Hey guys! Well, like Random Reader said, I'm going to make my AN's AFTER the chapter, not before. I'll also shorten it to people either with criticism or questions that aren't too spoilerific. If your question doesn't get answered then it means the answer will be shown in the story either now or soon, so don't worry. I check the reviews for criticism and questions before I make the final post.
But I have to say: I've read the latest translated novels, and it is VERY GOOD. The politics are there, Pope Vittorio's character along with Julio's finally make me understand why people hate them, and I can't believe that the novel actually pulled off making me feel bad for Joseph even a tiny smidgen considering everything he'd done in his last appearance. I have some complaints here and there, but I have to say that the anime destroyed what could have been an epicstory with harem antics taking precedence over plot. Damn shame...
And before anyone asks again : YES, HE WILL GET STRONGER AS THE STORY GOES. For all the complaints about how weak he is, please remember that he's still just recently gotten out and very unhealthy. He'll improve as time goes on.
Anastacia of Astora had a great destiny, or so many people said. She was one of the few firekeepers in the world; women 'blessed' with 'sacred task' of guarding the blessed bonfires. Supposedly it was some great event given only to a chosen few and it allowed those of the most devout faith to serve their Lord Gwyn to the best of their abilities. No one complained because the task was so humbling and honorable.
Of course, Raziel thought the reason no one complained was because they had their tongue's cut out when they tried to. And maybe the mass beatings had something to do with that too. Oh and the whole "We're cutting off your feet just in case you get any idea of actually going more than a few steps ever crosses your mind. Which it won't, right?"
Really, it didn't sound so great to him.
"You think your fate is to stay here forever?" Raziel leaned back against the cold stone, sitting close to the bars containing the prisoner within, "Do you really believe you were born to take this 'divine task' and that you should take this all without so much as a complaint? It's not right..."
Anastacia didn't reply to his question verbally, though she nodded at him all the same. Even though the reactions seemed cold and detached, Raziel had long ago figured out that the fact that she was replying at all meant she valued his company enough that she didn't just ignore him like she did every other Undead that tried to pester her for information.
"I don't think this is the right place for anyone. Watching people die and be reborn, again and again with no change? This is a nightmare..." Raziel gave the young girl a look of pity, thankfully hidden from underneath his helm. She looked sad; her clothes were dirty and loose, her hair was a tangled mess, and there was something in her eyes that he saw when she looked at her. Sadness, but more than that: Resignation. She stopped caring about everything, even her own life. She was raised from birth to accept what was happening to her and nothing could change that now.
"But why you alone?" He continued, "There's no one here! You can escape, you can leave this place! You have your two feet, get up and walk on them. Don't waste this chance."
Anastacia didn't reply again, looking away from him. Raziel felt frustration bubble in him again before her soft voice rang out, "...Where would I go...?" His eyes widened at the sound. The last time she'd talked to him was after he'd restored her to life...after he killed Lautrec to get her soul back. He could still remember the devout Undead mocking him, telling him that death was preferable to her continuing an empty life.
He hated that a part of him agreed with that.
"Anywhere, it doesn't matter where," Raziel replied, though a touch of uncertainty had peaked into his voice, "Anything is better than staying here and waiting to die. Anything is better than seeing people die and come back to life, over and over again with nothing you can do but watch. You don't have to sit here and wait for people like Lautrec to kill you. I'll protect you."
He stopped leaning back on the wall and turned to face her, one hand gripping the bars and another reaching out towards her. He wanted to get her out of here.
"You cannot," Anastacia shook her head softly, though a gentle smile had found its way to her lips, "All Firekeepers have the capacity to store Humanity, and this is what makes us the guardians of the flame. Only by sacrificing and maintaining the Humanity within us can the bonfires be strengthened. In this way it is similar to the rite of Kindling you yourself use."
"It doesn't matter," He insisted again, "Just because-"
"There is another reason," She cut him off, "Due to our rampant humanity, we attract the attention of both Hollow and Undead alike. Did you not remember how Lautrec the Embraced coveted my Firekeeper soul?" Her right hand unconsciously went up to her neck, flinching as she remembered how Lautrec slit her throat. He laughed at her as he did it and she still remembered the sadistic glee he had when she felt the crescent blade go from one side of her neck to another.
Of course he remembered. He arrived just seconds too late from stopping him, too late to stop him from killing her and taunting him with the knowledge that it was because Raziel had freed him from his cell in a moment of bad judgement. It was his fault that he managed to get so far.
"The Humanity in our souls attract those seeking power. Those who have Hollowed instinctively search for those whose souls contain humanity, to grasp it for themselves and kill the hosts in order to get it. This is the reason why Hollows never attack one another."
"Yes, I knew that since long ago. But what does-"
"And even individuals that still have their senses seek us out," Anastacia interrupted, "Our Firekeeper souls are coveted by both Hollow and Non-Hollow alike for their rampant humanity and power. There is another reason I stay here: I would be killed if I stepped out, and it has nothing to do with either my duty or my choice. This is the safest place for me."
"That's not..." Raziel looked down, unable to see her face to face. She was right. Even with people like Lautrec coming to kill her, this place was the safest she knew of. The bonfires power kept the monsters away and many Undead who craved her soul still abstained from doing so simply because her death would stop the bonfire from being lit.
What he was suggesting was that she leave this sanctuary, as torturous as it was, to come with someone going on some mad quest to 'Save the World'. Even if he could protect her, what would happen once his journey ended? Would she simply go back here and pretend nothing happened, that she should wait for the next person offering her protection in the vain hope that she could leave again.
"I thank you for your concern, but you have done enough for me. Many would have kept my soul for themselves or devoured it for the humanity it held. You saved me."
"I didn't save you; it was my fault to begin with," He sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I can do. Your legs and tongue were healed but you consider it a sin to talk. You can't even move from beyond this cage or else you'd die. I didn't save you...I can't save you."
His hands smashed against the bars of the cage in frustration. There was nothing he could do. If he tried to help her it would just end in her death and if he did nothing then she would live the rest of her Undeath staying in this God's forsaken pit with nothing and no one to help her. Lautrec's laughter echoed at the back of his head again; taunting him about his failures. There was nothing he could do.
Anastacia looked sad for a moment before she hesitantly reached her right hand out and grabbed hold of his. Raziel looked up slowly and found her smiling at him, "It is alright. You are suffering from your own trials, are you not? Please do not worry about me. The God's have given us both roles in this desolate land."
That was a load of flames. All the God's were husks, either dead or clinging onto whatever power they had left with not much time left. The Witch of Izalith, Gravelord Nito, Seath the Scaleless, and even Gwyn Lord of Sunlight were far gone. Kingseeker Fraampt had outright told him that they had either lost themselves...or they they were no longer useful. Even the God's weren't above treachery.
"You're right," Raziel nodded, "But I promise you that I will get you out of here. When the fires are linked and I take Gwyn's place, promise me that you'll leave this place and don't look back." He didn't know exactly what linking the fires entailed, but it should free her from this sacred duty nonsense right? It had to, "You might be afraid of losing your life, but please don't let it stop you. All of us are afraid of that."
He didn't even know why he worried over her so much. Was he so desperate for companionship that he would expend effort to worrying about people he knew almost nothing about? He didn't know Anastacia. Her background, her personality, and even more than just her role as a firekeeper. The only reason he'd started talking to her was because he became worried for her safety.
So why...? He'd felt the same when talking to Laurentius and even Siegmeyer. It was likely for a selfish reason, whatever it was.
Anastacia nodded with a "Yes", flashing him another grateful smile. Raziel visibly sighed in relief, lips curling into a relaxed smile from underneath the knight helm.
Both of them tightened their hold on each others hands slightly. Even through the cold metal of his armor, he could still feel the warmth radiating from her palm. It was a side effect of being a Firekeeper; their body temperatures were hotter than most. Without his gauntlet he might have ended up finding his skin burned from the heat. That would be a painful experience.
But right now he just found the warmth relaxing. Anastacia made no effort to wrest her hand from his grip and neither did he. They just found themselves staring at the foggy mists of Lordran. The life of an Undead was a terrible one, but with others then the pain could be dulled. Laurentius had gone for the swamps of Blighttown, Solaire had left to look for his sun and Siegmeyer was out adventuring again. The two of them simply took solace in each others company.
"I will save you."
"By the abyss..." Raziel groaned as another headache spread across his temple. Bandaged and burned hands gripped the side of his head tightly and ragged breaths made their way out of dry lips, "Stupid dreams...need to stop..." He leaned across the wall, sighing in relief at the feeling of the cold stone against his head. It provided a distraction from the searing pain.
Another distant memory had overtaken him not long after he'd left the room. And as he'd found out not too long afterwards, the after-effects of the memories weren't pretty: His head ached, his stomach felt like it had been punched, and his vision seemed to worsen every time he blinked or took a deep breath. It was vaguely similar to how he felt whenever he got too near Blighttown's poisonous swamp.
Was that even him? He honestly couldn't recall him at all. Every time he tried to recall any parts of his former identity he came up blank. He could recall his friends well enough; their personalities, their flaws, and even some of the things they'd done together - mostly early meeting and some conversations. After that everything stopped. Most of his journey were cuts into bits and pieces. He didn't even know what happened to his friends...except for Solaire.
"Solaire..." Flames, he had forgotten about Solaire. He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow at the memory. Solaire had gotten what he wanted, but he died in the process. It was an illusion; he never found his sun. Solaire had lost everything and even allowed himself to turn Undead to find his sun, and he stopped him from fulfilling his dream.
But it wasn't like he had a choice. The person he killed wasn't his friend, not anymore.
Looking for a distraction, Raziel found himself looking up to Halkegenia's twin moons. The two constellations had a certain allure to them; an ethereal beauty that he found himself attracted to. It was silly...
In Lordran, everything was dark. The moon could barely been seen through the all encompassing fog and his time was mostly spent on cramped area's or sprawling labyrinth's, so the only sources of light he usually saw was either his lightstone or the few bonfires he managed to find. Here everything was brightly lit and the moon looked extremely close.
Lordran's sun? It was a fake, an illusion made by Gwyndolin to trick the masses into thinking that the God's still had all their power and that their worship was still justified. Raziel grit his teeth as thought of Gwyndolin manifested into his head again. He wanted to kill him, to make him pay for all those years he spent in the kiln while the 'God' tricked and killed everyone.
If he had the chance, he would take it.
A shiver ran through him as another barrage of wind hit through the area. The nights in Tristain were cold, as he figured out not long after he left the room. Despite a lot of his body being deadened due to his death, he could still feel things like heat and cold. Now he was regretting going out in nothing but a thin shirt and some loose trousers. He needed to find a way to warm himself up.
He racked his brain for a solution before an idea came to him, "Pyromancy..."
Pyromancy was an art that could be learned by anyone, but it was absurdly difficult to do so without either years of training or using souls to augment your power. Raziel himself had taken the latter option due to the lack of a proper pyromancy teacher. Quelana was too reclusive to teach, Laurentius was himself a student, and Eyngyi was...Eyngyi. There wasn't much of a choice there.
"Awake...flames of chaos..." He muttered the incantation under his breath. His right hand...did nothing. He looked down at his bandaged palm and frowned. He knew it wouldn't be that easy.
Raziel took a deep breath and stretched out his bandaged right hand. He hadn't tried summoning his pyromancy flame since he got here, even during the fight with the sorcerer. He tried to convince himself that it was because he was too distracted with everything going on that he forgot, but he knew the truth of it: It wasn't that he wouldn't do it, it was because he couldn't do it.
Closing his eyes and concentrating, he pictured the flame in his mind again. His right hand remained barren for just a few more seconds before a small flame burst forth, destroying the bandages covering his palm and dousing him in a feeling of heat.
"Haha..." The beginnings of a smile passed through his lips before his face contorted in a sudden burst of pain.
Raziel was burning again.
He closed his eyes tightly, mouth parted open in a silent scream. The flame dancing across his palm ignited and he could feel it starting to spread. First on his palm, then his entire hand, then slowly spreading though his arm. The fire burned away at his flesh and tore through the thick bandages before he could focus again, "Disappear..." He muttered the counter spell through pained breaths.
As soon as the words passed from his lips the flames consuming his arm immediately faded. Raziel breathed raggedly, back lying against the wall and trying his best to ignore the pain that shot up his arm whenever he tried to move it. The smell of burning skin and cloth caused him to flinch. It reminded him of his first days in the kiln; trying in vain to lessen his suffering and
The effects were already obvious however; his right arm, which already had parts of it reddened from his injuries, now looked like it had been painted red and ground through jagged rocks. Thankfully he had managed to stop the flames from burning through all of his clothes, though most of his right sleeve had evidently been destroyed by the intense flame. The sleeve reached up to about halfway to his elbow.
"Great..." He looked down at his right arm and grimaced. It hurt. A lot. But he had grown used to pain already, and the most gruesome thing about it was its appearance mostly. The ironic thing? It still looked better than when he spent his days as a Hollowed out husk. At least the burned arm still looked like it had more than just bare bones and rotting skin. Granted that was mostly because it looked like badly cooked meat, but it was something.
There was something else that worried him. That flame was way too strong, and he didn't mean for it to be that way. He wanted to excuse it and say it was just a fluke. The truth was obvious however.
He couldn't control the pyromancy flame anymore. Whenever the thought of using the flame passed his mind his arms immediately convulsed and he found himself flinching as his recent imprisonment permeated his mind. Of course he couldn't use the only other weapon he had; that would've been too merciful, and fate and whatever God was still alive/hadn't killed yet out there obviously wanted him to suffer for their amusement.
Quelana told him to "Always fear the flame, lest you be devoured by it and lose yourself". The message was clear: One had to pay respect to the flame. And though fear needed to be exercised, one also needed will and determination. Everyone could learn pyromancy, but not everyone could actually control it. Control came from the rare individuals who could balance both their fear and reverence with control and strength.
The first time he managed to successfully use his Flame was during his fight with the Gaping glutton. Fear had gripped him when he first saw it, but after fear there was something else: The will to fight and survive. That was what allowed him to manifest the chaotic magic within him and what allowed him to continue to use it afterwards. Danger was the trigger.
And right now, his fear of the flames overtook everything else. He'd spent too long in the Kiln. Too long that his body and very soul had been marked by its heat and fire. He was no longer the same person; he was something else entirely.
Raziel just hoped no one would see him like this In his pathetic state.
"Mr. Familiar!"
And of course, right as he thought of that, fate (or maybe it was Kaathe and Frampt; both seemed evil enough) decided to be its usual self and have someone find him.
Siesta rushed towards him and knelt down, looking worriedly at his ragged form, "Mr. Familiar, what happened? Your arm..." She pointed a shaky finger at the freshly burnt arm. The maid felt bile rise to her throat as the smell of the recently cooked flesh reached her nostrils, "D-Did you get attacked? What happened?"
"Siesta..." Raziel forced his voice to stay calm and ensure it didn't waver, "What are...you doing here?" He shook his head. Not the time to ask that question, "I'm fine...just had an accident...don't worry" He did his best to give her a re-assuring smile.
It didn't work, "Wh-What do you mean an accident!?" She asked hysterically, "Your arm looks like it's been cooked by Orcs!"
Orcs? Flames, that didn't sound good, "Don't worry..." He repeated again, "It's my fault...I got distracted...and this happened," He raised his reddened arm slightly before it crashed to the ground again. Both Undead and Maid flinched at the squishy sound of it hitting the grassy floor, "...Just let it heal...and then I'll be...fine..." Woah, so he could go 4 words now. At least his throat was healing.
"Don't be silly!" Raziel blinked at how loud her voice was. Why did she sound so determined? "Th-This isn't something that you can just ignore! Let me help."
She rummaged in her skirt pocket for a few seconds before pulling out the desired item, "Bandages?" Raziel asked. What in the void was she doing carrying around packets of the white cloth? "Why do you...have that?"
Siesta didn't answer his question, focusing more on gently bandaging the burned arm of her friend. While she wasn't what one would call a healer, she was adept at treating injuries due to her background: Living with brothers and her somewhat bull-headed father at the very least taught her how to bandage up or close small wounds and slight burns. While she couldn't do anything for people who were near death - which was what he seemed to be when she first saw him - she could at least try to heal his wounds.
As for the reason she had bandages in the first place? Call it a woman's intuition.
Raziel just watched her, trying to ignore the headaches threatening to burst into his head again. He didn't have the heart to tell Siesta that she was actually making his injuries slightly worse since her idea of medical help basically amounted to wrapping the bandages as tightly as she could around the affected area. While this was generally a good idea for heavily bleeding wounds and even up to minor burns, it was pretty damn horrible when someone's arm felt like it had just gotten barbecued by an annoyed Pyromancer. Damn, he needed an Estus.
"Believe it or not, the people of Oolacile brought this upon themselves. Fooled by that toothy serpent, they upturned the grave of Primeval man."
"You are Undead as well? Then we've no time to fraternize. I have my mission, and you no doubt have yours. We must not let this curse overcome us."
"The Four Kings were powerful men, only...their hearts were weak. When an evil serpent dangled the art of Lifedrain before them, they were unable to resist, and became pawns of evil."
"There, all done!" Siesta smiled up at him, knocking him out of his reverie. Raziel determined to himself that he would not so much as mutter a single complaint at the well-meaning but uncomfortably painful treatment. The pain at least let him focus on something else.
"Thank you..." He forced smile and flexed his right arm, causing an uncomfortable shock of pain to run through the appendage. The smile never left his face, "You healed me...thank you..." He repeated again, silently cursing in his head at how tight the bandages were. He couldn't believe people used these things! Flames, it was like being wrapped around with a sewer slime.
Maybe it would've been better to leave it untreated...
"What are...you doing here?" He finally decided to ask again.
"Huh?" She looked confused for a second before the question registered, "O-Oh, most of the maids and servants wake up early during the early days of the school year. Since it's near morning, most of us are already preparing the food and cleaning the Alviss hall."
"I became Undead to pursue this!"
"This knight of Catarina expresses his most sincere gratitude."
"A wise choice, indeed. Maiden Thorolund and her followers recently arrived in this land, but she became stranded deep below the Catacombs. Her followers either fled, or were reduced to Hollows…leaving Maiden Thorolund all alone. Not a bad tip, huh? A nubile cleric would be replete with humanity…"
"...Right..." Raziel nodded absently. Flames and Damnation! His head was spinning, his vision swam, and he felt like killing himself just so he could distract himself from the memories that continued to pulse inside him. He needed a distraction, something else to focus on other than the rapid memories filling his head.
"Well, should we get you back to Miss. Valliere's room?" Siesta's voice reached his ears, "I'll deliver the laundry to her room-"
"Siesta...!" Raziel stopped her mid explanation and grabbed her outstretched hand.
The maid felt her face heat up at the contact, "Yes, what is it?" Good, she managed to keep her voice calm, though she was pretty sure her face looked like a ripe tomato by now. As long as nothing else happened she would be fine.
"Take me..."
...
It took about 10 seconds for his words to register, but when they did her reaction was instantaneous, "EHHHHHH!" Siesta shrieked loudly, face going from slightly red to a blazing inferno, "W-W-Wait, could you please repeat that!? I don't think I heard you properly!" She shrieked loudly at him, causing another annoying pang of pain to overtake his head. God's, couldn't she lower her voice?
"I said...take me..." He repeated, albeit slower this time so she wouldn't miss it.
'He said "take me", right? I didn't mishear him, right? Why would he say that!?' Siesta thought frantically. Undoubtedly those were words of confession...but wasn't it usually said by females? The two words had multiple meanings: First meaning that they wish to be accepted, the second meaning the physical act of of acceptance, and the third was...intimacy-
It wasn't like she hated him; contrary to the fact, she actually thought they were pretty good friends in the short time they'd known each other considering what he'd done for her. But wasn't this rushing it a bit? She never put 'the act' and him in the the same train of thought...and it had nothing to do with his constant injuries. It was because of their relationship so far.
Raziel watched with uncertainty as Siesta's face once again became engulfed in red...again. Was this a normal occurrence to the people of this place? His Master tended to share the same look when she got angry and started yelling.
And more importantly, what was it that triggered the reaction? Was she angry at him because he wanted to come with her and get his master's clothes? Were the reddened faces caused by more than anger? The only person he'd seen with the same crimson color was his master, and this was usually followed by a lot of yelling. Well, in a sense, Siesta was indeed yelling. She just sounded less furious about it.
"W-We can't, Mr. Familiar," Siesta finally managed to speak out, "Y-Y-You and I are friends, and friends normally don't do these kids- I mean kinds of things together!" She babbled in a rush, nearly incoherently. Raziel looked even more confused at the rushed explanation.
Okay, so they had to be something else other than friends - hmm, she was the first person who called him that - just to get the laundry? Weird...
"Why not...?" He asked, honestly wondering, "Can't we do it...I need it..." He needed to distract himself from the constant headaches, and he already forgot about the laundry because of everything that happened a few hours ago.
"Why do you need it!?" Siesta never figured him for someone like Lord Guiche, "Shouldn't you wait till you find someone you love and trust and whatnot?"
Love and trust? Okay, this was getting kind of absurd. Since when did they need love and trust to wring clothes dry and fold them (as Siesta told him when he asked what to do afterwards yesterday)? That would be like saying you had to absolutely had to hate someone to attack them. While he had attacked and killed many monsters and individuals - or at least that's what some of his retained memories told him - he didn't particularly hate all them.
"Oh, hello again. We're both managing quite well, aren't we? But I haven't found my father yet. Have you seen him?"
"Halt! This is the tomb of the Great Lord Gwyn. Tarnished, it shall not be, by the feet of men. If thou art a true discipline of the Dark Sun, cast aside thine ire,
hear the voice of mineself, Gwyndolin, and kneel before me."
"O chosen Undead. I am Gwynevere. Daughter of Lord Gwyn; and Queen of Sunlight. Since the day Father his form did obscureth, I have await'd thee."
Okay, he needed to distract himself now, "Let's go..."
He stood up on shaky legs and grabbed at Siesta's hand, dragging her haphazardly despite her protests. She couldn't so much as utter a peep as the pale Undead took her towards wherever he planned to take her.
Louise woke up to find herself alone. Groggily she looked around the dark room, looking for any sign of her Familiar, only to be met with disappointment as he appeared to have gone without a trace. She didn't know whether she should feel irritated he left without her permission or happy that she was in no more risk of being choked to death in her sleep.
The tired pinkette slowly rose from her bed, ignoring the feeling of cold on her bare feet as they touched the ground. She wouldn't be able to sleep now that she woke up. Besides, she had a hunch it was already pretty close to early morning and she didn't want to wake up late if she could help it. Better she spent her time studying.
While she was indeed a 'Zero' (though she would never call herself that) in magic, she was practically the top of her grade when it came to the theorem's and written parts of magic. And, though the teachers never bothered to say it out loud, it was pretty obvious to her that her grades were the only reason they didn't kick her out a year in with her producing nothing but explosions.
"I should study in advance for the next lesson," She mumbled aloud to herself, already making her way to her desk and grabbing a thick book on the 'Theory of Fire magic' from her bookcase, "Mr. Colbert said we'd get tested on the various theory's about fire's extreme heat and how it's produced...why am i talking to myself?" She shook her head left and right and tried to shake the grogginess from herself. She needed to focus.
"Chapter 2," She sighed, slightly irritated already. Just because she was the top when it came to academics didn't mean she actually enjoyed spending almost her entire time reading textbook upon textbook while her classmates were practicing their spells. This was something she didn't share with her balding Professor; regardless of how much he tried to convince her otherwise.
And so she read. Sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page. The information in the books were memorized, stored in her head, and then taken note of for possible future use. She didn't even bother trying to understand what most of them meant; just memorize and store. Understanding would have taken too long and wasted too much time she could have used studying something else.
"Chapter 5," Louise felt her eyes droop out of boredom and she slammed the book against the wooden table. Hard.
Unfortunately, the weight of the heavy textbook caused most of her utensils sitting on the desk to crash down both all over the table and onto the floor. Louise grit her teeth and resisted the urge to yell in frustration. Her reputation was already in the toilet after everything that had happened and she didn't want her classmates to call her out on screaming so early in the morning.
"Damn," She sucked in her frustration and picked up the quills, inkwells, and loose pieces of paper that were scatted all over the desk. In hindsight, it might have actually been a good thing this happened. Brimir knows when was the last time she'd actually bothered cleaning up the desk. This was her chance to tidy up and organize her needed studies and throw away the extra, unneeded ones.
It was after 10 minutes of doing this that she finally picked up the last piece of clutter: A slightly crumpled envelope. The item looked completely plain save for a few animal drawing on the side.
"Big sis..." She looked down at the envelope sadly. This was the letter her older sister Cattleya had sent her a week prior to the summoning test. She couldn't find it in herself to actually read the contents for fear of it making her feel even more anxious. Cattleya often sent her letters and she often sent one back immediately after she read them. She didn't want to hear her words of encouragement till after the day itself. She'd stuffed it between some of her thicker books and promised to answer back if...when she got her new Familiar.
This was the first time she didn't read her sister's letter. In all the excitement (though she herself would call it chaos) that happened the past 2 days she had forgotten all about her sister's missives. Immediately she could feel the guilt eating away at her. It was her constant letters to her older sister just a year ago that started this little back and forth. Cattleya was sick and Louise didn't know how affected she was spending her time making these letters.
And now she didn't even bother to answer her properly, or even read the letter? It wasn't right.
She'd promised herself she wouldn't read the letter till she got her Familiar. Technically, didn't...what was his name again? He didn't say anything about a name and she didn't bother naming him as per the standard norm. Maybe she should rectify that when she had the chance.
...Anyway, he counted as far as both she and he were concerned.
With trembling hands, Louise broke the seal of the worn envelope and slowly pulled out the immaculate paper. Despite the many days it had spent stuck between the thick books, the paper inside still looked crisp and new. Steeling herself, she unfolded the parchment and read the paper.
"My dearest Louise,"
"Little Louise, how are you? Your last letter a few days ago has me worried.
"You told me that you were worried about the Familiar Summoning Ritual. I beg of you to not be afraid."
"More than anyone, I believe you are capable of great things. Please do not concern yourself with how others talk about you."
"I believe in you; now and forever. I know you'll summon something very fitting for your gentle nature."
"But let us not talk forever on this. How go your studies? I hope you are not losing sleep trying to understand everything."
"Remember. The best can only come when you are ready for it. Trying to force yourself will not accomplish anything."
"I know it doesn't mean anything when I say something like that, and that I am not the best example, but please do not push yourself too much. You do not want to become sickly like me."
"I hope that when the time comes, you find the Familiar that you seek. Take this chance for both me and you."
"I have to go now. Mother calls for me to come back to my room. She has been trying to teach me how to knit like she taught you years ago. With any luck I should be able to make a sweater for you by the time we see each other again."
"I love you Louise. We all do."
"Yours lovingly,
Cattleya"
Louise felt tears drop from her eyes and onto the parchment. Her hands shook, trying to control themselves. She needed to be strong for her.
She missed her sister. She missed seeing her smile again, to spend time with the one person in the family who never called her a failure and never stop believing in her. She wanted to see her again. To see that gentle smile and think that nothing was wrong.
Her chest hurt. This happened whenever she felt pangs of homesickness and regret. It had been over a year since she'd seen her sister now. She hadn't gone home the previous summer; too ashamed to face her family that she had nothing to show even after all her studies during her first year in the Academy of magic. She didn't want to face their disappointment.
"This child is too troublesome!"
"Eleanor, stay quiet."
"But she is! Earth, Water, Fire, Wind. All of it ends in explosions and disasters!"
They didn't mean for her to hear that. They never knew she was passing by in the hallway when they were having that conversation. She was a child, barely into her teens when she heard Eleanor call her a problem and a disaster that wouldn't amount to anything no matter what. She kept her feelings bottled up and refused to let them out for anyone but Cattleya. Only she knew.
One of Cattleya's last words rang at her again, "Take this chance for both me and you."
Her sister couldn't summon a Familiar. They had tried ten years ago when Louise was merely 6 years of age and she could never forget what had happened: Cattleya, crumpled on the ground and coughing up blood, trying to re-assure everyone that she was fine. Her Mother and Father, already worried about Cattleya, outright dragging her out of the room when she tried to continue the spell. And her oldest sister Eleanore comforting her, blocking her eyes and telling her not to look and saying Cattleya would be fine. It was the first and last time she'd been that gentle with the youngest Valliere.
She wanted her to summon a Familiar. Not only to finally prove she was a mage to her parents and Eleanor, but to see the happy smile on her face when she finally proved it to herself. She wanted Louise to do what she could never be able to.
And the worst part of it was Louise didn't know whether she had succeeded or failed.
Wiping away her tears quickly, Louise grabbed her own parchment and took a quill lying on her desk. She needed to answer back.
"Dearest sister,
"I hope that this letter finds you well. I'm sorry for not answering sooner."
"So much has happened in the last two days that I can scarcely believe it myself. Even now a part of me wishes that it was a dream."
"The Springtime Familiar Ritual was a success...maybe."
"I do not know how to explain it myself. I had indeed summoned a Familiar. I had summoned a human"
"But, it...he is unlike any other."
"When I first summoned him he did not appear human, He came out of an explosion; a corpse wreathed in flames and missing skin"
"I had never been so scared in my life. I thought I had killed someone by accident. But then he began to move, shambling towards me like he wanted revenge for the flames lapping at him. It was like a scene out of the scariest horror novel we used to read together,"
"But then he stopped, and crumpled to the ground. And...I didn't know what came over me, but I walked towards him. I completed the ritual and I-
He changed. Where there was once a corpse now there was a boy, barely older than I. His body was marred in horrific burn wounds, but he was no doubt human. He speaks our language, moves just like any commoner, but I feel apprehensive of him. Like there is something unnatural about him."
I know, this must sound so absurd to you, but please know that I would never tell a lie regarding this. I didn't know what to make of him, especially when I saw him fight."
"Oh yes, the fight."
"You remember General de Gramont, yes? His fourth son Guiche attends the academy."
"Something happened, I am not sure what, but my Familiar ended up with odds against him. I tried to apologize in his stead, but he refused to bow down to him and they fought."
"But he won. Dear Founder, he actually beat a mage."
"He used no magic, no guns, and yet he won. The only thing he had on him was a tray and his own brute strength. A tray! He managed to beat a noble with nothing but his bare hands and a serving implement."
"But sister, he did something that I have never seen before: He came back to life! When Guiche's Valkyrie managed to stab him through, I thought he had died. But when Guiche got closer he suddenly sprang up, nearly choking him. Afterwards he even pulled the spear from his stomach. No blood gushed from the wound. I am sure of this"
"I still do not know what to make of this. A part of me is glad that the Familiar I summoned is capable of defending me, but another is scared. He nearly killed Guiche and he already refused to follow my commands for him to not fight. Would he come for me next if he so wished?"
"I am scared, but I will not let fear rule me. Mother taught me better than that."
"I do not know if he is monster or man. But I promise this: He is my Familiar, and I am his master. Nothing will change that."
Yours lovingly,
Louise.
P.S. Please do not worry about my studies. I am doing well there. Please get well soon."
With a sigh of relief, Louise gave a small smile and tucked the letter into a spare envelope. She would deliver this to the mailer when she and her Familiar got into town later. Simply faster and more convenient that way.
In the courtyard, a battle of wits and patience was currently underway.
"Please fold the clothes like so."
"Like this?" He folded it clumsily and crumpled it. Raziel looked at the black skirt in his hands in utter confusion. How was he supposed to fold this damn thing? The irritation from the burns on his fingers certainly didn't do him any favors in the finesse department. On the bright side, his throat had at least healed some more and he could talk somewhat normally without pausing or lisping at the end. Still couldn't go more than 4 without stopping though.
"No, like this," Siesta half-sighed half-laughed at his clumsy attempt to fold the lower uniform, "You have to fold the edges inwards first and then put the top to the bottom."
"What edges?" Raziel gave the skirt a glare of frustration and contemplated dunking it on the fountain again. Shame it wasn't alive; he would've drowned it to relieve some tension.
Not long after they'd arrived, Raziel had asked for her help in picking up the laundry. It didn't take long for Siesta to realize that her mind had gone off tangent (again) and she started imagining things that were never there. She really should've known better anyway. He had that 'innocent' (though others might call it stupid) feel about him that just said he wasn't the type of person to ask for that kind of thing.
It wasn't like she was disappointed or anything.
...
Yep, not at all.
"Here, the edges of the skirt," She took said skirt from his hands and held onto the sides of the bottom, "First you fold this inwards like so and then you grab the top," She grabbed the waistband this time, "And you fold it down. It should look similar to a rectangle or a square by the time you're done with it."
"Like a shield," Raziel commented with a slight smile, "Why does master have...so many clothes?" He grabbed another cloth from the pile - a uniform shirt this time - and started folding it like Siesta told him, "Seems so difficult."
"Everybody needs a change of clothes. Life would be so difficult if we all wore the same thing all the time." Siesta replied.
"But... it is the same," He pointed at the black and white maid uniform, "You wore it yesterday...why not remove it?"
"This...This is different," She blushed and grabbed turned towards the pile of clothes again. He really needed to work on his phrasing, "This is my official uniform for the academy and my job. I can't exactly wear what pleases me whenever I want."
"Why not?" Raziel found talking with her to be quite relaxing for his head. The noises of the water being wrung from the clothes, the chirping birds that were beginning to wake up, and even their own conversation consistently blocked out the bits and pieces of disjointed memory that went into his head every 2 minutes. While he did want to find out more about his past, he wasn't exactly willing to burst his head open for them. It would come more slowly.
"Academy rules, of course!" She smiled good-naturedly at the oblivious Undead, "Everyone wears a designated uniform as long as they stay here. From the lowliest servant to the headmaster himself, everyone follows these rules."
Raziel suddenly felt self-conscious at the clothes he wore. Looking down, he saw the hole at the front of his chest and half of his right sleeve burnt off past his elbow.
Siesta saw his gaze and immediately moved to correct him, "Oh no, don't worry about it! Because of your...unique situation, the rule doesn't apply to you," She reassured him.
"But I thought the rule applies to everyone?"
"Well, it does! But...oh, just stop worrying!" By habit, she slapped his right arm playfully.
Well, playfully for her. Raziel felt like he'd just been smacked with a hammer. Damn pyromancy, he needed to get it in control soon to prevent another roasting. Siesta quickly realized her mistake and moved to apologize.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! It's just that I'm used to doing it when I'm joking with friends and-"
"It's alright," Raziel forced himself to smile. Damn it hurt, "You helped me earlier...it's okay," He sucked in a pained cry and grabbed the last piece of cloth from the fountain. They had to lightly dip the clothes in again since it got too crusty from being out in the sun too much. Laundry was so complicated.
"No wait, let me handle that. You're hurt." She grabbed the uniform's sleeve and pulled it towards her gently. Raziel didn't let go, "No really, I insist."
"It's okay...I'll do it." He tugged the uniform's body towards him, "I don't mind...please let me."
Raziel grabbed the uniform first, Siesta tried to grab it from him afterwards. What started out as friendly insistence soon turned to an impromptu tug of war game between maid and warrior. Siesta only had hold of the sleeves so she didn't have much material to pull on, but she had the advantage of both hands not being charred meat. An advantage she was all too willing to take
"No, I insist!" She'd stood up now, grabbing the right sleeve with both hands and pulled.
What came next was sort of a blur. Raziel let go of the shirt's body; the frustration and burning feeling on his right arm making him lose his grip and crippling his normal strength. Siesta, who had continued to tug on the now vacant piece of cloth and - and now lacking a counter-force to her pulling - ended up falling backwards towards the fountain with nothing to balance her.
"Siesta!" Instincts kicked in quickly and he rushed forward, trying to grab her before she fell. He couldn't fight as effectively as he one could - or at least not yet - but surely even he could stop someone from falling, right?
Judging by the splash and spluttering sounds, he'd ultimately failed in his task.
Both Raziel and Siesta coughed and spluttered, doing their best to ensure none of the water clogged up their noses or got into their mouth. Somehow the thought of swallowing water that his master's/Miss. Valliere's underwear had been in recently didn't really appeal to either of them. The former in particular would've liked to avoid being poisoned since he didn't have any moss on him.
"Siesa...are you okay?" Raziel shook his head to shake the water off. At least it didn't stick like the waters in Blighttown.
Siesta didn't answer, too busy trying to keep her thoughts in check. She'd narrowly avoided having her entire body dunked in the small fountain's waters due to Raziel's efforts. He had managed to wrap his right hand around her back and used his left to as a sort of pillar to keep stable; a temporary solution. The water in the fountain had splashed all over their upper bodies, though it had thankfully avoid their lower parts.
Unfortunately, this had the unintended side-effect of them being stuck. Already Raziel's remaining arm shook from the effort of keeping both him and the flustered maid from falling, and the fact that his arm bandages were being doused in water didn't help.
If he let go of Siesta now he could avoid falling in, but then she would fall and the entire thing would've have been pointless. On the other hand, Siesta really couldn't do much of anything since her legs were already halfway into falling completely and her arms were wrapped around his upper body. Once Raziel's arm gave away, momentum would take them again and they would fall.
"I'll live, thank you," She tried to speak as calmly as she could. Her eyes were already wandering around his chest. While she was lucky enough to wear black, he had the misfortune to wear white, and now his bare chest was easily seen through the moist cloth.
Well...bare might have been an exaggeration. Siesta didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed that bandages covered just about every inch of his chest, save for a few empty areas on his upper left side. Then again, there most likely would have been a lot of burns under the bandages, so maybe she should have been glad.
Siesta found it kind of silly. Shouldn't she have been disgusted? Her friend was a walking example on the dangers on fire magic. Over half his body seemed to be burnt or injured at any given time and he wore dirty and destroyed clothes. People with his description would have been used on lectures to scare mages on the dangers of magic or examples for soldiers to avoid getting hit by gunfire and magic. He looked broken.
And yet she couldn't find herself to be disgusted, not even a bit. Was it because she felt pity for his state or gratitude for saving her earlier? She honestly didn't know.
"That's good," Raziel grimaced as his left arm shook again. He wouldn't last much longer, "I'm really wet," He said the first thing that came to his mind.
The blush on her face intensified even more before she managed to get her thoughts in order again. He didn't mean what she thought he meant, and she REALLY needed to stop reading so many trashy romance novels, "We'll dry off when we get out of here," Right now she was wishing she just fell in. It would've at least look less compromising.
Ask and you shall receive.
Raziel's arm finally gave way and both of them found themselves plummeting down towards the fountain. With a loud splash, the two flailed around on the fountain for just a few seconds before finally getting control of themselves.
"Mr. Familiar?" She turned towards him and immediately had to resist the urge to laugh.
Raziel had practically faceplanted on the fountain. His stomach was on the fountain's edge and his butt hung in the air; his legs and arms flailing comically as he tried to balance himself and move out of the water's range. She probably would have been better off asking if he was okay, but the urge to laugh and her refusal to do so meant she was tongue tied at the moment.
Siesta herself was no better off: She'd landed butt first on the fountain and her skirt had spread around like a blimp, exposing her undergarments to anyone who happened to pass by. Still, she was better off than him all things considered.
She was the first to pull herself up, quickly grabbing his flailing arms and dragging him out of the fountain afterwards. Raziel took a few deep gulps of air before giving her a grateful nod. He thought he was going to die there, which might have been convenient since Siesta had told him about bonfires earlier - apparently they were called Fireplaces and Hearth's around here. Oh well, he wasn't going to question their naming sense.
"Flames," He grunted and looked at the bandages on his arms. It had gotten wet, along with every other part of his upper body. He needed to change them.
"Mr. Familiar, we should change those bandages," Siesta suggested, smiling re-assuredly and brandishing the bandages she had from earlier. They had stayed dry, much to Siesta's good fortune.
And much to Raziel's great misfortune.
"It's alright...I can-" He didn't get to finish before Siesta forced him to sit down on the ground and remove his wet shirt, "I'm okay-"
"Oh hush, just let me help," She pursed her lips and began unwrapping the bandages. She wouldn't take no for an answer. This unfortunately meant he would start feeling like he was wearing a slime all over his body.
Raziel could have fought her off; he was certainly stronger than her and he could still use his pyromancy as a desperation attack if need be. But, there was something in the way she was so concerned about him that made him stop. In his fractured memories, he couldn't recall anyone ever being so concerned for him. Sure Solaire and Siegmeyer gave him token amounts of concern, but they never actually helped him in this capacity before. This was the first time he had experienced something like this.
"Mr. Familiar, does it hurt anywhere?" He shook his head, and she somehow missed how he gritted his teeth at how tight the bandages on his arms were, "Alright, then I'll unwrap the bandages on your chest and we can finish. Please stay still."
Siesta unwrapped the bandages around his chest slowly, mentally preparing herself to see whatever horror lied behind the thick cloth.
As it turns out? Not as bad as she thought.
When she removed the bandages she expected dark red skin. She expected his body to look like it had gotten mangled by a rabid dog and then burnt by an irate fire mage. What she found instead were patches of red that looked like they were already halfway finished healing. Sure they were red and numerous, but they looked more like light crimson spots than deep injuries of a fatal man. With a small sigh of relief, Siesta began her work.
Now that Raziel's mind was no longer distracted, the memories began to eke in again. He just let them in this time. Maybe the headache would at least distract him from the feeling on his arms.
"-why is this no surprise?"
"Because our destinies run together- ...like two rivers that have crossed and can never be distinct again. At your every fatal turn, you will find me."
"And the free will that you said was mine, what has become of that?"
"You still have it. And that has everything to do with my presence here now."
"It was your machinations that set everything in motion. The coin you tossed has struck. Now you must abide by its outcome."
"The coin is still turning- ...To reach the resolution we both can live with-"
"Because you do not wish it? Is my free will to be exercised only when it accords to your whim-"
"All done!" Raziel was jarred out of the memory by Siesta's chirpy voice, "You don't have as much burns as the nurses think. I only found a few patches and they already look like they're healing."
Shaking his head to get rid of the memory, he felt around his chest and sighed in relief. They weren't as constricting as the bandages on his arms and Siesta had managed to copy the previous pattern the nurses had given him earlier. At least he would still be able to dodge and roll if a fight happened.
"Thank you." God's, that memory felt odd. Was that one of those coming from his late journey? The two voices sounded completely unfamiliar to him.
"You're welcome!" Siesta nodded cheerfully, "I have to go Mr. Familiar. My duties can't wait and I need to change uniform before my shift officially starts. See you later!"
Raziel smiled and waved goodbye at his friend. Taking a few more seconds to catch his breath, he put on his discarded shirt and grabbed the pile of laundry before making his way back to his master's bedroom.
As expected, he had gotten lost...again. Sunrise was coming and he found himself once again wandering the halls of the school; trying to figure out how to get back to his master's bedroom. The next time he left that room he would make a map or leave a trail of prism stones or something. Even Anor Londo wasn't this bad, and that place had him walk on the rooftop's thin walkways.
And as if that weren't bad enough, he had to run into someone he really didn't want to meet right now.
Guiche paced at the entrance of the door, memorizing lines in his mind and shaking his head constantly at whatever bothered him. Raziel immediately made to turn around before he caught sight of him, but he was too late.
"You!" The blond hair, the flamboyant pose, the annoying voice, and the stupid rose. Yes, it was him; the sorcerer who had asked him to duel. He was inwardly hoping that he just run into another flamboyant idiot with no sense, but he was apparently one of a kind when it came to that.
"Oh by the God's," Raziel muttered silently to himself. He didn't need this right now.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Despite his commanding words, Guiche didn't move from his spot against the door. In fact, Raziel could see his legs shaking even as he struck another dramatic pose with his rose, "There is a question I would like to ask of you."
"What?" Raziel did his best to keep his voice level. He shouldn't be holding grudges. After all, he won that duel - even if it was by technicality - and he still didn't go through his promise of firing Siesta or killing him.
"I...I would just like to confirm something," Guiche mumbled, suddenly losing the commanding voice, "I had heard that Valliere and the headmaster are not posing charges to either my father or the entire Gramont family. Is this true?"
While she was a 'Zero', Louise was still a member of the esteemed Valliere family; the second most powerful family in all o Halgakenia. While Guiche had forgotten in all his impulsiveness, he remembered later on that he had technically killed her Familar. Or at least he appeared to have done so. Killing a Familiar was considered a grave crime. Even if he was an actor playing as her Familiar, he couldn't take the risk of upsetting the laws of her family.
Hmm, he did hear something about that, "Um, yes...they aren't," Right, that old sorcerer mentioned something about not pressing charges due to one reason or another. Honestly he didn't really pay attention since he didn't think it concerned him all that much.
"T...Truly? Are you lying in order to spite me?" Guiche asked.
"No..."
"W-Well then, that's good!" His confidence had returned to his voice once again and he found himself re-invigorated, "Well then, send a message to your master for me, would you?"
Raziel nodded silently, already eager to leave his presence.
"Tell her that I thank her for not taking this to our families and..." He stopped and mumbled something incoherently. To the average person he might have been impossible to hear, but to someone who had learned to listen for the smallest sounds he could hear it just fine, "That I apologize for taking things too far. For both you and her."
He was apologizing? That was a surprise. Technically Guiche wasn't expecting him to hear the next bit, but it was the thought that counted, "Understood," Raziel bowed politely at him before looking at the door Guiche was standing in front of. The blond nobleman noticed his gaze and sighed.
"I'm trying to apologize to Montmorency but she won't speak to me. And neither will Katie for that matter. I guess her concern for me only lasted till- Hey, why am I telling you this anyway? Go tell your master my message!"
With an amused roll of the eyes, Raziel left the planning noble to his musings. He needed to deliver that message.
"Where have you been!?"
The first thing that greeted Raziel when he opened the door was his master's voice yelling at him.
"Gone without permission and you leave till the start of the day! What were you thinking!?" Louise stomped around the room angrily, yelling at him for whatever crossed her mind, "And what in the void happened to your arm!? Did you get in a fight with a fire mage this time!?"
"I got the laundry," He held up the basket of dried clothes and, just for a second, Louise's feature's softened and a look of surprise crossed her eyes. It didn't take long for her to go back to angry though.
"You didn't answer my second question." Louise tsked and pointed at his right arm, which had noticeable more bandages than the last. They also looked tighter on his skin, but that didn't matter much to her.
Raziel shrugged and mumbled, "Accident," He didn't want to tell her about his wrecked pyromancy. He would get in control of it soon anyway.
"Well you still should have asked for my permission!" Louise reminded him angrily, though a hint of embarrassment had crossed into her voice. Evidently she'd expected him to go out and do something without forethought - which was in fact his original plan when he first left - not leave for laundry she herself had actually forgotten because of everything that had happened; accident notwithstanding.
"Come on, we need to go into town to get you a new weapon. Don't want you to try and cut off the tail of Tabitha's dragon again."
...But he liked cutting dragon's tails off. They made a nice squishy sound when he pierced his sword through them and dragon's always had this tendency to give off a really satisfying cry when they realized that they just lost a major appendage.
Flames, he really needed to focus.
"Come on, we'll get a horse from the stables.:
On the way to the stables, Raziel explained how he had met Guiche and the message that he had been sent to give. He left the part of the message about the apology out however. Guiche obviously didn't want it to be known that he was apologizing and Raziel wasn't going to press it on Louise without his consent. He'd apologize himself if he really needed to.
Louise had brushed off the message. Obviously he was just trying to kiss up to her good will because he thought she had the power to make complaints against his family. If she did have that kind of power, she would've used it a long time ago.
"Here, since this is just a simple trip to town we'll just be using one horse."
Raziel wasn't listening to her, too entranced at the thing sitting at the stable's entrance. It reminded him of a wolf somewhat, only larger - though way small than Sif - and less furry. It stood on all fours and its nose and mouth were elongated downwards. Across the back of its brown body he could see some sort of leather accessory that looked liked armor, along with a few rope things hanging from its mouth. It was one of the most bizarre things he'd seen since his escape from the flames.
"What, don't tell me you don't know what a horse is?" When he continued to stare, Louise sighed and palmed her head against her face, "This is horse. We use for transportation to various places." She explained slowly. For Brimir's sake, it was like she was talking to a child!
"Transportation?" Now that he understood. Only, how was this 'horse' supposed to fly? It didn't look to have any wings, unlike the Asylum crow or the demon in Anor Londo.
"Yes, transportation" Louise sarcastically complimented. With a weary sigh, she climbed atop the horses saddle before pulling him up. It took a few tries at first, mostly because he kept falling or refused to get on without the construct sword she'd already thrown away, but the two of them finally managed to get on the saddle and Louise spurred them forward.
The 2 hour ride was spent in silence. Louise focused on the road ahead, mentally counting on how much she'd spend buying both a decent blade and some armor to replace the rags he wore along with trying to ignore the vice grip her Familiar had around her stomach. It was a good thing she hadn't eaten breakfast yet or else she'd probably be finding herself tasting it a second time.
Raziel for his part simply marveled at the horses speed. If he had one of these things in Lordran then his journey would've gone MUCH easier.
It was nearly mid-morning when they reached the town, and damn if it wasn't a beautiful sight: The first thing the two of them saw was the grand palace, home of the royal family and the most important place in all of Tristain. What followed afterwards was the village itself; houses, establishments, and various other buildings met them head on as the horse got closer to the town's entrances.
While Louise looked up at the royal palace, Raziel looked below. The people there were so diverse. Some yelled out for people to buy their wares while families spent the day together in each others company. While he had seen a lot of people during his stay in his master's school, this was his first time seeing an area so rich and diverse...but so well balanced. Everything looked so perfectly placed there.
"Hey, this is your first time in a town like this, right? What do you think of it?"
"Like a world of wonders."
Alright, done! Now to answer some questions and then I'll go get some sleep.
Rickrolled - What do you mean "21'st century personality"? Is it because of the way he talks? I tend to have a problem with this myself since I often question of making him talk semi-modernly in the flashbacks is a good thing or not. Any tips on this? I really don't want to go on the "Old English route" unless it's for characters like Gough or Gwyndolin who canonically talk like that.
Oh, and for the lore questions: Give me any info on Manus you can find. I wanna know everything about this guy. PM me when you can.
Demon's Anarchy - Honestly, Dragon form isn't that impressive. All it really does is give you a dragon head that farts out flame and NOTHING ELSE. She'd be scared at first...till she realizes only his head changed and the dragon stone gave him a major case Giraffe neck. Then she'd laugh.
Random Guy - See, this is why I like reviewers like you: You read my answers and, even if you say you disagree with them, you still say you accept them. I have no problem with you not liking them, I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. Anyway, whether you continue to read the story or not, thanks for the criticism. Always nice to meet someone who doesn't throw tantrums when they don't get their way.
Anon - So purposely portraying the bratty nobles as idiotic early in the story means I'm trolling now? Alright, don't let the door hit you on the way out.
DaggerDoom -Shifted to PM instead.