile from the Queen. "That is kind of you to say, but it will not come to that."
Laban nodded. "You still wish for me to walk you down the aisle?"
"Of course," Charlotte easily said. "I would find it a great comfort to have one so loyal by my side."
There came a knock on the chamber door. The guard stationed outside announced, "General Laban, Queen Charlotte, Miss Anna has returned."
"Let her in please," Charlotte said, sounding relieved. The stationary guard had been his and Owen's idea. It did stand to reason that there might be another attempt to abduct the Queen, or worse.
Not a second later, the door was opened and the face of the blonde girl appeared holding half a dozen flowers in her hand. "Forgive my tardiness, Queen Charlotte, but I couldn't exactly make up my mind of which would go best in your bouquet. Red is such a passionate color, but blue would bring out your eyes and your necklace. Green also seemed lively and the violet is such a rich, well, violet that I couldn't resist and - please forgive me, Your Highness. It isn't proper for a lady in waiting to cause you to stress on your own wedding day." On the contrary. It seemed that Anna was stressing out over this while Charlotte smiled softly at her companion.
"Thank you, Anna. I couldn't have asked for better." Charlotte took both the violet and blue flowers from the other girl and added them to her bouquet. She might have even added another flower of her own, or so Laban thought. "These look beautiful."
Anna sighed, knowing that she had done her task well. "As long as you're pleased with them, that's all I could ask for."
"Well, it will certainly be easier for you to spot now when our Queen tosses it after the ceremony," Laban lightly jested with the handmaiden.
"I have no earthly idea what you're referring to," Anna said with rosy cheeks. It was hard for the other two occupants not to share a brief chuckle at her reaction. It warmed Laban to see his Queen happy, to give a genuine laugh with a warm smile on her face. Griffith had better do everything possible in his power to make sure she stayed that way until she was old and grey.
charlotte quieted her chuckle and her face turned to a more neutral smile. "Will you help me with my hair then, Anna?"
"Of course. I thought that you would never ask. How would you like it?" Anna asked sitting Charlotte back down in the chair facing her mirror. "Are you planning on keeping it down and free or all done up?"
"Some of both, I admit. I know I definitely want two bangs to frame my face. The rest can be done in braids and tied behind in a bun."
Anna ran Charlotte's princess curls through her hands. "Seems a bit simple for an occasion such as this. I can do so much with your hair, you know."
"I do," Charlotte admitted. "But even if it is simple, Griffith should love me for me, not just how I look or what I hold. How else would I know if not for an honest approach?"
As Anna continued to work with Charlotte's hair, another knock came from the door.
"General Owen is here, sir," the vigil announced.
"I understand," Laban replied. "Your Highness, would you mind if Owen were to join us?"
"Not at all," the Queen answered as Anna began to tie most of her hair behind her head.
The door opened and the blonde knight stepped in. He and Laban exchanged a nod and a friendly knock of their armguards. "I do hope that I'm not interrupting anything."
"It is customary that only the groom not see a bride before the wedding, is it not?" Charlotte asked, strangely rhetorically. "I do not mind your presence here, good sir."
Owen bowed with a small smile present. "It pleases me to see you in good spirits. My men and I have done another sweep of the palace, we haven't found anyone sneaking about." He cast a look over to Laban like there was more he wanted to tell him. "Of course, I suspect some unconventional methods might have been used in the infiltration. That didn't seem to stop you though, Miss Anna. It was you who discovered the intruder was it not?"
"If that's how you want to phrase it," Anna said, not missing a beat while she fixed up the Queen's hair. "I come back to check up on her highness after a few hours and find this young man standing there. All I did was scream, it was your men who apprehended him. And it best not to talk about it now considering how inappropriate the whole ordeal was."
Owen nodded in apology and Laban looked to Charlotte's expression in the mirror. Her expression seemed to have saddened but there was still a hopeful light in her eyes. It was indeed distasteful to bring up mention of the intrusion even if nothing came of it. The culprit and Queen Charlotte insisted that he had not touched or harmed her. If he had, his head would be in a basket right now. They had gotten lucky that in the three-hour span Charlotte was alone after Anna left the first time that no harm had befallen her.
"It is in the past now," Charlotte calmly spoke up. "But... I am curious. What has happened to the intruder?"
"Your Highness?" Owen asked.
"I ask to grant myself peace of mind. What has become of him?"
Not about to refuse the Queen, Owen answered, "He is locked in a cell in the lower levels. I visited him earlier this morning to interrogate information out of him. Would you like to know what he told me?"
"If you tell, I shall listen," Charlotte replied.
"His name is Harry Potter," Owen began. "As it turns out, he has a history with our esteemed Lord Griffith. He used to serve in the original Band of the Hawk and I last saw him while I was in Vritannis. He was traveling with the former Raiders Captain turned Black Swordsman." Laban's eyes widened at the name. He had heard the rumors of the man who left devastation in his wake. "But he seems to have come here on his own for reasons still unknown."
Once more, Laban observed Charlotte's reaction in the mirror. She looked neither surprised or expected. She sat there with a neutral face. "Ah, I see. Thank you for uncovering some truth into this matter. And thank you, Anna, for doing my hair." Her hair was done to her exact specification. "Would you mind running and obtaining a roll and some fruit for me? From what I've been told, I'll rarely get a chance to eat at my reception and I don't want to get dizzy walking down the aisle and trip."
"I understand, Your Highness. I'll return shortly." Anna hiked her dress up around her heels as she scurried to go and carry out the Queen's request.
"Is there anything else we might be of your assistance?" Laban politely asked. This was to be her day. Any request, no matter how obscure, would be met.
She seemed to ponder her reply. "There is one thing I was forgetting and I hope it would be of no hassle despite how mad it might sound."
"You need only name it, Your Highness," both Laban and Owen dedicated their services to the young queen.
She seemed very relieved. "Very well. And thank you. Both of you."
He wasn't hungry.
He hadn't been fed since he had been arrested, the last meal having been back at Luca's place. But much like his bodily need for sleep, Harry felt none of the compulsions to consume anything. Even if he was hungry, he doubted that he would eat it. Doing so would be akin to accepting a hand-out from the same being who had forfeited not only his life but the lives of everyone else he had cared for as well.
It was a pretty stupid decision on his end to do so considering he was to be pitted against Voldemort by tomorrow at the latest and he would need all the energy that he could get. But no one had stopped by since Owen had visited, no meal had been dropped off and thankfully the torturer had not returned either. He was just left here all on his own.
Or he would have been.
From down the cell ward near the only door in or out, the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. Maybe someone was being sent to check up on him, to make sure he wasn't up to any sort of trouble. They would be in for a disappointment.
Those thoughts were quickly squashed when he could discern the guards' voice from the other side saying, "You-you're not permitted to- uh..."
Creekraa!
The door opened and closed with a meticulous groan on the hinges sounding like they were about to be torn off. Harry sat up straighter on the cot, a sense of curiousness and suspense raced through his body as the footsteps got ever closer to where his cell was at the end of the ward.
When the footsteps stopped and Harry's newest visitor appeared in front of the bars of his cell, he was grateful for the separation, not that it would matter too much if this was to be anything less than an exchange of words.
Harry debated if he should speak first or not, it couldn't hurt his chances - well, it could, but if he knew anything about the one standing just past his cell bars with a neutral expression, it was that he would see the strength and conviction behind him if he did.
"You're... not who I was expecting," Harry said after a long, bated breath.
His visitor observed the state he was in. "And what were you expecting to happen?" his heavy voice was a low knife cutting through the dark. "You made me reconsider you - a human I was starting to hold to high standards. You must have been desperate to come here as you did." His cat-like eyes held traces of cruel mirth. "Was I wrong about you?"
Harry felt an involuntary clenching of his fist on the sheets beneath him. "Is that why you let me go before? You knew that I was there."
"I did not know that it was you, but who else could it have been?" the apostle asked rhetorically. "Certainly not the one I have grown to respect. Such stealth is not the way of a warrior such as him. It had to had to have been you or the woman who is his mate."
"And you would have done the same for either of them?" Harry asked. So far, Zodd had yet to directly threaten him but they both knew that the bars would not hold him back if he wanted to maul him at any second. It didn't seem in the apostles' nature to have idle talks, but if he wasn't here to main Harry, he could at least try to figure out his action from the day previous on the bridge.
"For the woman, yes. Not for the Black Swordsman." Zodd casually answered the question. "Does that give you any indication as to why I let you pass?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, if only slightly. "You would have fought him in there and then."
He received an affirmative, "Hm," in response. "I perceived you as the more empathetic one."
"And you know what empathy is?" Harry almost challenged.
That actually seemed to elicit the closest thing Harry had seen to a toothy grin on the apostle when he wasn't fighting. "Time has faded many things, but the smallest of traces still remain. I would have continued with my fight against my old rival that day of the Eclipse if he had not returned with the three of you wounded. A pointless victory it would have been. But the Black Swordsman, he would have understood."
"Understood what exactly?" Harry cautioned.
"Think, Wizard. What have you seen in this city, what have you been told of it?"
"Aside from this palace and that sphere of madness, it's a place of safety for humans." And it seemed to click with Harry. "And you hate that."
Zodd gave what might have been a throaty chuckle. "So easily they forget how this paradise of theirs sprang up into existence. They forget the feeling of survival for complacency. These people - their Queen especially rely on the strength and ability of others that they would live as parasites. Do you understand now, Wizard? You coming here would have been the spark for a true fight ahead. If you had succeeded in your goal to capture that girl, it would have been the best thing to happen to this city."
Harry took pause to see the wild gleam that seemed to have ignited in the apostle's eyes. "And is that why you've come? Are you turning against the God Hand?"
"I still value strength and the White Hawk is the strongest there is," Zodd shot down the notion. "I care little for him or his plan but I find it strange that you would ask that of me when my old rival is your ally." What did Skull Knight have to do with this? Zodd noticed the confusion. "Has he not told you?" it sounded like the dryest of scoffs. "Months ago, he came to me to talk.*"
"About what?"
"The very same girl you came here for. Perhaps some semblance of familial bong exists within him. I would not be betraying the Hawk by simply watching her, seeing if she possessed the same mettle that those of her family had long ago. I was not as disappointed as I should have been." Harry said nothing. "He spoke words of promise that if any of you were to succeed in your endeavor that the battle that I yearned for would come to fruition."
"You might still be getting that, won't you?" Harry asked. "Me being here is cause enough, isn't it?"
Zodd's red cat-like eyes stared down at Harry's bright green. He turned to leave. "I have no doubt that you'll overcome the one who pursues you. That would be a match I would watch without contempt. And for that, you have my thanks, Wizard." His heavy footsteps seemed quieter as he left. The door slamming shut was all that was left.
"It's almost time! It's almost time!" a happy Elize practically bounced around on her feet.
Charlotte found it hard not to smile at the younger girl. She had so much energy about her today that she could not contain it, maybe imagining the day her own wedding would come. The young Queen knew that feeling all too well herself and could not blame Minister Foss' daughter at all. It sent an almost aching feeling through Charlotte that she found herself wishing that she should've made the dress a bit looser.
"Calm yourself, Elize," Minister Foss lightly scolded his daughter. "You have been given a very important job for today and you wouldn't want to disappoint the Queen, would you?"
Elize stopped her fidgeting. "Sorry, father."
She had been assigned the duty as lead flower girl for the ceremony. Being Foss' daughter and one of Charlotte's favorite young ladies, she was given the task upon request. They were currently gathered in Charlotte's chambers, waiting for the moment they were to walk down to the main ceremony hall for the proceedings to begin. Even from here, she could already hear some of the music making its way up along the labyrinth of corridors as the band entertained the assembled guests and practiced until her arrival.
"I'm glad to see you so full of joy, Elize," Charlotte told the young maiden. "I could benefit from seeing such emotion."
Elize's smile faltered a bit. "Are you not happy, Your Highness? You're to be married today." Minister Foss seemed to perspire a little from nerves.
"I suppose I just feel a little overwhelmed is all. I've envisioned how this day would happen many times over, but now... it is finally here." Charlotte picked up her bouquet and firmly grasped the stems and adjusted the flowers and content within so everything was tuckered in place. "But... when I hear him speak, to give his answer when asked, maybe I'll find a better peace of mind."
No one quite knew what to say to her, and she did not blame them for such. She didn't even really know if she could say anything to herself either. But right now with Elize, Minister Foss, Sirs Laban and Owen, and Anna, she was not alone. For that she was grateful. It made it feel easier.
The sound of the music coming from down below got louder, signaling as a cue almost that everyone was ready and waiting.
"Are you ready then, Your Highness?" Laban asked her. "You are ready to proceed?"
"It would be improper to keep the guests waiting," Charlotte answered as they made ready to file out. Her legs which had started to feel all tingly and cold now felt like as if they were connected to strings. They moved seemingly on their own following behind Elize and her basket of flowers while Charlotte kept a firm hold of her own with her white-gloved hands.
Step by step they walked down, each one carrying them closer to the ceremony on such a beautiful and impossible day. She was glad she had not forgotten about her thin veil. How impossible it would be without it.
Even from a place as low as the dungeon, Harry could hear the music playing from up above. It was good music, but it seemed more akin to a taunt to him than anything else. An anthem of victory rather than something that ought to be played at a wedding. But honestly, what else could he expect from Neo-Griffith? Harry found it hard not to roll his eyes at the thought despite being alone in his cell once again.
His thoughts drifted to Guts, Casca, Schierke and the rest that remained behind at Doldrey. as far as he knew, Farnese and the rest were still alive and unhindered, they were able to mentally communicate with everyone else and let them know how things were going. Well, for them, at least.
With his gear confiscated, he would first have to find a way to bust out of here to get to it, maybe send a Patronus if it was strong enough to carry a message or even take a full form. It was something that he had given a fair bit of thought to considering that was all he currently could do while stuck here. He considered his options and decided that there was probably only one real way he could get out of here, but even then it was out of his hands.
That didn't mean that it wasn't a possibility, he just wasn't sure how likely it was to happen. It would have been a sudden decision and he would have to move fast if he did get out because of it. If it actually came to fruition, of course.
"What are you doing here?"
The sudden voice caught him off guard, but he thought he did well to hide his shock. The voice came not from the bars that separated him the outside ward, but from the bars on the wall that separated him from the outside.
Standing there - or rather, floating there was a girl with an antenna on her head above a pair of large bug-like eyes that complemented her green bioluminescent skin tone. An almost child-like pout was on her face that seemed more mature than it should have.
Harry blinked neutrally as he regarded the girl he had encountered once before.
"I could ask you the same thing, Rosine."
"I asked you first," the young apostle countered, showing her immature side along with it.
"Do you honestly care?" Harry asked looking up at her insect-like face. "Or are you just here to gloat?"
Rosine seemed to blink with her insect eyes. "Gloat about what? I didn't catch you. Even if I had found you, I would've-," Rosine stopped herself and glared off to the side.
"'Would've' what?" Harry pressed, not really caring about her answer either way. He was just curious.
"Forget it," Rosine dismissed. "You still haven't told me why you're here."
"And again, do you really care?" he tried to place a motive to her being here.
Rosine seemed to shrug. "I'm bored. And if you really want to know, I'm asking for myself. It seems fitting for me to act selfish, doesn't it?"
Looking at her now, she didn't seem to hold any ill will toward him at the moment. Sure, she seemed miffed that he had yet to answer her, but he saw none of that crazed looked she had back at the Misty Valley. She almost seemed... empty.
"I guess I wanted to change things," Harry finally answered. "All the bad that happened, all that is going to happen, I wanted to change it."
"And so you came to the most hostile place for you to go? Great plan, dummy."
"What? You don't think I didn't consider it might turn out like this for me?" Harry asked her with a bit of fire. "I honestly thought I would be dead right now so I'm doing better than what I thought."
"You could still be on your way to being dead," Rosine said as she rested her chin in her palm.
"And are you going to go against the wishes of your master and kill me then?" Harry asked, seemingly surprising her. "You know, I actually felt pretty sorry for you back then. From what Jill told me, your past wasn't too different from my own. Part of me hoped you would have just given up and tried to live like a regular girl somewhere. Guess you proved me wrong."
"He isn't my master!" Rosine quietly shouted at him. "You're not an apostle, you can refuse his call. You don't know me or what it's like at all. If I honestly had a choice, do you think I would be here where I don't belong? Do you think I wouldn't want to live life as I intend?"
"I don't know what it's like, huh?" Harry repeated. "Do you think I don't know that pull he has about him? The feeling he gives off like he always knows what's going on? I know him better than you do." He was standing up now, standing directly in front of the bars that separated the two of them. Rosine honestly looked a bit taken aback by the look he was giving her. "Think I know now?"
Rosine's already large eyes seemed to have gotten a bit wider before she composed herself once more. "I think... I think that you're a hypocrite." She let it sink in. "Yeah. Yeah, you are! You were just going on about how you were similar to me, but you said you hoped I would have just lived a normal life? Well, look at you! Here you are trying to 'change everything' or some trash. You can't get away from this life any more than I can! You... you deserve whatever comes your way because of this, idiot!"
She was scared. Scared that he was right all along. But like the immature girl she was, she would not admit it.
"Maybe you're right then," Harry conceited.
That came as a twist to Rosine. "What?"
"I said, maybe you're right," Harry repeated himself. "No matter what I say or do, there are just things that I'll never be able to change. People's minds are one of them as I recently figured out. The only one who could change yours is you. Now, I really don't feel like arguing with you, so you win. You're right."
Rosine just hovered there, staring at him. Her mouth was trembling like she was debating to shout at him or not but couldn't seem to make up her mind. Her brow was furrowed as well and her eyes seemed to have forgotten how to move. She finally found her resolve. "Yeah, well-,"
She stopped talking. Her eyes that had once been frozen still were now all jittery and jolting about. Rosine looked terrified. Backing away from the bars, Rosine spread her wings and took flight. Harry didn't hear the gust of wind until she had gone.
Harry wondered what had caused the apostle girl to fly off in such a manner. He had clearly been getting under her skin, but he hadn't pegged her for so much of a child that she would up and walk away when things weren't going exactly how she wanted them to. She hadn't even come here to be openly hostile either. Much like Zodd had previously, she just seemed curious about him and his presence.
So what was it? What could have been the cause of her behavior just now? It could have been that Rosine was more attune to it, but Harry felt what it was not a second later.
Despite not having his staff on hand, he still had enough practice to sense the presence of od around him. Above, he could feel a mass gathering of people for the soon-to-be wedding. But from the sides, he felt only a cold shiver that not even the dementors from his world could possibly hope to rival.
The shadows around his cot seemed to be molding themselves, taking the shape of a humanoid being lying on its side. The wings protruding from the back seemed almost natural with the expression on the face as if they had always been there.
"This is a treat. Seeing you again after what feels like years. I confess myself saddened that I could not observe all of your doings."
Slan.
Unlike the two apostles, Harry did not speak back to this presence. Anger had a part to play in the reason why, but he also felt his voice would crack if he tried.
Her expression seemed to soften almost and she would have looked quite beautiful if he had been ignorant of her personality. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You appeared so at ease talking to that girl just now. Do I make you nervous?"
The lump in his throat went down with great difficulty and he tried to look anywhere but at the God Hand lying on the cot. "...Get out."
"'Get out?' Is that all? You're not even going to ask how we're here at all? Tsk. I'm disappointed."
We're? Harry wondered as he felt a pair of eyes boring into the back of his head.
He whipped around to the side, not wanting to turn his back on Slan. Floating upside down behind him was the blue grinning face and glasses of Ubik, the smallest and most impish of the God Hand.
"His mind has the question he is yet to speak, Slan. Can't you see it written on his face?"
"If he did indeed know everything about Falconia, he would not have come." This voice was deeper and more hollow. Rising from the floor was a plump figure with closed eyes and a gaping mouth. Conrad had emerged as well. Harry was now locked with three out of the five God Hand members.
"You are right, of course," Slan agreed with her companion. "I'll take a gamble with this one as he has become one of my favorites. Unlike Femto, we were not reincarnated into this world. Just confined to the city"
"But with the World Tree, travel from our world to this one is now open," Conrad continued.
"Where the tree exists, so do we," Ubik impishly finished.
"So where's Void?" Harry found the courage to ask. The God Hand usually stayed together.
Slan playfully rolled her eyes. "He couldn't be bothered with such a trivial matter and you needn't worry about it either."
"Kukuku!" Ubik chuckled as he floated around the cell. "You should be concerned about yourself, young wizard." Ubik was suddenly right in front of his face, his glasses shining with white light and Harry stepped back until his back was at the wall and unable to avoid the hovering God Hand.
As hard as Harry tried to avert his gaze from the dangerously dazzling light coming from Ubik's lenses, his eyes seemed to almost force themselves open and he was drawn in not too different to how his pensieve works.
He was a child again.
Sitting with his knees to his chest and wearing oversized clothing that he was practically swimming in if he were to move. A single lightbulb hung above his head, illuminating the particles of dust that floated in the cramped cupboard beneath the stairs.
This is where he was? Back here?
He could hear voices coming from the other side of the cupboard door. His body which felt much weaker now pressed his ear against the thin piece of wood.
"Oh, Petunia, Marge is ill. She'll be needing someone to watch her dogs for a few days."
That voice. He distinctly recalled that voice. It belonged to a bully walrus of a man; Vernon Dursley.
"How terrible," a woman's voice sounded. "Does she intend for us to take them in?" Even though Harry could not see her, he knew it belonged to the horse-faced Petunia Dursley.
"None of her neighbors will take them," Vernon said. "So sad. Now we'll have them to deal with along with the boy." He said the word boy with contempt like it was more of a mandatory chore than anything else.
"Could Figg perhaps watch for a few days?" Petunia offered.
"I'm not sure how the dogs would get on with all the cats she has," Vernon dismissed.
"No, the boy, not the dogs," Petunia also said boy like it was a disease. Although hers sounded more worried then it was contempt.
"Hm. I suppose so," Vernon mulled the thought over. "We have Dudley's birthday coming up this week and if he's having friends over after I don't want that freak ruining things for our son's big day."
There was the name of "freak." He remembered now, that was the other favorite name they had called him by.
"At what age did you even know your real name? Wasn't it once the teacher called your name in school?" an unseen voice whispered into his ear. Harry turned to see only a spider in its web. There was no shortage of those in the cupboard with him.
"I'm sure Figg wouldn't mind the company," Petunia affirmed the idea. "She needs someone to help her with that litter of hers. And her grass is getting much too high, it's drawing the attention of all the neighbors, but nothing a little hard work can't fix."
"You were only nine here, correct?" the same voice spoke again. He didn't answer.
"That's... just the way it always was," Harry said to himself more than anything else.
"Always was.
"And still is."
Looking back, Harry saw that the spider and the web were changing, growing into the shapes of Ubik and Conrad.
"A young life with only neglect," Conrad voiced.
"Hidden in the shadows, cast aside and forgotten," Ubik continued.
"Is it any reason as to why you are how you are?" Conrad asked.
"You claim to want to change the flow of causality when all you really desire is to be recognized," Ubik spoke. "To be a hero of your own path when doing so is as selfish as can be. Is it any wonder as to why we came close to offering you to become our apostle?"
"Deny as you may, you embody the same traits that every apostle," Conrad spoke again.
Ubik's glasses flashed again and Harry found himself staring at a blad, obese man with what had to be his wife and daughter. "Justice." The wife disappeared and the man was now a slug apostle with two maws and eye stalks protruding from the side of his head.
Another flash and he saw a young squire get unhorsed by a lance. His dark locks were dirty and coated with sweat and dirt. "An idle version." The squire was a seated knight now, his locks were in perfect order on his stoic face.
Again it happened. Harry was staring at an old man lay dying in a dirty gutter somewhere. "To feel alive." The man was younger now and had a wild look in his eye as he pulled a woman onto his lap.
Once more. He saw a man slumped against the wall of a tavern in the woods. Bloody bandages covered his eyes. "To be skilled." The man now held a bow in his hands. his eyes a milky white color.
The next time Harry was staring at a gathering of people in furs and leathers around a fire. Three kids, two boys, and a girl ran toward a muscular man who sat next to a woman who smiled. "Never able to have complacency." The camp was on fire now. The bodies of all the people were littered with arrows. Only one now stood. The fire matched his eyes and in the distance, a lion roared.
Now he was staring at a girl with a bruised face. "The need of acceptance." A glowing light flew across the night sky.
It changed yet again and he found himself in a hall whose ceiling seemed to reflect the sky above. "Slytherin!" a voice called out as a hat was placed on the head of a dark-haired boy. "To change the world." He was in a room with a hooded man as a wand was pointed at a red-headed woman standing in front of a crib.
And then he was looking at himself. An infant version of himself lying in a crib with a lightning scar on his head, the body of the woman on the floor, a huge chunk of the ceiling had been blasted away. Flashforward and he was wrapped in a blanket with a note on top as he was placed on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive. He was back to being in the cupboard, then he was adorning the sigil of the Band of the Hawk. He was seeing himself all the way up to where he was now.
Locked in a cell within Falconia.
"It is the truth, your truth," Conrad voiced out.
"And what makes yours so much different than the rest?" Ubik inquired.
"You'd make a fine apostle," Slan purred. "Far better than your rival. As handsome as he is, he is too single-minded. Your swordsman friend is much the same, but his flare burns much brighter. But our attempts to sway you would be in vain. You'd refuse our offer. That's what makes it so tempting."
"Did you all come here just to torment me?" Harry asked, turning so he could keep all three in his line of sight. "To show me these visions? My answer would still be no."
"We come to offer truth as we always have," Conrad voiced.
"The truth that the strength and belief of human spirit could never trump causality," Ubik added with a sick cackle before he and Conrad began to fade into the shadows.
Slan remained a bit longer as she met his gaze. "They're right, you know. As fun as you are, even you subscribe to a doomed fate. But should you ever reconsider..." she gave a wink that seemed to linger even as she vanished too. It wasn't until then that Harry's breathing caught up with him and he collapsed to his knees.
She could feel every breath that she took as the sight of the ceremony hall doors got ever nearer. They were slow, collected, but deep when they needed to be. Her dress which had felt tight around the sides previously, no longer felt that way, but she thought that her breath might rattle at one point. Her escorts whispered words of encouragement to her. The, "you look beautiful," and the, "you look like a goddess," were the ones that she kept hearing the most. Maybe they were true, but she doubted that a goddess could possibly feel this way.
They stopped short of the entry doors and an attendant outside quickly ran in to make the announcement that they had arrived at last. It was a very telling sign once the music picked up to a slower, more romantic tone and the voices of the assembled guests ceased. With the beat of the music, Charlotte found her heart had adopted a similar pattern. She could feel the organ pounding against her chest.
Between that and her breathing, she felt almost at peace.
Two very nervous signs and she felt at peace.
She attributed it to her knowing how this would end, or at least how she pictured it in her mind. The day she had dreamed of for so long, she knew exactly what it was she had to do.
The doors began to open and the light from inside seemed to spill out, enveloping them in its captivating embrace. The music, which had sounded a bit distant from the barrier was now gone and its sweet sound danced in her ears. The mellow tune had an almost upbeat happy feeling to it that put a smile to the faces of every guest present as she listened to the joyous melancholy.
From the doors standing and sitting were people she had never even seen before. Men, women, and children too, there was a spot in the back for young and old alike. They must have been commoners from the city itself as the invitation was an open one. If you lived in the city, you were welcome to come. It was something meant to reflect Griffith's own background and symbolize the unity of all of humanity. Having come from a poorer background, this ceremony would most likely be the highlight of their lives filled with unchanging ignorance.
There are so many.
And there were. Not one seat was left vacant in the back section. Some were even standing behind lines of guards to get a look at her. She must have been the desire of every man there and the aspiration of every little girl. Even if that is what she herself desired, she felt their stares empty but not due to any prejudice she had to those of a different class.
They all expect so much from me now. Will they be disappointed? I would. I would've.
Owen stopped following, staying behind at the entrance with his men and to make sure no unwanted party was to come and crash the ceremony. He had nothing to worry about there.
Elize went ahead of her with her basket full of flowers and started laying petals down on the white carpet that led down the aisle and to the altar. Minister Foss walked with his daughter and smiling in seeming delight for perhaps the first time Charlotte had known him in all his years of service.
So strange how I'm just now seeing it. Has it always been like that?
Sir Laban was at her side still. Walking her down the aisle as the guests rose from their seats to get a proper look at their Queen. There were still just so many of them here. As someone who had helped map out the design of the ceremony hall, she didn't seem to recall adding this many rows just to the back itself. They were barely three rows in yet it felt as if she had walked a mile.
"There she is!"
"You see her, dear?"
"So beautiful!"
The music was still playing, but she could still hear the whispering that was emerging from the crowd. But her mind was hardly focused on what they were saying about her. It would all just be derivative from what she had already been told beforehand.
Anna was already starting to cry in joy if her light sniffles from behind were anything to go by. She shouldn't cry over this.
More people still watching her make the trek down the aisle. She was keeping her eyes focused straight ahead but it was hard not to take in the appearances of people she had never met now watching her. There were people with long flowing hair, short and stout old men, three blondes and a dark man, war veterans, just about someone from every background.
Her legs were carrying her toward the center of the rows now. My legs feel fine. Silly considering that they felt so weak not too long ago. But... I don't feel that anymore now that I'm so close.
She saw Kushans who surrendered after the war had ended, people from other nations gathered as dignitaries. She had heard of all their countries before, been required to know all of them. But now, she couldn't put a name to any of their homes if she tried her hardest.
My mind doesn't feel hazy at all though. I feel new. Should I? Is this how it feels?
They were nearing the front rows now, the ones filled with the most important people in the city. They were surviving nobles from Midland, Chuder, and every other country. There were knights there as well, generals, other military officials and some of the priests of the Holy See.
All so important. And here I am.
To the right, past the row of Holy See officials near the wall was the pristine Sir Locus standing at attention near the wall. He seemed to give her a nod of acknowledgment. She paid it little mind as her eyes were then drawn toward a figure farther away, leaning behind one of the pillars. The side glance from that cat-eye did not fill her with dread this time. It was more she felt neither good or bad that he was watching.
It matters not what he thinks of me right now. I'm here. I've made my mind.
At the altar stood the High Pontiff, the Head of the Holy See and the highest religious figure in the land. The man was old, impossibly so. Charlotte had seen him plenty of times around before, and each time surprised her at how he was actually able to stand up on his own. Even now, he was grasping at the altar with his wrinkled, spotted hands to keep his weak knees from giving out. His bloodhound eyes filled with mirth as he spotted her approach and his mouth opened for a near-toothless smile to greet her.
She didn't extend the same gesture, just a polite close-lipped smile was enough. She didn't bow her head at all. She was still the Queen. But for the High Pontiff's haggard appearance, Charlotte was greeted by a sight that was far more comely as was unattainable.
Standing to the right of the altar stood the White Hawk, the Hawk of Light, leader of the Band of the Hawk and Savior of Humanity: Griffith.
His white and silver armor was as lavish and unspoiled as ever before. Polished to the point Charlotte could see her reflection and the reflection of everyone else in the room just by looking at his breastplate. His white cape hung perfectly from his shoulder clamps, not moving at all in an eerie stillness. His snowy white locks were done perfectly and gave off a scent of nightshade vanilla. There was no deadly saber at his hip today believing that this was a day of peace and joy. Her eyes were naturally drawn to his face which was a healthy pale complexion without a single physical flaw on the surface. His thin lips were pulled into a smile and his blue, slit-pupil eyes stalked her walk until she was on equal level with him at the altar.
"We've arrived, Your Highness," Laban whispered to her before sending a customary nod to Griffith. "I'll take my place then." He went to go stand to the left of the altar with Anna following in tow. It was now just her, Griffith and the High Pontiff standing there for all the hall to see.
"Queen Charlotte," the groom said so only those on the altar could hear.
"Lord Griffith," she extended as well. My voice sounds my own. It is not a whimper. Her hand not holding her bouquet pulled her veil back.
The High Pontiff let go of the altar so his frail arms could extend out wide. "Welcome all of you here today to witness the union of the White Hawk Griffith and Queen Charlotte Beatrix Marie Rhody Windham in blessed matrimony!"
"Blessed be unto them! Blessed be bestowed by God!" all devout Holy See members chanted the phrase in unison. Their voices were joined by those in the crowd who followed Holy See customs as well.
All of them are but scattered, but their belief holds them as one. They just believe. But I know. Or I will.
"May blessings fall to this man who will cherish and protect lady and state!" the High Pontiff continued. "May blessings fall to this woman who will carry loyalty and love and who might bear the noblest of heirs to continue to sit the throne! Offer up your prayers to God so that he might bestow a bright and prosperous future to these two lovers!"
A moment of silence followed as those in attendance bowed their heads and began to offer their prayers for the both of them. Prayers. Prayers hold power through belief. They believe in him? In me? My mind is sound, I know this now.
"You may all seat yourselves," the High Pontiff instructed as the guests sat down, intent to watch the rest of the wedding. "As customary of the Pontiff, it is my duty to offer both of my sincere congratulations to the couple. In my age, it is rare to witness miracles, but by following the path laid out by Lord Griffith, I've seen more miracles than any other in my position. My time spent as High Pontiff was one filled with repetition and the sprouting of words that once had no meaning to me. I doubted faith at one point until I saw the light. So, in my old age, I can give back one good thing before passing on." He smiled at both of them. "But none of you came here to hear the ramblings of an old man!" that elicited a few chuckles from the audience. "Let us proceed with the ceremony!"
He turned to face Griffith. "Lord Griffith, do you promise to cherish Queen Charlotte in every conceivable way?"
I know what his answer will be.
"I do," he swore.
"Do you promise to honor her, to protect her and shield her from any danger that might come her way?"
There need not be any more danger. But it is my place to determine that. It always has been.
"I do," he promised again.
"Do you promise to dedicate your life, your future to Queen Charlotte and the people and city of Falconia as its future king?"
I should not think of my once father now. But I can't help but do so. How am I still calm?
"I do," he said once more.
"Do you love Queen Charlotte for who she is and respect her wishes?"
I know who Griffith is. I know better than I did before.
"I do," another promise made.
"And do you take her to be your lawful wife bound together for eternity by God?"
"I do."
Now it is my turn.
"Queen Charlotte," the High Pontiff turned to her. "Do you promise to love and to cherish the man who is Lord Griffith in every conceivable way?"
...
Harry heard the noise coming from the upper levels and knew that the ceremony had already begun. He was still stuck in his cell but avoided the bed. The image of Slan on it made him prefer to keep to the floor instead.
The door opened and the guard came by with a tray of food which consisted of a sliced roll and some fruit. Not the worst that he could have imagined, but it wasn't as if he planned on eating it.
"Here you go," the guard said uncaringly as he slid the tray through the trap at the bottom of the door.
"I don't want anything the Hawk has to give me," Harry didn't touch it.
The guard kept walking away. "It isn't from Lord Griffith."
...
"I do," Charlotte said.
"Do you vow to faithfully stand by his side and to support him when times are both worst and best?"
...
Considering how his list of visits had been going so far, Harry figured there might have been some truth to what the guard just said. Neo-Griffith had already paid his visit. Maybe it was Sir Owen then. Even though Harry refused the man, he seemed far too honorable to let a prisoner go without a meal.
He picked up the apple and took a small bite, just to get a taste.
It was actually good.
...
"I do," she answered again.
"Do you promise to share in your power, to govern by his side faithfully for the good of Falconia, for humanity, and for God?"
...
He finished off the apple easily enough. His stomach was quite relieved that he finally provided it with some nutrition since being locked up. Harry picked up the sliced roll next. He was almost expecting another visitor to pop up at any moment.
...
"I do," Charlotte said once more.
"Do you love Love Griffith for who he is and vow to do all in your power to honor him?"
...
Harry took a bite into the roll.
And it was hard.
...
"I do," Charlotte promised once more.
...
Harry clutched at his teeth where they hurt. Just what the hell was that about?
...
"And do you take him to be your lawful husband and king by your power and the power of God above?"
"I don't."
...
Inside the roll was a set of keys.
...
"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you both... Queen Charlotte?" The realization was just dawning on the High Pontiff. "Did you hear me correctly? I asked if you would take Lord Griffith as your lawful husband and king by your power and the power of God above? Do you?"
"I don't," Charlotte repeated.
Silence. Complete stunted silence from the entirety of the ceremony hall.
All eyes were on here, she could feel the stares cast on here ranging from confusion from the attending nobles, uncertainty from those in the back, concern from Anna and a form of acceptance from Sir Laban. The High Pontiff just stood there, his wrinkled jowls quivering as he tried to form words. And then there was Griffith.
He stood still, his eyes meeting her own and his brow creased in the slightest bit of confusion and concern. It was a look so unfitting for him if only for the fact that he seemed unused to wearing that sort of expression.
"Queen Charlotte?" Griffith asked quietly. "Are you feeling alright?"
The High Pontiff let out a loose cough, finding his voice in the process. "Y-yes, Your Highness, are you sure all is well?"
"I feel fine." Even though I should feel scared, I can't seem to do it.
"Would you like if I, er, repeat the question again?" the High Pontiff was desperately confused.
"You can. But my answer is still, I don't."
There was whispering now amongst the masses. The quietest ones came from the nobles closest to the altar while the ones in the back seemed to be more frequent as they all wanted to know what was going on and what she was saying.
Griffith's mouth dipped to a small frown. "Queen Charlotte, might I ask why? We can postpone for a later date if that would put you to ease."
The High Pontiff's drooping eyes went back and forth between them. "Yes, would you settle for a postponement, Your Highness?"
She didn't acknowledge the older man, her eyes were only focused on the person standing across from her. "Lord Griffith, moments ago, you vowed to honor me in every conceivable way. Do you still hold true to that virtue?"
"Of course, I do," Griffith said with complete confidence.
"Then... would you do the honor of humoring me with a question that I have?" her voice almost faltered but she kept speaking.
Griffith's face seemed to lighten. "Any question that you have, I will answer truthfully. You need only ask, my Queen."
Charlotte felt her head nod. "Then please, tell me, what happened that day, the day of the Eclipse?"
With those words, his face became a cliffside, still and unmoving. He tried to compensate by allowing the smallest smile to grace his thin lips. "That day? The day that I lost my original followers? It is not a story for a day such as this."
"I hold you to your vow. Please tell me what happened." Her voice sounded distant and she knew it.
Griffith reached out a hand toward her but he drew it back thinking it futile. "Very well." His voice was low, just barely above a whisper. Only those on the altar could hear him say it. "I was in a desperate position on that day. I ran, believing myself to be worthless. When I crashed in the lake, I was found by who would become a Captain of the War Demons later on. He took me to heal my body, restore me to who I once was. That was before the storm touched down. The original Hawks got caught up in the funnel and many perished that day. I was eventually restored through the use of magic and the desire to fulfill the dream I once had." He cast his eyes down before they found hers once again. "Is that what you wanted to know?"
He sounded sincere. He looked almost sick when recalling that day and she felt a sense of nausea as well. "Thank you for telling me that." She closed her eyes as her head dipped down. She thought back to what had transpired yesterday. "But that is a lie."
"Anna?" she called the name of her handmaiden. She had heard the door open and then close again and assumed that the blonde girl had come back once more as she was one of the persons entrusted with a key to her room. But when she looked back to the door, she saw no one, not a single person stood there.
How strange. Getting up, Charlotte went to the door and twisted the nob and it came open. Had Anna perhaps forgot to lock it? Had she herself forgotten? With the wedding being held tomorrow she was becoming so single-minded that she seemed to be neglectful of the everyday things. How was it that other women managed to do this, to muster up the courage to walk down the waiting aisle and say those vows in front of all those people?
She wished that she knew more women who were married so she could ask for their advice. But outside of Anna, a still single maid, and Elize, barely out of childhood, her circle of female companions was rather lacking. Sure she had no end of servants and other women working under her, but none of them were married. In Midland society, it was considered a bit improper for an unmarried royal to be served by a married woman. Especially since maids usually married after their mistress was wed.
Her musings were interrupted by a creaking sound. Turning her head in the direction it came from, she saw that one of her window shutters had come open. Hadn't they been closed?
As she walked over to it, she got the most paranoid feeling that she was being watched right now. But any glance over her shoulder told her that she was completely alone. When she got the window she peeked outside. There was definitely no one out here, not unless they intended to climb all the way up. One look down let her know that was not the case at all.
Paranoia now, was that what she was starting to feel? She found herself missing Anna's company or anyone's company for that matter. She just needed some-
Klack.
Her head whipped around behind her, almost expecting to see another person there.
There was no one. The room was devoid of life, save for her.
That did very little to ease her feeling of paranoia. She got ready to yell for a guard to come to her but the only sound that escaped from her lips was, "Eh?"
Confusion. She had spotted something on her desk.
It was a rounded, silver basin filled with some strange liquid. It wasn't hers. Even in her seemingly confused state she would have remembered owning something like that or even placing in right next to the mirror where she had spent practically all day fussing over how she looked. Perhaps it belonged to Anna. She had been in here only moments ago to bring up a few things, maybe she had left this behind. Anna had even left saying she forgot something, was this it?
If it were the case, Charlotte smiled at her friend's forgetfulness. Here she was thinking she was losing her mind when Anna seemed to be in a similar state of mind. Just what was this thing anyhow?
She skimmed her finger along the rim of the basin, feeling its smooth surface. It might not have been hers, but it felt like it was made for royalty. The liquid inside seemed to be a soft orange color to reflect the setting of the sun. The warm hues drew her attention and she found herself staring down into the seemingly bottomless depths.
"How strange..."
Staring into it was to stare at a piece of art that had come to life. Feeling like her body was weightless and to fall down the rabbit hole and into a dreamland from someone else's mind.
How long was she staring into it? Long enough for it to actually be sunset.
But it is only a few hours past noon.
She was outside.
No, she was in her room. She was in the palace.
"An eclipse. I didn't know one was supposed to happen today."
That voice. That was...
Charlotte turned to see herself. A younger version of herself by a few years. Anna was there too as was a boy with messy black hair and brilliant emerald eyes behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Above them, a dark shadow was moving to eclipse the sun.
"Yeah," the boy said as his eyes averted from the sight above.
This... this had already happened. Yes. She remembered that day. Had she perhaps fallen asleep and started dreaming back? She must have.
The boy grabbed the reins to his horse and made ready to ride off in the direction of the eclipse.
Where was he going?
"Where are you going?" her other version asked. "We were told to stay here."
"I know that," the boy said frantically. "I just need to check on them. I'll be right back, I promise."
Anna was frightened. "But... what if a group of bandits comes by when you're gone? We have no ways of defending ourselves." The boy tossed her a dagger. "What's this about?"
To defend yourselves. If any trouble comes up, try and scare it off or just run to find us." He must have known how uncertain they looked. "Look, I'll be gone five minutes at most, I'll come back and I won't be alone. Just stay here for now." He took off with haste.
What was he thinking? Back then she had been too nervous to think herself, but now, it seemed like a foolish move. Even if they had one weapon, neither of them was a fighter. And if they had run to join with them, they would have died as well. But she was there with Anna, safe from the doom of the coming storm.
Only she wasn't.
What?
She was instead following the boy as he left the two of them behind. She didn't have a mount of her own, but the scene seemed to change to reflect the passing of distance until they came upon a lake. A figure was on his knees next to a fallen tree. His thin body was wrapped in gauze and a hawk-helm was in place on his head.
"Griffith?" her voice sounded distorted like she didn't belong here.
"Griffith!" a muscle man shouted. It took her a moment, but he was the Raiders Captain.
Blood was dripping down a wound Griffith had gotten on his neck, running down his arm and to a red trinket that hung from his fingers. The distorted facial features seemed to rearrange until they made a fully formed face. It was creepy the way it seemed to cry tears of blood as the mouth opened to let out a chilling cry.
"BWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
What was that?
"What is that?" the sole female Hawk observed humanoid figures standing across the lake staring at them.
"Everyone!" the boy called as he met up with them.
"Harry?" the female called his name as the scene changed once again. The lake, the grass, even the sky was gone save for the eclipse.
In place of what was normal was a pattern of red faces that spanned as far as her eyes could see. The sockets were either closed or hollow and the mouths moved to release screams that never came. The black sun seemed more an eye now as it watched them like insects.
"This is a dream. I've fallen asleep. This isn't real."
But it was real to the Band of the Hawk. They panicked, yelled, cried as the hellish landscape that they found themselves in now. And it only got worse.
One of the faces seemed to rise up out of the ground, the face of a beautiful woman whose hair seemed to resemble snakes in a certain light. Her breasts were bare and a pair of black wings sprouted from her back to barely cover her indecency. If she were human, she would have been an even greater beauty.
From above a swirl of faces blended together to form an impishly grinning head on a stout body with little tentacles. It cackled as it circled around them and even though it could not touch her, Charlotte felt her skin crawl in revulsion.
From the ground again, a mound of faces piled together to pop out in the form of a plump man who partly resembled Minister Foss. But aside from being plump and bald, this being had a wide, gaping mouth and closed eyes and seemed anything but caring.
And from the black sun, a shadow seemed to leak out like a dark waterfall. He was the tallest amongst them, clad in a leathery high popping collar robe. His hands held six digits on them and the skin around his mouth seemed to have been peeled back and pinned in place. His eyes were sewn shut and his brain seemed to have grown too large as it protruded from his skull. He radiated the most power and Charlotte felt an unexplainable pull toward this one despite wanting to be as far from him as possible.
But her legs would not work.
"I... I've gone mad if I'm dreaming this."
"The time has come for the blessing. In this, our final chapter, the final destination. The final days draw near for our sacred children. Enjoy this hallow feast in all its glory." His voice was like an endless pit that extended down to her very soul. He pointed one of his six fingers down at her - no, at Griffith. "And you, our disciple, you are chosen. Here and now appointed by God's one hand. We are your brothers, and you, our new blessed kin."
They... meant to make Griffith into one of them? That was absurd! She saw Griffith just yesterday and he looked nothing like any of these monsters!
The seductress spoke. "He will be reborn in exchange for all of you, but only of his own choosing."
This was wrong. This was all wrong! Griffith would never. "He wouldn't..."
"Bring forth the altar!" the one with the gaping mouth said and the ground Griffith was on lifted up until a giant hand rose up to touch the black sun.
The brain man started speaking. "We are four. Conrad, Ubik, Slan, and Void." Names to put to those abominations. She wanted to look away, but her eyes were drawn up to those sewn sockets. The ground seemed to rumble and the hand began to close around Griffith's broken form.
"Griffith!" she cried.
"Time to administer the brand." A glowing green symbol appeared in Void's hand and turned red as it shot out in all directions down to the Band of the Hawk.
They could not run, they could not fight. They were branded, each and every one of them. The symbol struck the woman on her collar bone, struck the Raiders Captain on the right side of his neck. It struck Harry on the left side for him and Charlotte feared one might strike her as well. She was spared that fate.
It was only after that point that things got truly horrific. The people who had been watching the event began transforming before her very eyes. They all grew in size, some sprouting horns, others tails, fangs, claws, limbs, and they began advancing on the Hawks. But the worst thing about it was... she recognized some of them.
During the battle with Emperor Ganishka, some of these War Demons had been there. They had fought alongside humanity when they needed it most bu now, they were attacking Griffith's friends. Why? What reason would they have to...
"Griffith...?" her eyes went up to the closed hand.
She did not want to see what happens to them. She did not want to see them murdered and... she didn't. It was as if the scene had become clouded, obscuring her view of things to filter out the horrors that had happened. But the scene that was visible to her next was not a relieving one at all and she felt herself growing sick from just looking at it.
The sole woman seemed to be unconscious and hung suspended by her limbs in a degrading way. She had been stripped of her armor but some altered fog hid her indecency from her eyes. Two figures struggled to reach her. The Raider had his left arm in the maw of a War Demon and Harry had claws sinking into his right leg. The War Demons laughed at them.
"This... this is..." how was she still able to talk.
Before anything else could happen, a rumble sounded and everything came to a halt. The giant fist was opening up to reveal a figure kneeling down in the palm. The War Demons began to chant. "Our prince. Our fifth blessed prince. Void, Slan, Ubik, Conrad, and now, the Wings of Darkness. Femto."
The being that came down was not Griffith. It had the same style helmeted head and pale skin underneath, but the eyes were red with slit pupils. Pupils like Griffith has now.
"S-stop this." She saw where this was going. "Stop! I don't want to be here! Stop! I want this to end!"
"So do I." A new voice.
Charlotte averted her gaze as fog obscured the horrific event and she found herself facing Harry - or, Harry as he was now. He had grown taller and leaner and his emerald eyes seemed extremely sad.
"Wh-what is this? How are we here?"
"This is a memory. My memory. The day Griffith became Femto."
"A... memory. A dream, you mean."
"I wish that it was. The fog was me tampering with it, editing out certain parts that I didn't want anyone to see. I was hoping against showing you this, it was a gamble on my end. But if you knew the truth, maybe then you'd be persuaded to listen to what I have to say."
She should have questioned him right then and there. It had been a few years since she last saw this person. But in the heat of all that she had just witnessed, she said, "I'll listen! Just... please! Get us out of here! I don't want to be here! Please!" Tears stung her eyes. "Please..."
Charlotte felt a comforting hand on her shoulder and it felt like the ground disappeared from under her as she was pulled up and out of the hellish memory and found herself back in the confines of her own room.
Now that she was out, she realized that her knuckles had turned white from clutching the side of her desk as she had stared into the basin. Tears flowed from her eyes as Harry pulled it away and capped the silvery liquid in a vial before storing both in his travel bag.
"Your Highness?" he cautioned.
She did not respond.
"Queen Charlotte," he tried again. "Charlotte?" he reached a hand out to her.
But it was not his hand that she saw, but a dark, clawed hand that belonged to a pair of slit pupils. "No!"
She backed away from him.
"Please just... just let me... let me..." what did she want?
He did not try touching her again. He stood off to her side as she trembled, some of those images still going through her head.
"They made it out," Harry said after a few minutes more of silence. "Casca and Guts. They made it out too and are both alive."
"And... Griffith? What about... Griffith?" she saw what had become of him, why was she asking? She knew why.
Harry didn't quite seem to know how to respond to that. "Look, uh, this isn't really the best spot for me to really explain things to you. I have a way that would be safer if you wanted to go there."
She saw him open his travel bag and fished around until he came upon a figurine of a knight made from some material unknown to her. But that was not what caught her eye.
"My trinket!" she recognized the wooden figure of a knight within his pouch.
"Your trinket?" Harry repeated.
"Yes! That's the very same one I gave to that little boy who was wandering around a few months ago. How is it you have it?"
"That's... part of what I hope to explain to you," Harry said. He offered up the other knight figurine to her instead. "This will help. You'll be much safer. It has a way to take you someplace safe if you just-," she swatted his hand away.
"I'm not going with you until you explain. How did you come about my trinket? How did you even get in here? And Griffith... Griffith..."
"Queen Charlotte," Harry tried again.
"You will tell me everything," she ordered him with tears in her eyes. "You call me your Queen, then you will tell me everything and you will tell it here. I... please... please..."
"...please tell me the truth then," Charlotte said as she faced Griffith. "Tell me why. Why was that a wizard who've I only known for a few hours been more honest with me than you have for as long as I've known you?" she ignored the sweating pontiff as her eyes were reserved solely for Griffith whose eyes seemed to come to life.
"Your doubt is very well placed," he spoke. "But it is flawed as well."
More whispering was starting to break out in the hall as those in the back were starting to wonder what was taking so long while those in front wondered what they were talking about in such hushed tones.
"You said just now that this boy is a wizard. A claim which he does not deny. If he had you look into that basin, it is possible he tried to influence your mind to some extent. He could have you say and do things that you normally wouldn't do. Isn't that a reason why the Holy See punishes the practice? Because it cuts our tie to god."
"Kuh!" Charlotte let out a mix of a chuckle and a whimper. "Funnily enough, he thought that you might say something like that." Her fingers brushed aside the flowers of her bouquet. "Maybe I am losing my mind. But, Griffith," her gloved hand pulled out the object she had placed inside. A small green bauble with assorted facial features on it.
His eyes were transfixed by the sight of it in her hand.
"If I have this, will you be truthful with me?"
And so she listened. Listened to him tell his tale. She questioned him on some of the things that he said such as the term apostle is the correct version of War Demons. Casca, the sole woman, had gotten her memory back by means of the very same basin that he had tricked her into using called a pensieve. He had offered to show her the memories instead of telling them, but she declined. Considering the first experience she had with it, she wasn't exactly teeming to try it again.
What was wrong with her? Listening to the words of this wizard? He uses magic, an evil art. He could just be using it to feed her lies about Griffith.
But... how did Falconia appear if not by magic?
"Do you understand now?" Harry asked. It had taken a few hours to explain the full story. "Do you understand why I'm here, why you need to leave?"
Her nerves still felt so shaky. "If what you told me is true..."
"Do you want me to swear an oath?"
"No," she replied. "If you had come to hurt me, you would have done so by now, yes?" He nodded and she continued. "But Griffith, how do I know what you've said is true? If I asked him, told him what you just told me, would he deny it?"
"Yeah, he would." Harry's eyes grew dark before being filled with light. "Unless... he had to confess."
"What do you mean?" she saw him fish around in his bag once more until he pulled out a green trinket.
"Not mine, because I'm only a vessel." He showed her what he held in his hand. It was the same kind of trinket Griffith had once held, the kind that summoned those monsters.
"Y-you have one?"
"It isn't mine," Harry seemed to realize. He held it out to her.
"No." She refused to touch it. "Those... things will come, the one with the brain. I... I don't want to see them."
"You don't have to," Harry tried his best to assure her. "It's like... like... a double-edged sword. All you have to do is show it to him and he shouldn't refuse any request you ask."
This was all happening so fast. So sudden! He was giving this to her.
Her?
What did her fully expect to happen? She was no great warrior. She could not cut a man in two. She was not Griffith, not a witch, not the Black Swordsman, and certainly not Gaiseric. Her skills were in sewing, in enjoying music, in trying to make people happy.
"Whose strength do you rely on? Yours, or his?"
"I... want to draw mine from his."
That was who she was.
To be liked because she could not find it in herself to do so. To have others around to protect her because she was too afraid to do so. She was just a scared girl living her life behind everyone else. She could not do a single thing. She was the worst person to give this to.
"...Why me?" she finally asked.
Harry examined the behelit in his hand. The eye seemed to open to stare back before closing shut. "Because... I can't change your mind otherwise." He set it on her desk. "Sure, I could just kidnap you from here now, but would that change how you feel, what you believe? I was told before that belief is as strong as we make it. The world, God, everything is because there were ideas and strength behind it. I never really understood that until now. If I took you, you'd still probably love Griffith and want to return to him and I would have still changed nothing where it matters." Her eyes widened.
To draw from others to make a strength your own.
"The most I can do in that case is just give it over to someone who can. Find your own belief."
She felt her hand reach out and take hold of the green trinket and place it in the drawer of her desk. Tears stained her face as she met his gaze and an unspoken understanding passed between them at that moment.
Sure, she felt her whole world start to come crashing down.
"Your Highness," Anna announced as the door opened. "I've just realized that-,"
Who she was, what she believed, she was more aware now than ever.
Anna saw the other individual in the room. She screamed. "Guards! Guards! Intruder!"
It was all crumbling down and she felt...
The guards rushed into her room, tackling her ally to the ground as they slapped irons on his wrists.
She knew.
"Will you tell me now?" she asked. The behelit held in her free hand felt so much heavier now than it did before.
"Your Highness," Griffith's voice sounded a whisper even to her.
"If I have this, will you tell me?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper as well. "If it is my desire, you will have to grant it, won't you?"
He tried and failed to avert his eyes from the trinket. "Charlotte..."
"Won't you?" her body felt hot even as the temperature of the room seemed to decrease. The shadows along the walls seemed much more prominent and behind the altar, it was as if a taller being were standing there. "Won't you... won't you..."
What I'm doing is so stupid. But... why? Why do I feel like this? I am a stupid girl. The stupidest most naive, fearful girl who has ever lived. I'm selfish, I'm scared, I'm weak. for so long this... this day has been all I've dreamed about.
"Won't you just deny heed the request of the weakest girl alive?" she asked with tears in the corner of her eyes and the saddest of smiles upon her lips.
Both eyes were open on the behelit now and the other features were rearranging as well. Deny it.
"Please..." she begged. "Please..."
Please deny it.
His next words were spoken so softly that ghosts could hear him.
"What would you sacrifice?"
It was quick, it soft. And it was all the answer that she needed.
Charlotte wiped the tears from her eyes as her sad smile grew. "I already have."
She softly pressed the behelit to his armored chest and let him take it as the eyes started to close for a final time. I love Griffith. Not the Hawk of Light.
Turning to her side, Charlotte felt her legs begin to walk away from the altar. "Your pardon."
With that, she excused herself from the altar and began walking back down the aisle as all the guests sat in stunned silence. Sir Laban and Anna followed her closely after as the man who appeared to be Griffith still stood there.
Charlotte had no idea what was going through his head, but he was probably wondering how a weakling, a wizard, and a rag-tag group had possibly gotten the better of him. ...
As he watched her leave, he wanted to laugh. He noticed that Sir Locus had already gone out the side exit and could only guess the other apostle's intentions. It only served to add to what was already a comedy. Perhaps he had been wrong about her. And Zodd was happy to have been wrong.
The key was a perfect fit with his cell door and Harry quickly threw it open and bolted for the exit. His gambit had seemingly paid off. He tried the other key on the cell block door and it didn't work. He switched to the third on the small hook and this time he heard the click letting him know it had worked.
He sensed for any od before opening the door and felt none. Quickly dashing through, Harry found himself in another room with a few cabinets and drawers lining the walls with suits of spare armor and torture equipment. Realizing that the other key must open one of these drawers, Harry tried it out on all of them until he found the correct match.
Inside the cabinet were his sword, staff, cloak, and travel bag that had all been confiscated upon his capture. He wasted no time in getting his gear back on, briefly pausing as he noticed a note on one desk.
Head to the ceremony hall once you've given the prisoner his meal. These are the Queen's orders. I will come to take your shift.
- Sir Owen
Harry pushed past the last door and found himself rushing up a staircase that must extend back to the main level of the palace as he recalled from being dragged down there from yesterday. Once he reached the top, he pushed past the door and found himself in one of the many corridors of Falconia's palace.
Before donning the invisibility cloak once more, Harry felt a surge of emotion over him. He was still without thought transference as Schierke's hairs were scattered since his arrest. But Farnese and Serpico... they still had theirs.
Reaching out with od, Harry could feel the greatest concentration coming from above in what had to be the ceremony hall. He could feel five distinct breaking away everyone else, one was far more powerful than the others though. Strangely enough, he did not feel Neo-Griffith. Perhaps he had left already. If he had, then this just made it all the better.
With his staff pointed up, Harry called, "Expecto Patronum!"
All that emotion he had built up inside of him finally released in a blinding, silver light. For every hardship, every trial, it seemed to never end, that things would always keep getting worse no matter how hard any of them tried. But today... today seemed an exception. If for nothing else, he was happy that Neo-Griffith finally felt what it was to lose. And that was a damn happy thought.
The silvery animal that hovered in front of him now spread its wings and awaited his command.
"Go find Farnese and the rest. Have them tell guts and Casca... tell them to be ready."
The Patronus seemed to bow its head as it flew off down the corridors, a hawk chasing after its prey.
Only feeling slightly drained after that magical feat, Harry took off to where he felt those od signatures leaving the ceremony hall. The mission still wasn't over yet.
"It isn't too late," Anna said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Everyone is still back at the hall."
Charlotte somehow managed to keep pace ahead of them as she continued to walk farther from the hall. "I won't be going back, Anna. I've made my sacrifice and he accepted."
"But... what does that mean?!" Anna threw her arms up. "You've dreamt of this day for so long, why give it all up now?"
She was saved from having to answer that question by Sir Laban. "The Queen has her reasons, Miss Anna. If she does not wish to marry Griffith, the decision should not be questioned by the likes of us."
Owen gave a nod of agreement. "If you are to question, ask where are we to go now? Do you intend to head toward the dungeon? I have assurance the meal was delivered."
"The dungeon?!" Anna exclaimed. "Why go there? Why not back to your chambers to think things through?"
"I'm sorry, Anna," Charlotte apologized. "There was a... recent development that you weren't informed of. Just know that the prisoner should be free and I'll be going with him." She seriously thought Anna would faint when she said that.
They continued on to a lower level when the straight path ahead was blocked by a knight in moonshine armor. Sir Locus. But... something was off about him. While he usually had stoic look in his eyes and face he seemed almost desperate. Desperate to not only keep up that front but to keep something more.
Laban took the lead. "This is royal business, Sir Locus. Stand aside."
Locus stood still. "The White Hawk is to be King of Humanity. I would say that qualifies as a royal business. Please, allow me to escort you all back to the ceremony hall." He pointed back the way they had come.
"The Queen has made her choice not to proceed with the ceremony," Laban offered up. "If you wish to return, you may do so. Our business lies elsewhere."
"All business today lies with the Hawk of Light," Locus was adamant. "Anything less is treason." He was starting to perspire and his face seemed to resemble a melting candle.
Owen stood next to Laban in front. "Queen Charlotte is the royal monarch. Griffith holds high titles, but he is not of royalty. Stand aside."
His words fell on deaf ears. "A knight's duty... is to serve. The Hawk of Light, he is the supreme. His needs, far outweigh my own. To think... two such noble knights fall to treachery at the hands of a wizard... a knight's duty... is to protect. Anything less... is treason." His hand went to draw his lance. The look in his eyes, it was that of a desperate man.
Laban noticed it too and drew his sword. "Owen! Escort Queen Charlotte out of here! Take another route! Summon a garrison here if you can!"
Owen's face showed his emotion and Charlotte seemed to realize all too late what was about to happen.
"Come, Your Highness!" Owen grabbed her hand and took off with her and Anna down a side hall as a metallic, clang! signaled the clash of live steel.
"H-he can hold him, can't he?" Anna asked.
The usually calm Owen looked uncertain. As determined and loyal as Laban was, Locus was the deadliest lance in the land. "We have to get the Queen to safety first. Don't doubt Laban's tenacity either."
Try as she might to think of every worth deed Laban had ever done for the country and her family, she felt she knew the outcome.
Thank you. For everything.
Harry continued rushing along the corridors, continuing to move up until he got to the main level of the palace. He could feel the od signatures getting ever closer. Two of them had remained behind he felt and began to fight. He couldn't focus on the outcome as he felt more sources of od converging to where his query was heading. One felt like an ordinary human, the other was definitely an apostle.
But he was closer. He could make it if he sprinted. He pulled off the cloak as it had become a hindrance on his legs while running and stuffed it back in his bag. Ignoring the burning sensation in his side, Harry kept pushing forward until he spotted them.
Sir Owen had his sword out as he led Charlotte and Anna behind him.
They both seemed to spot the other at the same time as they continued toward the other.
"What in heaven's name is going on?!" Anna frantically shouted once they were all together.
Owen ignored her. "The Queen told me you have a means of getting her to safety? Tell me that was not a lie." Harry fished inside his bag to pull out his plastic knight figurine which had been turned into a portkey. "You jest?"
"I had it charmed so it would activate when she touches it," Harry explained in a hurry. "If you're going with her, grab on too." He placed it on the ground.
"You will not be coming?" Owen seemed like he wanted to question more, but knowing the situation, he seemed to go along with it.
Harry furrowed his brow. "There are still things that I have to do."
"Sir Laban!" Charlotte exclaimed. "He stayed behind so we could escape. You will help him, won't you?"
"Just tell me where and-," the soft flutter of wings caught his attention as the apostle he felt from earlier made her appearance.
Rosine hovered there, staring down at the scene with an unreadable expression on her face. Heavy footsteps sounded from somewhere from the adjacent corridor and the human seemed to be approaching on them as well.
"Take it!" Harry instructed as the three pairs of hands took hold of the portkey and with a blurring spin, vanished from the spot.
The knight rounded the corner as Harry drew his staff. When he spotted Harry he made ready to call out, "Intrud- eeghh!"
Faster than he could keep track of, Rosine had divebombed with her stinger extended and impaled the knight through the throat before he could call for others.
She withdrew her stinger and let his lifeblood stain the white floor red. She looked up at Harry and uttered but one word, "Go."
As quickly as she had appeared, she took off in the opposite direction. Her wings carried her down the corridor, further down to the point Harry could barely discern her shape and kept going until he was certain she would fly straight out of the palace, straight out of Falconia for good.
He took her parting words to use.
How delusional must he be to believe that he is what he pretends to be?
He had tracked down Locus after the whole ceremony thing knowing what the other apostle had in mind. Locus' actions were his own for sure and certainly not granted by the Hawks' permission. His delusion had gotten the better of him.
Locus hardly seemed to care that he had a small cut on his cheek from where the knight's blade had cut him.
Not that it really mattered.
"Zodd," Locus casually greeted as he pulled his lance free from the chest of its latest victim.
The first blood.
"The Hawk has returned to his solar. He is most likely convening with the other four."
Locus wiped the blood from his lance. "His will shall be done. The traitor has been dealt with. But there is still the wizard."
That is a fight you would be hard-pressed to win. "Go fetch his rival in Pandemonium," Zodd instructed. "His time is at hand." And far more than that. He could not see it, but he could feel it in the air. It was finally here.
And he was right
The feeling of stepping through a hole that tried to grip your feet and pull you down washed over all those who had come along. It had felt like weeks of waiting, but Farnese had gotten back to them via thought transference with an update on Harry's situation. His Patronus had caused a great stir as it flew into the hall and announced its message. That was shortly before the Queen had magically appeared in Doldrey in full wedding dress and two other followers.
Their guests had told them their side of events as well and it was clear where the winds were blowing in Falconia.
From that point on, it was time for action on their end. Skull Knight had a habit of knowing when they were in need and provided his talent once again for them to appear just outside of the protective barrier outside of the city.
Dragonslayer felt heavy on his back as his lone eye stared at the city beyond.
The battle - their battle, was at hand.
A/N: So this chapter is meant as the final prelude for the final battle as it wraps up many of the Falconia story arcs and I hope that it gets you all excited for what is to come. Thank you for reading.