Well, my first M rated chapter :) Hopefully I can keep up my writing and you guys keep reading. The Albion arc is where some additions start happening. Anyway, I spent the past week thinking up ideas for the Karin/Marianne story. I'll go back to that once this chapter ends.
Now this chapter might be a bit confusing to some people. We're going to be shifting between the past and present segments without any borders, so I'll just bold the past segments so you can differentiate it.I just want to finish this chapter quick so we can get to the Albion arc. I've been dragging out the Fouquet and Mott arcs as it is.
One last note for the flashback chapters: I'm not even gonna bother with trying to write the dialogue in old English - Its annoying and makes it hard to flow. Just assume that translation convention is at work and that the old English is being translated to modern English. If I try, I'll just make some really embarrassing mistakes.
Anyway, can anybody tell me if this chapter can get away with a T rating? When you finish reading, mention it in the review.
Pain was the first thing to greet Raziel he returned to consciousness. This was quickly followed by darkness and the sounds of sobbing. Trying to ignore the pain in his mid-section, he placed both hands on the cold stone floor and forced himself to stand. He needed to get out of here now, and fast. Siesta was still up there and that crazed Count was trying to use her as fuel for his experiments.
Another spasm of pain sent him crashing down into the floor. Mimicking a ragged breath, he rolled to the side and threw a weary gaze down at his chest. His tunic had been torn, the leather jacket and the white cloth having a large hole in its mid-section. He placed a shaking hand back at where the crystal had impaled him and sucked in a breath of pain. It still hurt, and he could see the pale skin dotted with jagged marks and scratches from where the crystal had entered. Although his human form was mostly a hallucination, there were still other things capable of disrupting the image.
Crystals were one of them. He closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from breathing; he had done it out of habit since he saw no harm in it, but every breath he took now sent worsening gasps of pain to course through him. Crystals were one of the few things that could truly hurt the Undead considerably. Oh sure, they fell to swords and sorcery, but a quick trip to the bonfire usually fixed that. Crystals affected them far more than the worst spells; it disrupted the darksigns hold on their body and made them feel true pain. Worse than any broken bone or any torn skin.
He looked down at his right arm before forcing himself to move it as well. He suppressed another cry as the impaled wound became agitated. He hated crystal sorcery, he really did. Seath and his experiments caused nothing but suffering. And for what? Because he was selfish and wanted to understand why he wasn't the same as all the other dragons. That Count was making a mistake, and they would all pay the price.
"Hey, he's alive," A voice to his right called out. Raziel looked at the direction of the voice, though he couldn't make out much through the darkness, "I'm surprised the Count left you alive. Most of the men he puts in here are changed before they even wake up."
Attempting - and actually succeeding - to stand again, he placed both hands against the rough stone wall and leaned into it as he stood up on wobbly legs: Great, he could at least stand now. Taking a step further, he began to walk towards where he had heard the voice. It didn't take a genius to realize that he was in a cell, and someone else talking meant he wasn't alone. Talking with anyone would help his situation right now.
He placed a hand against the rusted metal of the cage. The damnable lizard had placed him here after he had lost consciousness; no doubt intending to do some kind of experiment on him. He looked around the cell he had been placed in: It was wide, no doubt intended to hold multiple captives, but right now he was its only denizen.
A few steps to his left he could see a dead body, its skin rotted with exposed crystals. He placed hand on it and raised a deformed eyebrow curiously - Its skin was hard and the crystal refused to budge. It was as if the crystal had merged with its body. He grabbed one of its thin hands and looked down at the remains of peach colored skin. This thing used to be a human, although now it was just skeleton infused with crystal.
Was that the fate that awaited him? He looked down at his skeletal hands. He doubted that the lizard could do much to worsen his condition, although it did seem to know him. What did that thing call him again? ...Manus, if he was remembering correctly. The name was unclear to him, and he doubted that the overgrown lizard truly knew his name.
But it was a name, which was one of the things he was sorely lacking right now. It would do till he recovered his memories.
Manus placed a hand against the gate once again before shaking it roughly. This thing was rotted and could easily be removed. No doubt the monster was used to the idea of experimenting on afraid and helpless victims. He was not going to be the same. Clenching a hand against the metal, he wasn't even surprised as he saw it bend against his palm. Seath may have been stronger than him, but his new body had its share of benefits.
He needed answers. That thing had called him a Fallen God, and he had no idea why. Although he doubted that the monster would talk, so killing him was likely the course of action he would need to take.
"I'm surprised you're still alive."
Raziel stared at the person talking to him. It was a girl, likely no older than his new form or Siesta. She wasn't alone; he could see many of them, girls ranging from children to their early adulthood. All female, as expected. Firekeepers were traditionally women and Seath's notes would no doubt indicate that he chose women as test subjects. Gwyenevere's handmaiden's were his most frequent targets. After all, who could be considered more pure than maidens who served than the Goddess of Fertility.
He could see the runes on his left hand glowing, the memories filtering into his mind, but he chose to ignore it. He needed to save Siesta, "What is this place? Who are you?" He tried to ignore the sobbing of the children. It may have been cold, but he was far too used to the depravity both man and monster were capable of to honestly act surprised at every tragedy that he saw. He was so used to it that it didn't matter anymore. He needed to focus.
"What do you think? We're the people Count Mott hired," The girl, a young lass with long dark brown hair and eyes, replied, "All of us are servants that he hired from places he visited. He keeps telling us that we're all special and that only people with our 'purity' could fit with his grand plan," She sneered at him, "And then he places us all in here and takes one of us every few days. All the guards and the other servants know about us, but they don't want to do anything. They think its alright as long as they turn a blind eye."
His gaze turned to the girls behind her. They were all sickly, and he could tell by their patchwork clothing that they had been here for a while now. The older females were comforting the children, hugging them tightly and telling them everything would be alright. He noted grimly that some of the older ones had blood at the bottom of their robes and that they were all sitting down.
Just like Anastacia.
"I see..." He turned to look at the cell around him. His eyes had finally gotten used to the darkness and he found the large cell he had been placed into was weirdly empty; no bodies, no items...and no Deflinger. He sighed. He should have expected that, of course. Only a fool would have placed the sword next to him so he could use it when he woke up. He dully noted that that there also wasn't a guard that conveniently had his back turned towards him. The Count apparently didn't take everything he knew from Seath to heart.
"The bigger question is why you're here," She pointed at him, "Most males here takes don't even get placed into cells - Usually they're turned into those monsters that we see from time to time," Monsters? How much of Seath's notes did that mad aristocrat get his hands on? "You've been asleep there for a couple of hours now. Is there a reason that you're getting special treatment?"
"I have some idea as to why," He turned and walked to the gate of the cell. It was sturdy, and the metal was still relatively new. He traced a hand against the framework; the metal was too thick to melt through, so Pyromancy was already out. The only other option would be to force it down with brute force, and that would no doubt attract the attention of anyone passing by.
Oh well, it wasn't like he wasn't going to kill everyone that stood in his way to the Count. May as well start early.
"Hey, what are you doing?" His companion cringed as he slammed audibly against the metal door, "Hey, if you're trying to escape then you might as well give it up. The Count made sure to lock the doors and fortify the metal in the door. No normal human can break down those doors," Well it was a good thing he wasn't a normal human then. He smashed against the door again, and this time he felt the metal bend outwards. He was getting closer to breaking it down.
"...Why are you even here, anyway?" She didn't bother warning him again. If he wanted to dislocate his shoulder, then that was fine with her. She got tired to of seeing people try to kill themselves in order to escape. Maybe he would learn a lesson, "You're the first male we've seen in a long time. Most of the others were either killed or turned to sentries. So why are you here?"
"I am trying to help my friend," Another crash and another half an inch of movement. Things were improving, at least, although his chest wound was getting agitated again, "Siesta was taken by the Count and the head chef told me that she might have been in danger. I was willing to trade a book for her, but the contents are too dangerous to give. The Count is making a mistake." One that would cost him his life.
"Siesta? Wait, you came from the Magic Academy?" He nodded briefly before kicking against the door. Almost done, "So Siesta's here too, huh," She frowned, "Me, Anna, Charlotte and Laura were the last four people he took. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he took Siesta too: He's looking for people he thinks are 'pure', after all. Anyone who's working for their family could be called that.
"I am almost done," He stretched his arm lightly before punching the heavy metal. Just one more push would be enough, "Can all of you walk?" He didn't want to leave them here. He couldn't escort them out, but he could give them a chance to escape.
"What's the point?" She replied, "Half of us are crippled and we can't escape even if we tried. Even if you break that door down, then what? There are still monsters roaming around the hallways and there are also guards on the actual mansion upstairs. We're not going to get out of here. Or are you telling me that you plan to kill every monster and guard between us and the exit?"
"Yes," With one last push, the door crashed to the ground loudly.
Manus stumbled onto the spiral stairways edge, laughing slightly at the sound of the crashing of the rusted metal door behind him. He didn't know much about Seath right now, but anyone foolish enough to place him in a cell with no other restrictions and bindings certainly didn't deserve his respect. He pushed himself off the stairway and briefly looked around: The tower around him was more malevolent than the architecture from earlier, and he could see multiple cells both above and below him. He wasn't the only one here.
He would need to make his way down. He looked down at the cells below him and scowled at their inhabitants: Men and women of varying ages, all human. He had to find a way to release them. He wouldn't go out of his way to protect them, but they deserved just as much as a chance as he did. The monstrous lizard didn't deserve to have his ambitions realized.
A brief clicking snapped him out of his reverie. He looked down and saw a humanoid snake hybrid coming up the stairs quickly, flailing a large broadsword around with obvious violent intent. He clenched both his hands into fists quickly before making charging at it. This thing wouldn't survive their encounter.
"Its already dead!" Raziel blinked and looked down at his hands. They were covered in a dark green liquid that smelled repugnant. He knew what it was: The blood of a snake-man. The smell and texture of the blood was too familiar to him.
He could make out a body beneath him, although identifying it accurately would be difficult. He kneeled down and ran a hand through its contents. Calling it mangled would have been an insult - There was barely any trace of the body that once was. He rummaged through the open stomach before placing its against his nose. The blood smelled odd. He rummaged again before pulling out one of its destroyed intestines and placing it against his nostrils again. He could smell feel traces of Humanity beneath all the blood. What were these things being fed?
"Hey, stop doing that!" She called out, "You're scaring the kids! Stop it!"
Raziel stared at her blankly before tossing the organ back, "As you wish," He tended to forget that people weren't used to acts of violence and observation around here. He shook his head and began to examine the corpse's pouch. The snakes from the archives and and Sen's fortress were armored, meaning they were hard to kill without weapons. By contrast, these things wore patchwork cloth that could barely considered clothes.
It was actually reminiscent of the clothes the females wore. He looked back at the girls tattered brown robe before examining it; same material and mostly the same length. But they were obviously male: Seath's experiments were divided between two sections - Females were experiment on in an attempt to turn into Firekeepers while males were turned into mindless snake-men to serve as Seath's guard. He smiled slightly when he felt something metallic touching against his skin; the key. He wiped it against the wall before nodding. This was their way out.
He felt no guilt killing the transformed monstrosity: All of the test subjects lost control of their minds, being forced to watch as their malformed body did their masters bidding. Killing them would be a mercy.
"I found the key." He called out to them.
"I can see that," He rolled her eyes at her biting remark. No doubt she felt no need to be polite considering her experiences, "But we're not going to be able to get out of here with all those sentries and the guards up above. Emilia and the others are...incapable of walking," Why did she not just say they had their legs cut off? He wouldn't have minded, "And some of the kids are still too scared of...well, I'm not going to lie: You were kind of scary right there. I can understand being mad, but did you really have to disembowel that guy? I'm pretty sure he died after you snapped his jaw open."
Raziel said nothing, although he did observe the corpse one last time. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing - His memories had overtaken him briefly and he found himself losing focus on reality. When he had regained his senses it was already dead...and apparently he had ravaged it with his bare hands. Great, just what he needed to keep his sanity in check.
"I cannot wait for you," He finally commented, "I have to get upstairs before Siesta...I have to get upstairs," He wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't imagine Siesta caged in a stone prison, her legs chopped off and her tongue taken from her- Damn it, he was thinking of it. Alright, he needed to think pleasant thoughts...like turning the Count's face into a pile of mush that it would be indistinguishable from a dung pie. Yes, that was calming and serene.
"Do you even know the way up from there?" Silence was his reply, "Look, Siesta's my friend and I want you to save her, but are you honestly telling me you're planning to cut through all the monsters and the guards, not to mention the Count himself?" He nodded blankly, "...You're insane, aren't you?" She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Well, if you want to try and get up there without any weapons, I'm not going to stop you. Just a word of advice: The guards said that the torches are used to mark the paths that aren't dead ends. Keep following them if you want to avoid being trapped."
"Thank you," He observed his arms quickly before ripping off the cloth's sleeves reaching up to his shoulders. He needed all the movement he could and the snake-men's blood was slightly corrosive. His dead skin likely wouldn't be affected, but the clothes would be more of a hindrance than they were worth given the situation. He had a feeling he would be using his hands a lot.
"Hey...save Siesta, alright? And tell her Gabrielle and the others want to see her again."
"...Understood," He nodded at her one last time before walking towards the next corridor.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Of course I am, Valliere!" Louise grimaced as Kirche confirmed her suspicions, "Razi came into my room and started asking about a book he wanted to trade with Count Mott in exchange for that servant girl. Then he starts reading the book and the next thing I know he's telling me he doesn't need it. I think he's planning to take that maid back by force."
"That idiot!" Louise's grip on her wand shook. When she had seen that her Familiar was gone, she actually gave him the benefit of the doubt and slept before he returned - He thought that he wouldn't do anything too stupid so close to the day they would leave for Albion. But apparently she was wrong, and she was going to murder her Familiar when she caught him again.
"Where are we going?" She suddenly called out. She thought that they would go to the stables - Kirche for one reason or another insisting on going with her - but right now they were actually ascending the stairway of the tower.
"We're going to see Tabitha," Kirche called back to her, "It takes an hour to get to the Count's castle by foot and he left nearly three hours ago. Going there via Sylphid is faster and will save us more trouble."
"Maybe you should have told me sooner then," She accused lightly.
"Hey, don't blame this on me," Kirche snapped back quickly, "You were the one who was supposed to watch over your Familiar, not me. Where were you anyway? I looked for you for a while and you weren't in the dorm, the bathhouse, or the dining hall."
"...Its none of your business," She pushed past Kirche and started to run up the last few steps. She had gotten the additional details from a messenger owl about their trip to Albion: The Reconquista and the Royalists had stopped their open attack and the latter had officially retreated to their castle for the time being. They would leave in three days - More than enough time for her to prepare herself for the task. She had locked herself in the southern storeroom. It was the only way she could write the response without fear of anyone intruding.
She was starting to regret doing it now.
Inside her room, Tabitha looked down at the letter in her hands. It was obvious what it was: A new mission. Her fingers traced along the envelopes edges before she placed it on the table. Odd, there were no hints of poisons - magical or otherwise - on the paper. Isabella, her 'beloved' cousin, was always quick to try and poison her. She never fell for it, of course; the attempts were always so transparent. That could only mean this mission didn't come from her.
She stared at the paper blankly before opening it slowly. The handwriting...she recognized it. Her lips pursed and a barely noticeable twitch shook her pointer finger. That damned man, he always wrote his missions for her personally. He must have gotten some form of twisted enjoyment with the knowledge that he was writing out attempted death sentences for his niece.
Her eyes scanned over the letters contents before she placed it against the lamp's fire: No need to keep it intact where everybody could read it. With that done, she opened her room's window before jumping out, calling for her Familiar in the process. She had received her orders - Meet her contact in the Tristain capital, where he would introduce her to her new partner for the job.
Another mission, another day her mother got to live.
Manus twisted the hybrid's neck painfully, earning an audible scream in response. Following up, he grabbed the creature's before pushing them in the opposite direction. He flinched as the corrosive blood hit against his skin, although it didn't actually hurt. He waited till the creature stopped twitching before opening his 'mouth' and absorbing its power.
This was the tenth creature he had killed, and it only ever got easier. Every soul he took, every life he ended healed him of his injuries and made him stronger. The wraith looked down at where the creature once was: No trace of the body or their equipment. Sighing, he grabbed the lever it was guarding before pushing it to the opposite side.
A large blare of sound greeted his ears. He looked down at the floors below and 'smiled' (as much as he could given his condition) at the sight of the doors opening. The denizens of the cells looked up in disbelief, unsure of what was happening. They had been freed? How? They looked at where the lever was and found no one.
Raziel jumped onto the snake-man's back before he twisted its neck quickly. The crack of its neck snapping spread throughout the chamber briefly before he felt it go limp in his arms. Shaking his head, he released his grip on the monster before running to the next shadowed corner. Already he could hear footsteps; likely other monsters who had heard his brief struggle.
Their footsteps neared. Two of them, and no one else. He looked at their deformed faces and raised an eyebrow curiously - Their eyes had no irises, only the sickly whites of their eyes. He watched as the pair sniffed the air and slithered their tongue out of their scaly mouths. His eyes widened in realization: These monsters were blind. Deciding to test his theory, he grabbed for a loose stone and chucked it against the opposite wall.
The pair's reaction was instant. They charged at the stone, clawed hands flailing wildly at where they thought the threat originated. He gave a slight smirk: Echolocation. The demented snakes were blind and unable to see through the dark, relying only on their hearing. He moved to the side cautiously, making sure to keep his footsteps level. The amount of light he had on him didn't matter, but the slightest misstep meant that they would home in on his location.
He grabbed another stone before chucking it at his previous position. This time only one of the snakes walked over to it, its 'partner' still content with trying to search the ground at where he had thrown his first stone. Good, that meant he could take them out one at a time. Grabbing the torch sitting on the wall, he stalked closer to the man-serpent.
Manus grunted as the large creature fell on top of him. Sighing, he placed both hands against the monsters belly before pushing it away from him.
That was the twenty-fourth one. He fed quickly before he looked up the wall in irritation: The door out had been sealed, no doubt in response to his freeing of the prisoners. He placed a hand against the spiked iron. Unlike the door to his cell, the large courtyard gate was strong and obviously well cared for. He rocked it lightly before giving up. There was no way out for him this way.
His eyes caught sight of the escaping forms of the prisoners. Based on his memories of this place, they were actually running towards the exit. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least they would gain the chance to get away. He turned to the opposite wall and sighed again. The door was at the top and the ladder leading up to it had been broken. He would need to go further in if he wanted to find the scaly monster again.
He supposed it made sense: The only way further in was through a path no normal humans could take: The Channelers could transport themselves across large distances and had no need for stairs while Seath himself was unlikely to pass through here. Manus traced a metallic hand against the wall carefully. The surface was rough enough that grabbing on was a possibility...
He nodded to himself before jumping up against the wall, "...It worked," He suppressed a laugh as his claw-like hands grabbed onto the rough wall. Removing his right hand carefully, he raised it above his head and pulled himself up. He had found a way to climb, as annoying as it was, "...That Godless swine is going to pay for this..."
Raziel mimicked a pant as the last of the man-serpent's life left its body. Fighting the first had proved easy, but the second one had managed to smash him against the wall before he managed to gouge its eyes out. He scowled and wiped greenish blood against the wall. It wasn't dangerous to him, but the liquid still caused irritation in his skin.
He needed to find a way to confuse them. These creatures moved by echolocation, but the second beast had still managed to differentiate him from its brethren despite their close proximity. He knelt down and observed the snake carefully - He had taken to snapping their jaws and necks in order to kill them quickly. He raised a hand and placed it against its mouth, taking some of its blood before he sniffed it again. There was no doubt about it; these creatures had Humanity in them.
Now the question would be whether it was their own Humanity before they were turned...or had they gorged on their fellow man after the change took hold of them. He scrunched his nose in disgust. The smell was truly overpowering, it didn't surprise him that- Of course! He used both hands to grab for more of the snake's dripping blood. Just because they had lost their sight and relied on their hearing didn't mean that they had lost their sense of smell. The blood of the creatures was obviously recognizable and they used it to tell the difference they each had.
He shivered slightly as he smeared the blood against his clothes. Already he could feel the acid-like liquid beginning to chew though his clothing and irritate his skin. Scowling, he tore open the snake's stomach before grabbing at another one of its intestines. He needed to mask his scent, and that meant smearing whatever amount he needed against his clothes.
Frowning slightly, he raised up the elongated organ before smearing it against his face and hair. He felt little worry of his skin and hair dissolving; it was an illusion anyway, so even if he felt the pain it would never actually show. Even if his face had gotten torn off, it would never show...unless he was dealing with Pyromancy or Crystals. Magic had a bad habit of disrupting the illusions the Undead used to disguise themselves.
He continued to apply it to himself a few more times, making sure to avoid his legs and lower body as he was doing it: He needed to avoid adding too much and destroying his clothes completely. He wasn't one of the deprived and he didn't fancy trying to fight the snake men while wearing absolutely nothing. Even the smallest cloth helped ease his paranoia.
Manus cursed under his breath as he finally reached the top of the long gap. It had taken him a good long while to reach the top and he had been expecting to get attacked and pushed down the second he accomplished his goal. Without wasting another moment, he crouched down and began to walk quietly down the halls. He could hear no footsteps, no clinking of armor. He peered around the corner of the hall cautiously and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Not a single soul in the entire area.
What was this place? He stood up from his crouching position and stalked forward slowly. He had expected a few sentries or Channelers, or maybe even an armored boar of some kind, but the barren space caused him no end of paranoia. He looked at the walls; covered in crystal and no traces of cells or books. He had likely gone deeper into the Archives, but to what point?
"Milord..." Seath. His hands shook in anger before he forced himself to calm. Seath had proven to be stronger than him, so he needed to act with intelligence. A head on assault would do little, "You do me great honor...choosing me for this sacred role..."
Manus crouched against the doorway before peeking into the large room. It was a library - He marveled briefly at the large bookcases that dotted the entire area. He could see books, numbering in the hundreds if not the thousands. His eyes circled over the area again; no one there save for two figures. His grip on the large entryway tightened in barely contained anger. He recognized them.
Raziel looked up at the wooden door warily. After multiple twists and turns against the stone tunnels, he actually found a hallway devoid of any creatures or mutants. But was this what awaited him? He touched the front of it gently. He had expected a giant monster, or even a cage filled with multiple man-serpent's and Pisaca. This door...it looked like none of those things. Too flimsy and simple.
Hesitating for just a moment, he raised his hand and pushed the door open.
Louise tightened the dark cloak around her as she spurred her horse forward, "I'm going to kill him!" The horse, seeming to sense her frustration, neighed and galloped against the muddy road faster. Rain made it harder to ride on horseback, but the horses from the academy were trained that they could gallop through a burning forest without any hesitation.
"That's assuming that darling's still alive," Kirche noted grimly, spurring her horse to catch up the tiny pinkette, "He had a sword with him, and you know what happens to a commoner who raises a sword against a noble at their house," Louise didn't reply, "I know he has magic, but is that enough? I heard that the Imperial Messenger is a triangle class fire Mage. As good as he is, most commoners can't fight against Mages without guns or surprise helping them."
"Oh trust me, if there's one thing I know its that he's not going to die easily, " She grit her teeth and stifled a yell as a raindrop hit against her eye. Her Familiar was going to get into so much trouble that he was going to wish he was dead by the time she had finished with him. She had tried to be a patient master, only yelling at him when she disobeyed his orders and acted moronic. She'd even ignored using the whip entirely since she still had a speck of mercy on her. Now she was starting to realize that it was a mistake.
Tabitha wasn't in her room when they had checked, so the pair were forced to get two horses from the stables in order to make it all the way to the Count's estate with any hope of still seeing him alive. Louise looked down at the muddy path and took deep, calming breaths. She should have been preparing for the sacred mission the princess had given her, but instead she had to prevent her Familiar from getting himself killed.
"So how do you plan to explain what happened to the Count?" Kirche asked.
"I'll make up something about my Familiar being brain-damaged - its not too hard to believe - and...then I'll ask my family for an allowance to pay for any damages that might have been caused," She shuddered at the second part. She certainly wasn't looking forward to explaining to her father, mother and (worst of all) Eleanore about why her Familiar rampaged on an estate without her consent.
Kirche looked at Louise and sighed. While she could understand the value of placing your friends above rules and traditions, she had a feeling Raziel had bitten off more than he could chew. The actions of the Familiar were considered the actions of their master, and Raziel's actions would be attributed to Louise, if not the Valliere family as a whole. She had heard of families disowning their children for a sin just to keep their reputation from plummeting even slightly. She hoped Louise wouldn't garner that same fate; she teased and made her life unbearable at times, but even she wouldn't wish disowning on anyone.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence.
'What is this place' Raziel observed the area carefully. It was different from the stone tunnels and metallic prisons, more...serene. His eyes scanned over the contents: The room was somewhat, about the same size as the cell next to where he was placed, and filled to the brim with multiple objects. Unlike the other places he had recently been to, this place was completely devoid of people save for himself. He could make out multiple books and other artifacts that held no value to him, save for one thing in the center of the room.
Was that...? His legs unconsciously moved towards the familiar object. He could feel the power emanating from the object. He crouched down and reached out a blood covered hand, recognizing the object immediately: The sword stabbed into the ground, its metal corroded by crimson flame. His fingers made contact with the blade, and he felt no pain from the contact; only relief, and a sense of comfort.
He knew what it was.
"...Bonfire..." He laughed, not being able help himself. No Undead his rotted arse! Unless he was hallucinating, this was a bonfire right here. Now he just needed to-
"Partner, is that you?" Derf called out, "Damn, it is you! I thought you were dead for a second there!" He laughed, "I knew that weird magic wouldn't be enough to kill you! Hey, pick me up why don't you? This guy's starting to piss me off already with his crystal nonsense."
Raziel blinked and turned to where Derf's voice had come from, "Over here!" The rusted sword called out, leaning against an ornate wooden trunk, "Geez, partner, you look like shit!" He rolled his eyes in annoyance; a nice way to greet his wielder after barely surviving, "Hey, so you mind telling me why you're covered in crap? No offense, but I don't think it fits you. Good thing I can't smell anything."
"It is nice to see you as well," He bit back sarcastically, "Have you any idea where we are?"
"Of course I do, partner," Derf replied with a tone of haughtiness, "After that guy knocked you out, he placed me in here; apparently this place is kind of like a vault where he puts stuff in that he wants to check again later," Of course he did... "Anyway, the stairs going up to the mansion's just ahead of you. Dunno why, but he thought it was a good idea to place his vault in front of the tunnels where you just came from. Don't see the logic in that."
The reasoning was simple enough: Provide easy access to his test subjects. The man-serpent's were likely loyal enough to him and his guards - a side effect of the experimentation making them loyal to their masters and whoever their masters pointed at - that they didn't worry about being attacked. That meant anyone who tried to escape would have to go through both the monsters guarding the halls and the guards stationed up above. He was careful not to leave any back way or secret entrance open in case anyone tried to escape.
It was a good thing he had killed all of them, "Derflinger, we need to get back above."
"Think I don't know that?" He answered, "Anyway, you might want to pick up this guy next to me. He's kinda annoying with the 'Crystals are better than metal' crap he keeps spewing, but he's strong."
Raziel looked next to Derflinger and raised an eyebrow curiously: A crystal straight sword. He picked it up and held it against the lamp's light, marveling at its crystalline make. Crystal weapons were the strongest of their kind...and yet they were also impractical because they couldn't be repaired. He frowned slightly - There was no way for him to keep using this even if he wanted to.
"I know you can't hear him right now, but he's bragging about how much better he is than every other sword," Derf cut in. Raziel threw him a disbelieving look, "No, I'm being serious here! I can understands sword and what they say- Hey, you cocky bastard, who are you calling a piece of rusted junk!? Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm any weaker than you or your fancy crystals!"
Raziel sighed and fastened Derflinger's sheath around his back, making sure to keep the Crystal sword in his left hand. He wasn't ambidextrous, but the runes glowing in his hand reminded him that the old limitations he once had didn't exactly apply to him anymore. The box they were leaning against had garnered his attention. He could make out the obscure markings.
"Bottomless box..." He didn't even try to question how his box had gotten here, of all places. Perhaps he could grab a couple of armors and some souls from-
...
...
...
That...that monster! He grabbed for the bottom of the trunk and searched frantically. All his armors, weapons and leftover souls...gone! He hands clenched against the trunk's side. He was going to kill him quickly and get Siesta out...but not now. He was going to kill him slowly and painfully, make him wish for death...and then he would revive at this bonfire and he would kill him again!
Wait. He tilted his head down and observed the side of the box - Just barely, he could make out a scratch shaped in the number "I". He sighed in relief; he was still safe. He had more than one bottomless box; one might question the logic of keeping more than one bottomless box, but his past self apparently wanted to keep organized: "I" contained spare armors and weapons he found no use for; "II" contained most of his leftover souls; "III" contained some of his stronger weapons and armor; and "IV" held the spirits of the strongest monsters he had killed.
Now the question was how Mott had taken it. Last he had checked, he had left all four boxes in front of the Lordvessel and taken only the essentials that he needed in order to fight Gwyn. How had it left the Lordvessel and made its way here?
...He shook his head and sighed; he needed to focus. He stood up from his kneeling position and began to make his way to the bonfire. Once he got healed, he would be able to fight against the Count easier. With that thought in mind, he sat down in front of the burning sword and lent a part of his flame to it. It was a process that most Undead were instinctively aware of.
As soon as the fire bathed him, he felt all pain disappear and the blood smeared around his body evaporate in a hist of smoke. He noted with some slight relief that the clothes he wore were mostly intact, although he spent a few souls repairing them just in case. Cloth and other light armor could be repaired directly with souls while metals and leathers needed a blacksmithing kit. At least he looked a bit more presentable now.
"Ngghhh," Raziel turned around and raised his sword. He thought he was the only one here, but upon closer inspection he could make out a moving figure lying prone on the ground. He stood up and warily made his way to the squirming body, making sure to keep both hands prepared in case of possible attack. He couldn't see their appearance - their entire body being covered by a large piece of tattered cloth - but he couldn't stop the feeling of dread from encompassing him as he got closer.
Steeling himself, he grabbed the cloth and tore it away roughly, "...Ugh," He closed his eyes and turned away at the sight. How could he have forgotten? Bonfires needed Firekeepers in order to be made. And if one couldn't find a Firekeeper who had the perfect soul, why not make your own? Insert Humanity into a female and hope that their soul was 'pure' enough to handle the strain. If they could, then they were only half-deformed.
"...Pisaca," He observed the figure closely. The form was still humanoid, but under her torn cloth he could make out scaly skin - She was halfway finished through the process. He grabbed her face gently and made her face him. An blank right eye turned to look at him, the left side of her face already deformed with with bloated blue skin and tentacles.
"Aaahh..." She opened her mouth, and a spiky blue appendage in lieu of a tongue weakly tried to grasp at him. He didn't even try to back away to avoid it, instead focusing the area of her legs. He grabbed the cloth before raising it away from her - As expected, her legs had been cut off. He grimaced as he saw the traces of dry blood and exposed bone. How could she have survived this long? Someone had to have come down here to heal her every day to make sure she didn't die. Looking closer, he could see traces of old food around the area where her mouth was. So she was being fed and healed.
It was a ritualistic process - Cut of the legs so they could not escape their destiny, and cut off their tongue if they dared to complain about their role. Anastacia had suffered under the same fate, and now so too did she. He could barely even see her human traits; all he could distinctly make out were the remains of red hair. She was too far gone to save.
He stood up again and made his way to the bonfire. He had to make this quick: Closing his eyes, he focused on the souls he had taken since his time here. Souls were used by the Undead in order to augment themselves. He hadn't taken much souls in the short time that he he had been here, but it would be enough to empower himself for a bit. Just enough to kill him.
And of course he had no Estus Flasks on him. He sighed - The flask had been destroyed by Gwyn during their final engagement and he still couldn't manage to find a replacement.
He waited till the last drop of soul energy had been spent before making his way back to her. She looked at him again, mouth moving and muttering something he couldn't make out. He took one last look at the bonfire before placing the crystal sword against her neck. One slash and she would be dead, and he would be deprived of a bonfire and source of power.
"Why do you fight for her? Do you not see how she wished to die? How death is much more merciful than an eternity in that prison?" Lautrec's words echoed at him. His grip on the sword shook and he looked away, but his hands remained firm. In one breath, he brought the sword across the remains of her neck and waited as the life left her body.
"...Thank you..."
He refused to look at her, even as he felt her energy entering his body. She was dead...and so was Mott.
The Count smiled, staring at Siesta's unconscious form. She had tried to resist earlier, claiming that she had seen him attack her friend. How absurd: The Commoner had drawn a sword and attacked his guards. He was simply defending himself against one who was blind to the sacrifices they all had to make. Yes, he had caused pain and suffering, but what of the results? All of them could be stronger than even the mightiest Elf.
His right hand caressed her face gently. Many thought that he took females in order to rape them and then kill them after they showed signs of bearing his child. Hah, feeble minded fools. Raping them posed the danger of damaging any purity they had, not mention that it was pointless. He admired their forms, their nubile bodies so replete with untapped potential, but that was all. He disliked cruelty purely for the sake of it. He did things with a purpose.
His smile vanished as he heard the sounds of crashing and screams. Turning around, he did his best to keep his surprise hidden as he saw one of his guards tossed bodily through his study's entryway, his entire body bleeding profusely from the wounds inflicted upon his body. Following behind him, Mott saw the commoner from before stalk into the room slowly.
"Let Siesta go..."
"Milord...I am honored that you would choose me for this sacred task..." Manus crouched and made sure to keep his footsteps quiet. He needed to be careful, "I...trust that...this comes with good reason?"
"Of course," The voice that replied was familiar, although he couldn't place it exactly where. He looked at its source and found an old man in gleaming golden armor, his entire body surrounded by a fierce light: It was an illusion. He wasn't really there. He observed him carefully - He was tall, easily taller than he was, but not larger than the white dragon. On his back he could see a fiery greatsword, its entire body covered by a fierce flame. Despite his advanced age, Manus could tell that he had a power that no one else possessed.
He saw Seath hold something in his clawed hands: A soul of power in the shape of a flame. Manus felt a bout of irritation hit him at the sight of the bright power - He hated it, and yet he did not understand why.
"I am entrusting to you, one of my most loyal subjects, with the the task of overseeing that which is most important to this land," The old man called out again before the shimmering form of the illusion faded slightly, "Time grows short, as does my power. You must keep it safe, else this land will fall into darkness and corruption. The darkness surrounds us."
The figure vanished. Manus watched Seath closely and he could have sworn that the lizard was smiling as he ate the soul: It wouldn't destroy it, but rather merge it with Seath himself till its owner decided to reclaim it from him. In the meantime, he was willing
But it gave him a chance. He clenched his fist and watched as darkness consumed his rotted flesh. Seath may have gotten stronger from the power, but he had also gained its vulnerabilities. Light and Dark could never co-exist: One always tried to destroy the other. The strength he had manifested came from the dark and the abyss that had been his prison.
And it would be Seath's undoing. He stepped out of the shadow's embrace and glared at the dragon as he turned around, watching its hate-filled eyes looking at him in slight disbelief. He hadn't expected him to escape, that much he could tell. The power granted to him by the Soul made him think he was invulnerable.
He was wrong.
"Do you so wish for death...Manus?"
"Do you so wish for death, Commoner?" Raziel raised up the crystallized sword and sliced aside the crystal projectile that Mott had thrown at him, "Aha, so you've been to my vault! Tell me, did you see the power it held within? With the sacrifice of a few, we could benefit the many!"
He stayed silent, raising the sword above his head and aiming to cleave him in half. Mott smirked and waved his wand, summoning a surge of water from a nearby vase, "You fool, were you so quick to assume that I was completely reliant on my crystals? I am a Triangle Class water Mage and my runic name is 'The Surge'. Tell me, how do you plan to survive this?"
The water hardened and split into multiple pieces, each of them turning into spikes as sharp as any dagger. Raziel raised his right hand curved it in an arc in front of him, melting the water as it made contact with the Flame on his palm. Mott stepped back slightly and widened his eyes in shock: He was casting magic. More than that, he was casting wandless magic.
Things were becoming interesting.
Manus jumped back as Seath threw another barrage of crystallized breath at him. He bit back a cry of pain as he pulled a stray crystal that had managed to lodge itself into his arm; the dragon was strong, but he wasn't very agile. He needed to find a way to outmaneuver him. All he needed was one clear shot and he would be able to end this fight.
"...There," Seeing no other choice, he ducked behind the large bookshelf and used it as cover. Seath growled and attempted to circle around him: He couldn't afford to lose those books, not now. Not when he finally had the power that would allow him to accomplish what he had been deprived of for so long. All he had to do was kill that pest and he would be free to do his experiments in the peace.
Behind the shelves, Manus waited silently. The lizard was going to die.
Raziel dodged another wave of crystals coming for him and punched the Imperial Messenger in the jaw, "You'll pay for that!" The noble growled in pain before summoning a tidal wave that swept the Undeead into the opposite room. He grabbed at his jaw and twitched as he felt the blood going down his lips: His jaw felt like it would break at any second.
"Partner, get up," Closing his eyes and trying to ignore the pain, Raziel forced himself to stand. His body had already been riddled with stray crystals and he could feel their cursed magic taking hold. He needed to finish this quickly.
He would kill him, no matter what.
He would kill him, no matter what.
Louise was dreaming, she was sure of it. The dead bodies, the sounds of fighting; she was obviously having a nightmare. Just stress from the upcoming mission to Albion, that's all it was. The bodies of the dead guards, the servants crying in the corners and covering their eyes and ears...that was all in her mind. She was simply had a vivid imagine, that was all.
"Valliere!" Kirche shook her shoulder roughly before pulling her along, "Valliere, stop daydreaming and wake up! Do you have any idea what's happening?"
No, she wasn't dreaming. She blinked and looked down at the scene around her: Bodies, most likely the guards given their armor, bleeding profusely and torn apart. He could see their arms and legs separated from their body; cut clean off life a piece of meat. He saw others, their bodies burnt to death and- Oh Brimir, she could smell the burning flesh.
Numbly she walked forward, ignoring Kirche's yelling. Past the gate she could see more bodies, all in the same condition as the previous. She recognized the burns on their bodies: Stronger than the average Fire Mage's fire. Her mind drifted, remembering her Familiar's explanation on the Pyromancy that he claimed to master. She shook her head...all these dead bodies, and she knew the cause.
She could hear the sounds of fighting coming from the room ahead, "Hey, Valliere!" Kirche.
"...How...how are you so calm...?" She managed to speak out. Despite the large amount of bodies they had passed, Kirche barely gave them a cursory glance and didn't seem all that bothered by their presence, "All the...all the..." Slaughter? Murder? Massacre? She couldn't decide which would be the best to describe it. What made it infinitely worse was the fact that she knew who did it, and she had to be responsible.
"Snap out of it," A slap reached her cheeks, "Calm down and take a breath, alright? I know it looks bad, but losing yourself right now doesn't help things," Kirche reprimanded her, "Listen, the servants are mumbling something about people in the basement, so I'm going to check it out. You either stay here or you come with me, but stay calm and don't go crazy. Something tells me we're going to have to explain ourselves."
"...You didn't answer my question..." Louise remarked.
"..I'm used to it, I guess," She shrugged, "When you come from a family that prides itself on war and conquest, you tend to see things most kids don't really see growing up. As bad as this is, I've seen worse," Worse!? Louise already felt like fainting or vomiting - Whichever came first, "Now stay calm while I check out the basement. "
She watched as Kirche retreated to the lower floor. She was alone now, and she could still hear the sounds of fighting from the next room. Taking a deep breath and mentally chiding herself that she was going to regret this, she opened the door.
Raziel placed his right hand on the ground and placed as much remaining power into the flame. Flames sprouted from the ground, rising up in large pillars. He watched as the surrounding area burned, although he had a harder time focusing on where exactly Mott was. Damn it, he was already beginning to feel faint: The Pyromancy Flame wasn't meant to be used for this long-
"Raziel!"
That was his master's voice. Raziel instinctively turned towards her, "Master, what are-" He screamed, placing his free hand above his right eye as pain enveloped him. Mott smirked, his bloody lips curling into a grin as his opponent was forced into his knees by the crystal being imbedded into his eye. A true noble did whatever it took to win, even if it meant being seen as dishonorable.
"Raziel!" Louise raised her wand and...stopped. What was she supposed to do? Her Familiar was attacking the Imperial Messenger - By proxy, that meant that she attacking the Imperial Messenger of the palace. She felt dizzy: This meant treason, being executed or exiled, or possibly even disowning from her family name altogether.
"Master?" Mott looked at the small pinkette curiously, "You, is this your servant?" Louise didn't reply, "I heard what he called you! Is there any explanation as to why you sent your servant to attack the estate of the Imperial Messenger!?" Attack? Louise shook her head. Impossible, she wanted to deny it and here it was being confirmed in front of her: Her Familiar had murdered all of the guards and traumatized all the remaining servants.
"Your reaction tells me that you didn't plan for this," Mott continued, "I shall listen to your explanation if you prove that you had nothing to do with this. Kill this disloyal servant of yours and prove that you didn't commit the heinous act of treason. A reasonable exchange, is it not? Getting rid of one traitor for the life and innocence of a noble."
Louise raised a shaking hand and pointed her wand at Raziel. He was still on the floor, trying to stay conscious as the crystal embedded in his right eye blinded him. He was right: Her Familiar had disobeyed her and committed an act of treason. She had given him no choice, she had forced him to act! She was a loyal noble, trusting of her country and devoted to their rulers. To attack Mott was to disregard all that.
As she began casting her fireball spell, she tried to convince herself that she was making the right choice. Raziel looked up from his agony and stared at his master: There was no anger, no feeling of betrayal. He looked down and pulled the crystal away from his eye painfully; the sharpened edge was good enough to be a weapon. Shame he never got to use it.
The spell was nearly finished. Her Familiar had betrayed her, betrayed the country she devoted herself to...and yet he had also saved her twice, placing his life at risk in order to save hers. Her hands shook as her aim became more and more unfocused. She'd known him for nearly a month now, and in all that time he had done nothing to indicate that he enjoyed fighting. Yes he had killed, but that was only to defend her. And even when they had to decide Fouquet's fate, he followed her orders albeit begrudgingly.
There had to be a reason for this...all this killing.
"Fireball!"
She decided to trust her Familiar.
Raziel's remaining eye widened as his master's focus shifted from him to the Count. Mott's smug grin transformed into a howl of pain as the explosion hit him in the front and forced him on his back. Not wasting the chance, Raziel forced himself to stand and stabbed the crystal right into the Count's head. Over and over, again and again, he didn't stop even as the older male stopped struggling and the 'souls' entered his body.
Manus jumped onto the dragon's elongated snout as he reached the top of the bookcase. Seath roared, shaking his head to and fro in an attempt to dislodge the invader. The Revenant tightened his grip on the dragon's albino skin and began tearing at the skin covering its nose. He roared, raising both hands in an attempt to grab at him.
He released his grip on the snout and felt himself rise briefly before he grabbed at his elongated horns. Seath's crystal white eyes focused on him before they widened in realization. Manus 'smiled' before impaling his clawed hand against the lizard's eyes.
Louise did her best to look away as the sounds of the flesh being caved in reached her ears. Brimir above, what had she done? She had placed her faith on her Familiar above even the noble who could have saved her from the punishment she would've received.
It was only after the twentieth stab that Raziel finally found it in him to stop. He dropped the crystal and collapsed on his back. free hand still holding into his right eye. Unlike his other injuries, the eye wound would likely take a while to heal; as did all injuries that came from Seath's foul crystal magics. Dully, he looked at his master - She was sitting on the ground, muttering to herself about how she was doomed. He didn't understand why.
"Valliere, where are you?" Kirche popped her head in and coughed as she saw the unlikely pair. She wasn't even going to comment on the corpse, "Listen, I know you think you're doomed now, but you need to see this. I think we can reasonably claim that you and Razi were justified"
Kirche waited for a moment before making her way back to the other room to wait for the two of them. Raziel bit his lip as the pain slowed down into a dull throb, "Master-"
"Don't talk to me," She stood up from her place on the ground and made her way to the next room. Raziel stared after her for just a moment before making his way to the opposite room. He needed to see if Siesta was alright.
Manus suppressed a laugh as he saw the dragon flail around blindly, trying to catch him. He had thought about killing him, but letting him live with the knowledge that he would never be able to continue his experiments was more torturous than any death he could have given him. Death would have been a release from this torment now.
Looking at the dragon one last time, he grabbed the torch in the hallway before tossing it to the overturned pile of books. It wouldn't kill him, and it wasn't as if he needed the books now that he lost his sight.
Now he needed to escape.
Fouquet sighed, leaning against the confines of her small cell. She had been captured by those three brats - and that Familiar - and now she was awaiting execution. It was either that or exile, though she doubted that the latter was even an option. She'd embarrassed too many of the high nobility for them to let her get away with her life. Their so called 'Noble pride' wouldn't let them take it lying down.
They didn't even want to admit she was a woman. She snorted; while her arrest had been made public, the rumors and criers all called her to be a male thief. She was wrapped in thick robes that hid her figure and even the prison guards weren't told of her gender. The simple-minded pigs refused to believe that they had been outwitted by the fairer sex and now kept insisting that they had been bested by a strong and overpowering male thief. They figured they could at least keep their pride that way.
Footsteps in front of her cell - Two of them. Even without her wand, she was still more sensitive to the earth than the average Mage. She looked up and stared blankly at the two robed figures in front of her: One was small, so she could barely see them. The one next to them was larger, easily towering over the both of them. She raised an eyebrow curiously at the sight of the familiar Theatre mask.
"Are you here to kill me," She asked casually. They were likely sent here to assassinate her in case she decided to talk, "If you're going to do it, do it quickly. I'd rather we not try to make small talk."
She had accepted that death was inevitable ever since she got caught. Tiffania and the kids would struggle without her, but she was only human and knew that she couldn't go uncaught forever. She had hoped at least that she could send a final letter, but her interrogators had refused her even that. Now her little sister would never know what had happened to her.
"We have a job for you," That...was not what she expected, "Our...employer is willing to give you a second chance despite your failure. Accept and we escape now. Refuse and we kill you. The choice should be easy enough to make."
"It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice," She smiled wryly, "Fine then. If our mysterious benefactor is willing to give me a second chance, who am I to refuse? I accept your offer."
The masked figure nodded before pulling out the sword-wand from his side and destroying the lock with a gale of wind: A wind mage? That was slightly surprising, "Your destination is Albion. Your goal is to find the Founder's Music Box in Newcastle's vault and steal it. How you complete the task is up to you - Either by force or by deception. Either way, your success will be greatly rewarded."
"Another theft? Sounds simple enough," She commented blankly, "I assume your silent partner there's going to be my partner? Can't think of any other reason why he's there."
"She, actually," The masked figure smiled and lowered the shorter figure's hood. Fouquet's eyes widened slightly in recognition, "She has a vested interest in seeing that this mission succeeds as well. The two of you will have to cooperate if you want to succeed in this task quickly and efficiently. "
Fouquet walked forward and eyed the girl in front of him warily. After a couple of seconds, she extended her hand as a handshake. "So we're partners now, huh? I trust that there are no hard feelings about before? We have to put it behind us since we both need to succeed here. So...truce?"
Tabitha looked at the offered hand before accepting the gesture, "...Agreed.
"Raziel, is there something you're not telling me?" Siesta looked at her friend in suspicion as he turned away from her. She could've sworn that she saw the Count attack him with a spell, but when she woke up they were already in a cart heading to the academy joined by Ms. Zerbst and Ms. Valliere. Raziel had chosen not to say anything to her about the circumstances, but she could already figure out that something dire had happened.
A cart had been following behind her. She could see her old friends from the academy among the occupants, but she decided it best not to say anything to them till after they got back to the academy. They looked tired and many of them were injured.
"Why aren't you saying anything? I'm not going to judge you," He continued to stay silent. She frowned, "Alright, its not like I'm not gonna find out sooner or later. But, Raziel, answer me this: Is the Count still alive?"
"...No."
Siesta's frown deepened slightly as she sighed. While she felt no love lost for the Count - especially as she saw her friends sad states and his attack against Raziel - she hated to think that she had forced his hand, that he had killed all because of her. The Head Chef would no doubt welcome her and the others back, but they technically weren't maids of the academy since the 'negotiations' weren't strictly by the law.
She supposed that she would have to find out tomorrow what life would bring next.
But first, "Um, Raziel?" He looked back at her and she blushed slightly. She needed to do it, "Th-Thank you for saving me!"
Siesta placed her lips against his cheeks lightly before turning to run back to the kitchen. The Undead stood rotted to the spot at the sudden contact, brushing his fingers against where she had kissed him. Was that a kiss? He had expected a handshake or a clap on the back. That was...unexpected. He felt his face heat up. What was wrong with him? He shook his head and frowned. Now he was imagining things.
"...You're blushing," Louise walked past him and commented blankly, "I'm going back to the room."
He watched as she made her way to the tower's entrance. He placed both hands against his cheeks and rubbed it forcefully: She was wrong. Undead had no blood, so it logically followed that they couldn't blush. ...Damn it, his face still felt warm. Must be his pyromancy acting up or something. He'd used it in the fight a lot and now it was going crazy.
Groaning in frustration, he made his way to the clinic. Siesta had been kind enough to ignore it, but there was still a rather deep (and non-bleeding) impalement wound on his right eye. He needed something to cover it up before someone pointed it out. He clicked his tongue in annoyance: He had lost the use of his right eye. It would heal itself in a few days, but until then he had to make do with his right eye being unable to see.
The runes on his left hand had finally stopped glowing and feeding him unknown memories. He sighed. Unlife was still complicated even up to now.
This chapter was kinda annoying to write, but honestly I did my best to weasel out of writing fight scenes - What we got was atrocious enough as it is. Is it long enough? I felt like the two arcs were being dragged on for too long and I wanted to get to Albion already: More plot and less forced fighting.
Oh, and the game's kinda unclear: Do bonfires need Firekeepers or what? I mean, killing Anastacia/The Fair Lady/Darkmoon Knightess causes their bonfires to go out. However, you see dozens of other bonfires that have no firekeeper near them and yet they never go out. I'll just chalk it to 'Gameplay and Story segregation' since the Firekeeper!Bonfires are functionally the same with the exception of initially giving you five more flasks of estus, and even that can be easily copied by sacrificing one Humanity.
...Either that or the Firekeeper's souls are bound to the bonfire for eternity after they die, therefore keeping it functioning. Given how horrific Dark Souls world is, it wouldn't surprise me. Oh, and apparently Tiffania and Fouquet aren't related: They just call each other sisters due to their bond. They don't actually share a dad.
Last thing: Now I know some of you may be complaining about the fact that Louise hasn't done anything except get herself captured, but there's really nothing I can do about that: Before she gets void powers, she's essentially a damsel in distress since she can't fight. Hell, even AFTER she gets Void she doesn't do much of anything other than cast for five minutes while Saito defends her. Siesta can at least be excused easily by the fact that she's a non-magical muggle who rightly can't fight against trained guards or Mages. Any tips on how to change this?
Anyway, time to answer some reviews.
LD 1449 - Because he's level 10, that's why. He never actually leveled up in his entire time in Halk, so while he can deal out a lot of damage he's not as strong as he once was and can't tank without armor. I'm also beefing up spells in general: Chaos Pyromancy can melt stone Golems despite not being that strong in canon, the Manus catalyst grants anyone wielding it OP abyss magic and crystal sorcery damages Undead down to their very core. Also, despite getting one-shotted, he didn't actually die when Mott attacked him.
Demon of Fate - To be honest? I have no fucking idea what to replace it with. I mean, the damn thing gets forgotten about after Saito 'dies', so couldn't any dragon replace it? What made it most valuable was its firepower, and that can be replicated easily with how buffed I'm making the Pyromancies, Spells and Miracles.
BloodTrinity - Ah, I knew somebody would ask me that :p Don't worry, I got plans for Cattleya and her mysterious illness that never got elaborated on. Also, the journal thing is because Seath's BLIND. His Channelers are mentioned reading for him, which explains the size of the book. That and the scene would look comical if Raziel got tossed a book the size of a flatscreen TV.
Demons Anarchy - You really want him dead, huh? And no, the picture is not Raziel and Louise (its Lautrec and Anastacia) and neither is his name Manus. Raziel isn't actually a name, either, thinking on it.
Some guy - No thank you: I'm already swamped as it is. If you're that interested, write one yourself. That's what I did.
Baddamobs - After this chapter? Unlikely that they're even going to look at one another too long. Louise is established in canon to be - despite her homicidal tendencies - a pacifist and hates taking life. Raziel just murdered his way through the estate and even killed the Imperial Messenger. Louise isn't going to ignore this with a slap of a wrist. They're going to be passive-aggressive to each other for a bit.
The Nurgling - Thank you for the long review :D Anyway, to answer your main question: The NPC's embody the different arts: Logan becomes one of the Depraved (post-insanity), Chester is the Rogue, Reah's the good Cleric while Petrus is the bad Cleric etc etc. Raziel was made with the intention of being a blank slate: Notice that he's reactive rather than proactive. Siesta's nice and he's nice back, Louise is annoying so he tends to ignore her, Kirche is chatty and he tunes out. If Siesta was never nice to him, he probably wouldn't have gone out of his way to go to Mott's mansion even if he knew what he was doing. He dislikes playing hero and sees little point when Mott could have someone easily replace him.
Although I recommend also reading 'Familiar Souls'. Its what I read first before I started writing this crossover.