End of the Albion arc:) After this we get to have one or two more lighthearted chapters before we go back to the Albion war and the siege of Tarbes. Until then hopefully everyone enjoys this chapter and keeps reading.
Louise woke up with a chill. Rubbing her tired eyes, she looked around the dark room and frowned as she realized that she was alone, "Jean-Jaques?" She called out weakly, suppressing a yawn that threatened to leave her mouth. Brimir damn it all she was tired, but she couldn't allow herself to be too complacent here. The battle would start soon and, while Prince Wales assured her that the Reconquista forces wouldn't shoot down fleeing refugee ships (They apparently had at least a little bit of honor), she still felt wary all the same.
Her mind drifted back to her best friend. In just a couple of hours she would lose her lover and likely be forced to suppress her anger and make treaties with Reconquista, though she doubted the upstarts would keep their word on it. They weren't nobles - Just commoners killing and taking from those who deserved the power and influence they had. The royal family deserved better than this, to die like pigs while those who falsely claimed to follow Brimir's will died in vain. Even she could see that their deaths would be meaningless in the end, but as nobles it was better to die with honor than live with regret.
The pinkette shook her head and got off the bed, shivering even more when her bare feet touched the stone floor of the room. Albion was far colder in general compared to Tristain and even when the room was mostly closed the high winds and lower temperature meant that the average person could catch a cold without the proper attire. Clumsily she fumbled through the dark and looked for her socks and shoes before putting them on in a haste. It would've been better for her to walk around and go to her Familiar's and Guiche's room later to wake them up if they hadn't woken up from their slumber.
'Then again,' She thought as she picked up her pack, 'I doubt Raziel's sleeping,' Her Familiar made it rather clear to her that while he could mimic sleep to a degree that didn't mean that he was actually asleep; it was more like he shut down until enough time passed or until something forced him to jolt back to life. She also remembered somewhat in fear that his chest didn't move whenever he slept and that he was as still as a statue. He almost looked like a corpse...well, he was one, but he looked remarkably human and animated all things considered.
She wrapped a cloak from the chair around herself and pushed open the door, peeking her head out to the hallway to see if she could find anyone. She could still hear the sounds of vague cheers and yells, though that was likely because none of the Royalists wanted to sleep and end up having their throats slit while they rested. Although, much as she didn't like to think about it, she doubted that a lot of them would be able to pick up a sword given how drunk they were earlier in the night. Many of them likely wanted to die happy and drunk than sober and desperate.
Her hand drifted over to her wand and then to the dagger Jean-Jaques had given her. It was an odd gift to be true, but she still felt flattered in a way. While most men gave flowers and jewelry to their fiancees and enjoyed gifts of those kinds, they didn't feel very...unique, was that the right word for it? The dagger might end up becoming ceremonial since she certainly couldn't see herself using it, but it was still a unique gift that she could keep with her to old age. Besides, she had enough flowers and jewelry from picking them from gardens or visits to town when she was younger. They were nice, but she didn't really need any more.
She looked around the hallway she was in and blinked as she realized she was close to the small chapel the castle held. She stared at the door to it before she shrugged; she had nothing else to do and praying for the souls sacrificing themselves sounded like a better idea than wandering around in a daze looking for her fiancee or anything else to occupy her.
The door creaked noisily as she opened it, a small reminder of just how old Newcastle was despite its name. As soon as she entered she felt a small amount of heat drift over to her. Candles, she noticed immediately, which meant someone was here. She narrowed her eyes and focused on the figure kneeling at in front of the altar. She recognized him almost immediately.
"Prince Wales," She called out. The kneeling prince raised his head at the sound of her voice and turned towards her, a smile on his face just like always. She returned the gesture, but she didn't miss the tired look he briefly exhibited and the small, dark circles underneath his eyes. The Prince was exhausted and it was beginning to show. The knowledge of his impending death was taking a toll on him and it was beginning to show.
"Miss. Valliere, good evening...or is it morning now?" He laughed, though it was noticeably strained, "My apologies for not noticing you before," He gestured to the altar in front of him, "I was simply praying for fortune at the battle tomorrow. I know we will not survive, but I'll do my best to ensure that we will die with honor and pride rather than with a whimper and cry as they no doubt wish we do."
"Of..Of course..." She coughed awkwardly and stepped closer to him, racking her mind and searching for anything to say. Her last conversation with the prince was abrupt and he had shot down any questions she might have had on the letters contents. He claimed that the princess didn't make even write a single word saying that she wanted him to escape the attack by Reconquista, but couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or not. She wasn't exactly the best at telling liars unless they were rather obvious like Guiche and his 'genuine' compliments.
"Have you come here to pray as well?" Wales asked. Louise nodded numbly, "Then I suppose we have the same purpose here," His frowned briefly before retuning to the constant smile he held, "The attack will take place not too long from now and I must admit that I find myself nervous," He gave a strained laugh, "I find little comfort in alcohol and I have no desire to end my life before the battle even comes to us because it might seem easier."
"I understand," She really didn't. Honor and dying with pride made sense in legends and fairy tales, but now that she saw what was about to happen...she wasn't so sure anymore. These people weren't dying with pride; they were drinking themselves to stupors in the hope that they would be drunk enough that they could forget the fear they felt at their impending death.
"You do? Then that makes one of us, I suppose," He replied lightly before sitting on one of the pews. Louise joined him after a moment of hesitation, "I can tell by your face that you want to tell me something, Miss. Valliere," She nearly jumped at the sudden accusation, "Please calm yourself and tell me what it is that you wish to get off your chest. You will not have a chance to do so once the battle starts."
"It's just..." She gulped nervously and tried to keep her breathing level. She needed to say it, "I-I know we've already talked about this, but couldn't you come back with us? If what you say is true then you and your father are the last of the Tudor line. When Reconquista is beaten there needs to be a member of the royal family to take the throne when everything is over. Surely you must see this."
"Hahaha, you truly believe that?" There was genuine amusement in his words despite his answer, "Miss. Valliere, while I find your faith in the Tudors to be heartening, please trust me when I say that the people of Albion will not care who ends up the victor in this war we have," He clasped his hands together and sighed, "The citizens are torn between Reconquista and the royal family only because they are unsure or uncaring of how it will affect them. If Cromwell offers them more than what the ruling family has, and I'm sure he already has, then the Tudors will be nothing but a footnote in Albion's history."
"But-But he's just a power hungry priest!" Louise argued back hotly, "He's not a Noble or a Mage! He claims to follow Brimir but he's fighting against the very people that by holy right should rule and protect the commoners. He's just giving out false promises and platitudes to try and turn the populace to his side. He'll be tyrant once he takes Albion's throne, I know he will!"
"Whether they're genuine or not, they give the people hope for change: Something neither I or my family have been able to provide," Wales replied solemnly, "The royal family is stagnant, Miss. Valliere, and I'm not afraid to admit that. My father is old and barely able to stand and my two uncles - Henrietta's father and the Archduke - are dead, one by the hand of someone close and dear to him and for a reason that may or may not even be true."
"But you can still change that...can't you?" Wales could hear the desperation in her voice. She was a good child, he thought sadly, but she was naive to how the commoners truly viewed the nobility. She grew up with stories hearing about how the Nobles fought with honor and protected the people below them, earning the love of the populace and being granted Brimir's blessing.
She didn't know about the resentment that stewed in the people and how many wished the nobles would just disappear or how corrupt some of the nobility could get. She thought the Count was a rare case, a bad seed that the other more noble aristocrats would stop if only they knew of his actions. The truth of the matter was, of course, that many wouldn't even care so long as he kept his experiments behind closed doors and didn't threaten their own power.
"I'm afraid it's too late for that," He looked down at the floor, his eyes becoming unfocused, "My brothers are all dead and my father is nearing death's door. Even if I survive tonight my family will be gone and Henrietta will be married to Germania's Emperor, meaning our relationship will be nothing but a thorn to Tristain's safety. I'll accomplish more with my death than with my continued life. All of us here in the castle think so, at least."
"But the Princess loves you!" Louise yelled out before shutting her mouth. It wasn't her place to say anything, "I-I mean, I know they made their choice to die, but surely you can see that escaping to fight another day is understandable in this situation. With Tristain's and Germania's armies joined Reconquista stands no chance against us. You could escape now and come back with aid."
"The treaty will not matter if either I or my father escape today's attack," Wales reminded, "I have no doubt that Reconquista will try to make a treaty with Tristain, but I am unsure whether they will follow it or if they believe they're strong enough that they can fight against Tristain and Germania's forces. What I am aware of is that if Cromwell doesn't see all of the Tudors dead by the end of this day then he will attack Tristain as soon as next weeks time. Germania will not have time to mobilize their forces and likely abandon Tristain to its fate."
"So there's nothing I can say to convince you to leave with us?" She closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, taking strained breaths. She felt helpless, like when she was a kid and she tried to explain to her parents and Eleanor why all of her spells ended up failing. No matter what she said or did she could never convince them that it wasn't her fault or that she did the spell perfectly. Even when he was nearing death's embrace she couldn't convince him to run away and live, for the princess if no one else.
"I'm afraid my mind is made up, Miss. Valliere," He reached a hand out and ruffled the top of her head gently, "I appreciate your concern for me and everyone here. I hope you take care of Henrietta when I pass from this world," He gave a sad smile, "Her burdens will be great in the coming days and like her mother before her she'll be forced to give up more of herself as she grows older. I know I have no right to ask this of you, but please help her and ensure that she remains who she is now and not as a prize to Emperor Albrect III."
"I'll never let that happen!" Louise replied, "Prince Wales...I'm not sure if I agree with your choice, but it's not my place to impose my own choice to you and as a noble I must respect your decision," She let out a held breath, "Princess Henrietta is my closest friend and I'd do anything to ensure that she remains happy till the day she passes from this world. You have my word on that."
"Then that's all I can ask for," Wales closed his eyes briefly before he stood up, "Shall we pray together then? We have precious few time before the last ship leaves and Reconquista attacks us," He gestured to the large window in front of the altar, "We even have Reconquista's flagship watching over us as we pray for last rites, almost akin to a judge waiting to sentence all the prisoners."
Louise looked to where he pointed and suddenly felt small as she caught sight of the giant warship. This was the royal family's pride and now they were being bombarded and harassed by the very same ship; a final insult to the remaining royalists. She felt the shaking of the castle all night, just potshots Wales and the others had assured her, but seeing the source of it still caused her no small amount of fear. Idly she noted that the ship was chained or anchored to one of the landmasses: The chain would likely come up again when it would begin its attack.
"They placed it right in front of us as a final reminder of how their victory is guaranteed," Wales said next to her, "When that anchor lifts it'll signify the beginning of the attack and the end of all the Royalists," He walked closer to the altar, "I've often heard of Father Brimir's miracles, of how his magic was so powerful that even the Elves could only cower in fear. It is childish, but a part of me is still hoping for a miracle."
Louise remained silent and stood beside the Prince, her eyes following his gaze and staring at the ship chained ominously not too far from Newcastle's walls. Her hand drifted over to her wand before she snapped it away. What was she going to do? Make a smoky firework? She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. She couldn't do anything for the Prince or the Princess except act as a messenger and be the bearer of bad news.
"...Hold on," Wales' worried call reached her ears. She snapped her head up and saw what made him panic - The chain was rising and the flagship was turning to its side, "The chain has risen and and they're turning their broadside cannons to us, which means- Miss. Valliere! Get down! They're going to-"
A deafening boom interrupted him before he could finish.
"We're being attacked!"
Raziel woke up to the sound of Guiche yelling. Opening his eyes quickly, he jumped off the bed only to stumble into the ground as the castle shook with a loud boom, "What is happening?" He asked aloud. Guiche looked like he was about to yell something before an explosion rang, drowning out his words with a large explosion and causing the castle to shake again as if a maelstrom had hit it at full blast.
The young noble screamed in a panic and placed his head in his hands, mumbling what was either a prayer or curses. Trying to stabilize himself, Raziel stood up and leaned against the wall, making his way to the table where that held his equipment, "We're all going to die!" He heard Guiche yell behind. He rolled his eye and grabbed the swords and bow before running over to where Guiche was hyperventilating.
"What is happening?" He asked again.
"Reconquista's attacking!" Guiche grabbed his shoulders and shook him hysterically, "They said that they would wait till the last boat left and they're already attacking! Did we oversleep and miss the last refugee boat!?"
"The sun has not risen fully yet," He pointed out the dark sky, easily visible from the room's lone window, that was just being barely greeted by the sun's golden glow, "Why are you worried? They have been attacking all night." Raziel pointed out, although he made sure to grab two cloaks and Guiche's discarded rapier from the table before shoving them at Guiche. Derf was already clicking awake and asking about what was going on.
"Those were just potshots from the smaller cannons!" He accepted the cloak and rapier in a panic and placed them on their respective places hastily, "The shots are too consistent and too strong. They're trying to break through the walls!" He ran to his shoes and put them on in a haste, trying and failing to keep his breathing level despite the panic he felt.
"Sounds like it's war already. Not that I'm surprised," Derf commented with a mix of annoyance and amusement, "Partner, I suggest you and blondy getting out of here before things get too chaotic. The people here called it a last stand for a reason and unless you two want to join them I suggest you leave now and find a boat or something. Or just jump out the window and hope for the best."
"No jumping- Flames," Raziel cursed as another bombardment struck against the castles walls and the sound of something collapsing echoed nearby. The castle was taking a rather large beating and he doubted it would last much longer, "We need to find Master and the Viscount. Do you know where they are?" They would either have to make their way to the prince's boat or have Wardes fly them down again.
"Beats me. I was with you all night, remember?" Derf reminded him.
"U-Um...the Viscount said something about inspecting the castle for defenses or escape routes that the Royalists may have forgotten to secure," He grabbed his hair in his hands, "And...And Valliere should still be in her room, which is just down the hallway and to the right from here. She should still be there," He nodded rapidly. He wanted out of here right now. He had too much to live for.
"Let us go to Master's room-"
"Death to the royal family!" The door to the room burst open and, before Guiche could even scream in response, a lightly armored figure charged into the room, swinging a sword chaotically. On instinct Raziel stepped to the side to avoid the clumsy attacks before bringing Derflinger down against the figure's neck. The sounds of flesh being cut clean through and a dull, meaty thud signaled the end of the quick fight.
"Is...Is he dead?" Guiche's face looked green and he looked to be about ready to vomit. Raziel followed his gaze and saw him staring at the head rolling on the floor, its stump of a neck bleeding profusely and the face stuck on a dull grin. The fool died before even realizing his death, "Oh...Oh...Oh Brimrir, this-this is is too much!" Guiche leaned against the wall and slid down it, his breath coming out in strained gasps as he covered his eyes, hoping against hope that this was all a nightmare from too much drinking and that he would wake up soon.
"You already saw this before," Raziel pointed to the severed head lying on the floor, "When we were escaping the inn we-"
"I know! I saw you cut that person's head off!" Guiche interrupted with a hysteric yell, "It's just that we were escaping so fast that I-I didn't really get to see what happened to him, alright! It's just...you killed him so quickly and-and...I don't know, I've never really seen a person kill somebody else like that. The Viscount at least made it clean and left the body intact. You just...you just lopped his head off like it's no big deal!"
"And you nearly killed me on our first meeting," He reminded him in annoyance, "Death is death, regardless of how it happens," He walked over to Guiche and pulled him up roughly, "We need to leave this place before we join the people here in their final battle. If you wish to stay then by all means. I am going to Master's room to find her and the Viscount and then we will use the boat Prince Wales showed me."
"Not even a little bit of sympathy, huh?" Guiche joked, although it was noticeably strained and shallow, "Al-Alright, let's get out of here before we get killed. We still have to give the letter back to the Princess and Valliere's the one who has it."
Raziel pursed his lips together and nodded. He turned to walk to the room's entrance before a strong pain enveloped his head, "Hey, what's wrong?" Guiche's question rang in his ears, making his headache worse. He closed his eyes and opened them as images began to flood his head. To the left he could see Guiche panicking and asking him what was wrong, but to the right he could see-
"Ah, the Familiar bond's acting up again!" Derflinger called out, "Must mean pinky's in trouble. Can you tell where she is?"
"I...I cannot, all I can see are rocks and dust..." He shook his head and his right eye turned back to its normal yellow color, "We must find her before we leave this place." He didn't know where she was, but if the bond was acting up then that must have meant she was in danger. He remembered the bandit attack at the school and how his master had her face cut by the sharp dagger. If this was anything similar then they had to find her now.
"O-Okay, I'll be right behind you..."
Pain engulfed Louise's entire being as consciousness returned to her. Taking shallow breaths, she forced her eyes to open and met with the sight of dust and rocks, followed quickly by shattered glass and various other destroyed decorations. She took another breath and winced as she felt a sharp pain engulf her chest. Either something was broken or she was bleeding on the inside.
It didn't take long for her to remember what exactly happened: The warship had attacked the castle and one of the cannonballs impacted much too close for comfort near their place in the church. She remembered the prince screaming at her and dragging her around just before she was perforated by the shattered glass raining down on them.
And then the wall collapsed on top of them.
Forcing herself to bear the pain, she tried to stand before she felt a weight bearing on her back. Craning her head around, she caught sight of what exactly was pinning her down - A rather large chunk of wall was draped across her back, almost like a protective blanket, preventing her from being able to stand or do much of anything. She grit her teeth and attempted to push herself up again, netting a similar result as before.
"What is it you're doing here, Viscount?"
That was the prince's voice. Doing her best to focus, she managed to make out the prince's familiar figure through the dust and smoke. She released a breath as his words reached her ears: Jean-Jaques was here. He must have come to try and protect the prince or...or he caught sight of her coming here and came to fetch her. There was no other reason for him to come here.
Forcing himself to keep upright, Wales narrowed his eyes and wiped away the blood that dripped down his cheek. He had a few scrapes and tears from the blast, but Louise had actually pushed him before the wall fell on top of both of them. He still hadn't found her yet - the chapel's interior was rather hectic and it was hard to see with all the dust - but he had to make sure that she escaped before she was dragged into this futile stand.
"I could ask the same of you, my Prince. The castle is in turmoil now and you're here alone," Wardes voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. Wales found his hand drifting for his concealed wand. Something was wrong, "Reconquista's attack came early and the royalists are upstairs, fighting and dying to the last man."
"I am aware of the current state of affairs, yes," Wales stepped back and felt his paranoia spike when the Viscount not-so-subtly stepped forward in response. He wanted something, "I can already hear the screams of Reconquista's soldiers and the sounds of swords clashing. There is one thing that intrigues me, however..."
"And what would that be?" Wardes asked, eyebrows raised.
"They came here too fast. We sealed all the tunnels in order to ensure that they would have to come through the main gates, filtering them in slowly to ensure they would have a difficult time taking the castle. They've overwhelmed the castle too easily and too quickly," Wales' eyes narrowed at the older male, "You were gone all night checking up on the tunnels. It occurs to me now that I hadn't asked you if you found anything."
"The tunnels locations were scarcely defended. As soon as Reconquista knew their locations it was easy enough to bypass the meager sentries without alerting the rest of the castle," He didn't answer Wales' silent question, "Especially since everyone was too busy drinking and laughing to pay attention," Another boom echoed all over the castle, although neither paid attention to it, "Killing the guards and hiding their bodies was easy. No one expected an agent of Tristain to be the dagger at their back."
The prince's breath caught in his throat as realization dawned on him. The Viscount was a traitor. His mind formed many thoughts at once: Despair, anger at being betrayed and the crushing acceptance on what was about to come. There was only one reason for the Viscount to come to him in the middle of Reconquista's attack - He had planned to kill him for his new masters.
Louise wasn't doing much better than the prince. This was...this was wrong! Jean-Jaques was the leader of the Griffon Knights and a personal student of her mother! He fought and clawed his way to his position, so why would he betray Tristain now!? No...no, there had to be some other explanation for this. She couldn't think of any right now, but there had to have been one!
"You're here to kill me then, aren't you?" The prince asked, only to be met with silent confirmation. His mind drifted back to Louise before he stopped. If the Viscount knew she was here then there was no guarantee she wouldn't be killed as well to keep his secret. He would die here now, that was an inevitability, but she could make her way out of here and inform Ann on what happened.
He had to make sure she wasn't found. He gulped, noting blankly that he could taste blood going down his throat. He didn't know where Louise was and acting like there was somebody else here would likely doom her. He had to trust her to keep quiet and manage to escape after life finally left him. She could then meet up with the others and play the fool till they reached Tristain and she could expose the Viscount.
"You're not planning to fight me?" Wardes asked, his hand already reaching for his rapier-wand.
"I planned to die during the battle, so I see little point," The prince saw his lips twitch into a small smile before disappearing, "Just make it quick then if possible," He walked towards him before turning around and facing his back, "I'd rather die in peace than in pain."
"As you wish." He raised the sword behind the prince and ran the sword through him.
"Hold them back!" Fouquet weaved her wand to and fro after the command, concentrating all her willpower into manipulating the castle's walls.
With a small nod, Tabitha raised her staff and chanted a quick spell, "Windy icicle," She breathed out softly. Spikes made out of ice materialized in the air before she sent them against their attackers.
"Look out!" Daphne yelled out. Amethyst dodged the cold spikes aimed at her before nearly stumbling onto the ground as another burst of cannon-fire battered against the castle's walls. Capitalizing on her confusion, Tabitha fired off another wave of projectiles, "Ach!" She screamed as one of the cold shards pierced her thigh. It didn't hurt much, but she could already feel the cold trying to freeze her flesh.
Beside her, Daphne ran towards the small bluenette before she was forced to dodge back as a wall of earth and stone nearly collapsed on top of her. Daphne hissed as bare traces of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the wall. The sun was barely over the horizon so the light wouldn't kill them, but it still stung all the same. Their powers were also weakened in sunlight, which made fighting all the more harder.
"Sister!" Amethyst pulled the spike from her thigh and ran towards her sibling, "Are you all right?"
"I...I'm fine," She ignored the burning feeling that engulfed her body and jumped back into the shade. "Come, we must clear this rubble if we're to have any hope of catching them," She hi
"Come on!" Fouquet grabbed Tabitha's hand roughly and pulled her towards the passage's entrance, collapsing as much of the tunnel she could behind her. She couldn't believe their misfortune - The two actually managed to find her and, as much as she couldn't believe it, she'd found out rather quickly that their pursuers were vampires given that they were able to catch up to them despite her temporary partner's dragon.
Fortunately, the sun was coming up and the passage was near the castle's edge, meaning that collapsing the walls would lead to sunlight reaching the cramped passage. She wasn't a fool: There was no chance of them being able to take even one of them on in a straight fight, but time and the elements were on her side. So long as they managed to get the music box then they were free.
A crash and a boom from behind her quickly reminded her that just because they had the advantage didn't mean things would be easy.
"Die, royalist scum!" Raziel parried the strike of the clumsy soldier before he pierced his stomach with Derflinger's rusted blade and dragged it across in a horizontal line. That was...how many times had they done this already? He'd lost count after a while. All around him he could hear the sounds of swords clashing and the death cries of men and women as they fell. That explained why he only fought the soldiers in groups of one to three.
Although he suspected there might have been a different reason why he faced little difficulty. The soldiers were unarmored and barely armed, wielding crude blades or daggers with no strategy beyond attacking anyone who they didn't recognize or didn't wear their uniform. Likely recruits sent in first to soften the majority of the fighters before the actual knights came. A disturbingly similar strategy used by some kings when trying to find ways to bypass Sen's fortress.
"Is...is he gone?" Guiche asked, opening his eyes hesitantly before nearly vomiting at the sight of the portly attacker with his cut open stomach laying on the floor. For whatever reason his companion killed messily, always with one part mangled or their opponent's insides spilling out onto the floor in a sloppy mess. Couldn't he at least kill a little cleanly? He'd seen enough stomachs and intestines to last him a lifetime.
That wasn't even getting to the severed heads, arms and, at one point, a manhood that had been pierced through over three times, with each stab causing the receiver to squeal in a voice higher than the last. Reconquista was the enemy here, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for them seeing how painfully they died. He'd nearly received the same fate the day after the Familiar summoning.
"Yes," Raziel wiped Derflinger's blade on the wall and put him back into his sheath. He knelt down and pulled the soldier's dull dagger from his hands before offering it to Guiche, "You need a weapon to defend yourself. It is likely that that there will be more soldiers near the passageway to the boat and we must also find master before we leave."
"N-No thanks," Guiche coughed. He could still smell the blood on the blade, "I-I have my rapier here," He patted the pristine blade nervously, "So if I have to get into a fight then I'll be alright...you're not going to let them get to me, right?"
"We shall see," The noble gulped nervously at the ambiguous answer, "Come, we must escape from this place before-"
"H-Hey, look at that!" Guiche interrupted, pointing outside the hallway's window. Raziel's eyes followed to where he was pointing and he caught sight of another ship, different from the large one he had seen on the way here. Another warship - They were really trying to make sure everyone inside was had no escape. The smaller vessel turned to its broadside and he saw its cannons jut out.
Aiming right for them.
"...Flames..."
The loud boom of cannon-fire engulfed them.
"No!"
Wardes' eyes widened as he heard the familiar voice. No, it couldn't be. He pulled the sword from the prince's body and turned to the source of the voice. It was impossible: He had left Louise in her room and he had seen no one else when he entered the room. There was no chance of her being here, especially not when his plan was so close to fruition.
When she saw the prince's body fall to the ground, something in her snapped. She clawed forward, pushing the debris off her and ignoring the pain as she forced herself to stand. Her fiance was a traitor, the prince was dead and she was likely to die here, but she didn't want to lay down and die. There was no reason guiding her actions, only pure instinct and emotion.
As she managed to stand, she finally realized she had no idea what she was going to do. Attempt to kill Jean-Jaques? She was a talentless Mage while he was a renowned knight. Save the prince, maybe? But even if she managed to keep him alive she doubted she could carry him to any of the boats around here without attracting the attention of the soldiers already invading.
Her mind rattled with questions. She needed...she needed to talk with Jean-Jaques, to find answers from him. Was he truly a traitor to Tristain? There had to be a reason for this, for this madness. She knew him. She thought she knew him. He wouldn't do something like this. There was no gain to be had for betraying his country and losing his honor like this.
"Louise...what are you doing here?" Surprise colored his tone. It was to be expected: He could hardly expect to find his fiancee covered in blood and dust in the same room as he had performed his traitorous action.
No...there was no reason for this. He was a traitor, a liar and a murderer. Her blank eyes stared at the prince's bloody body. With a faint twinge of hope she could see that he was barely breathing. She was wrong: There was much he could have gained for doing this - Money, a larger position, fame and...the possibilities were endless.
He had betrayed her country.
He had betrayed the princess.
He had betrayed her
"...Why..." Her voice came out as a whisper.
"Louise..."
"Why did you do that!?" With an enraged cry Louise pounded her fists against Wardes chest, punching ineffectively at the knight, "I trusted you! You said we would go back to Tristain together! You said we would go to the festival to celebrate the princess' wedding! So why..." Tears spilled from her eyes. She didn't know what else to do right now. She hated him, she hated that he had managed to trick her, she hated herself for falling for his tricks.
"I didn't lie to you," He pulled her into a hug, same as the many times he had done so on their way here, "Louise...I want you to trust me. Trust that I'm not a traitor and trust that I still love you. This had to be done and the prince's death was inevitable. There was no other way." The way he spoke was familiar; it was the same way he had spoken to her when she was just a child. She believed him then when he claimed that he loved her.
She wouldn't believe him this time.
"Liar..." Wardes screamed as Louise stabbed the small dagger into his leg and twisted it painfully. He pushed her away and went to grab for his wand before she yelled out again.
"Fireball!" A deafening boom eclipsed the small room and Wardes found himself losing consciousness as he was flung back against the wall mercilessly, "Fireball!" She yelled again, pointing her wand at where she had seen Wardes fall. "Fireball!" She cast again and again until she felt her willpower drain from the effort. She fell on all fours and panted as she cast the final blast.
Silence engulfed the room and everything stood to a still. She could still hear the sounds of fighting and screaming, but her mind ignored it. Numbly she stood up and made her way to her fallen pack. The prince was still alive and...and she still had a chance to undo her fiance...no, that traitor's mistakes. She would save Prince Wales even if it cost her life to do so.
"No..." She closed her eyes and yelled in frustration as she saw the contents inside. While everything could be replaced easily enough, the two bottles of medicine she's bought were very much needed right now. She pulled out both bottles quickly and flinched when the one on her right cracked open and spilled its contents onto the ground. She only had one left.
"Hold on, please hold on!" She ran back to Wales, ignoring the jolts of pain that shot up her leg with every step. "Prince Wales!" She turned him around and bit her lip - He was barely breathing. She uncorked the bottle and forced the liquid down his mouth clumsily, some of the medicine missing his mouth entirely and falling down onto his cheeks instead. Brimir above her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
As the last of the liquid left the bottle, Louise began to lose hope. She placed her hand on his chest, her fingers immediately being coated by the crimson blood. Whether by chance or by intention Wardes had missed his heart, but it was of little comfort to Louise since it meant that the prince would die slowly from blood loss rather than quickly and painlessly.
"I'm sorry..." More tears fell. She didn't know who she was apologizing to - The princess for being unable to do anything? The prince for not being able to save him? Or even to Jean-Jaques, who she still felt a twinge off regret attacking. Tears continued to pour from her eyes. She couldn't do anything. She was a Zero, like her peers had always told her.
The sounds of strained coughing jolted her out of her despair, "Ms...Ms. Valliere," Wales opened his eyes weakly. He could barely see through dust and his condition wasn't helping things. Even breathing felt like torture. Wardes had pierced his lungs.
"You're-You're alive!" A relieved smile made its way to her face and she would have hugged him if not for his injuries, "Come on, we have to get out of here now!"
"No...no, it's too late for me," Wales coughed and winced as more blood fell down his chin.
"No, no it's not too late!" Against his protests Louise took hold of his arm and draped it across her shoulder. The prince was heavy due to her small size but she wouldn't leave him here. He could still live. He could survive this and the Tudor's wouldn't have to die.
"I'm not leaving you! Come on!"
Fouquet grit her teeth as she saw the enchantments on the vault's door. The alarm wouldn't be a problem now given the situation the castle was in, but the defensive charms were nothing to scoff at: One wrong move and the wind enchantment would cut up whoever was on the other side. In hindsight maybe staying in prison would have been preferable.
"Hurry," Tabitha urged her from behind, staff at the ready. Already she could see the debris being forced apart, either through spirit magic or the Vampire's brute force. She closed her eyes and called Sylphid with the link. Coming back out through the way they came was impossible now that their pursuers were there, so they had to find a way to escape from the vault itself.
"I'm doing my best here," She muttered back. Bypassing the enchantments was a long process and that was when she usually wasn't being pressured by being attacked by bloodsuckers who'd likely drain her dry the first chance she got.
"How much longer?" Tabitha asked.
"Not much longer. Maybe a minute," Fouquet twitched as she heard another smash from the other side. They didn't have much time left.
Nodding, Tabitha cast another spell, "Air shield." As soon as the pair broke through they were met with a wall of wind pushing them back. Tabitha closed her eyes and continued casting, using all her remaining willpower to push the two firstborns back. She was about to run out willpower and already she could feel the two slowly but surely pushing through the winds.
"I've got it!" Fouquet's smile was short lived as she turned around only to be met with a hand grabbing her by the neck and pushing her against the wall. Through pained eyes he could see his attacker. There was no mistaking it: He could see the blood red eyes and fangs extending from the top of her mouth. Vampires could conceal these features easily but when hunting prey they never bothered to hide it.
"Surrender or we will be forced to kill you," Daphne proclaimed. She would've drained their blood in order to knock them out, but in their state and wounds they'd taken from both the sunlight and the attacks she was unsure if she would be able to stop herself from draining them dry in order to heal herself and abate her hunger. She needed to keep calm.
Of to the side she could see Tabitha being raised up in the same way. Taking a strained breath, her hands tried to pry of Daphne's ironclad grip. Breathing was becoming harder and her vision was beginning to black out. The Vampire was choking her, she thought to herself, and Tabitha was likely dealing with the same thing. Was this how it would end? She thought for sure that she could succeed in this job and then visit Tiffi after. Numbly, she took slight comfort in the lantern's light and warmth.
Wait, a lantern?
With the last of her energy she grabbed the lantern hanging on the wall and smashed it across the vampire's face, "Ahh!" Daphne screamed as the fire and oil collided with her skin. Amethyst turned to her sister and her grip on Tabitha loosened.
"Duck!" At Fouquet's yell Tabitha kicked her captor hard in the stomach and fell onto the floor. Raising her wand, Fouquet spoke the words of a quick spell and sent an earthen projectile at the wall next to Tabitha.
Sunlight breached the dark passageway as the wall fell to her spell. The two vampires hissed and yelled as the yellow light touched their skin before they retreated down the passageway towards the shade. She almost found it pitiable in a way: So much power, second only to the Elves, and just a little sunlight could be the death of them. Fire was a similar weakness, though it was less effective.
"Come on!"
Fouquet grabbed the vault's door and wrenched it open, waiting for Tabitha to enter behind her, before slamming it shut. The vault was filled with riches and other artifacts that she no doubt would have found interest in if not for the situation they were currently in. She ran towards the center and grabbed the music box and tossed it haphazardly into the pack.
Now they needed to find a way to escape.
"Escape?" Tabitha intoned.
"I don't know, alright!" Fouquet yelled back, "The walls of the Vault are enchanted and reinforced so we can't just break it or we would've done that instead. We can't exactly go back now that they're waiting for us in the passageway.
Tabitha's eyes narrowed and she tapped her foot on the ground. The walls were reinforced, but that didn't mean everything was, "Floor?" She asked again.
"The floor? What are you-" Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she realized what Tabitha was saying, "Yeah, the floors of the vault likely aren't reinforced - Newcastle's a floating castle so if anybody tried to dig a hole through the bottom then people would see them," She bit her lip, "But even if we make a hole we'd just be falling to our doom."
"Sylphid," Was her only reply.
"Right, I keep forgetting about that dragon of yours," She smiled wryly and began to cast the spell. Already she could hear the sounds of footsteps and strain from the other side of the vault door. She rolled her eyes - Those two were unstoppable monsters, in tenacity if nothing else. She made the hole as quickly as she could and turned back to Tabitha.
"So is your Familiar already there?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go!"
At the sound of her yell the door to the vault went down with a crash. Daphne and Amethyst broke down the metal barrier just in time to see Fouquet jumping into the hole. With a smug smile, she turned back to to the two of them before she vanished from their sight.
Air rushed up at her as she fell before she suddenly stopped as she landed on Sylphid's back. The blue dragon chirped at the sight of her master before she flew them to Albion's mainland. Tabitha was silent, although Fouquet could see the girl's hands caressing the top of the dragon's head affectionately. Smiling, the thief also stroked the dragon's back, earning her a happy chirp as well.
"Well, I can't believe we survived that," Fouquet started, "Guess that's one thing I can tell Tiffi about - I managed to survive against a Vampire," She leaned back on her place and sighed in relief. It was over.
"Not done. Delivery," Tabitha reminded her.
Ah, right, that. She didn't let it bother her. The hard part was over and she could finally relax. After this she'd go and visit Tiffi before she was called back by her new masters. She would find a way to escape the chain they wound around her neck, but for now she could bask in the satisfaction of a job well-done and another day she got to live.
Everything was a haze. Raziel breathed the dust and heavy air as consciousness returned to him. The first thing he noticed was that he was being pinned down by something heavy...and sharp. Flinching, he tried to stand only to fall down again when whatever was piercing him slid deeper with his movement. Pain was nothing new to him, but the weight and sharp points made it hard to focus and move.
He reached a hand out to try and crawl forward and his eyes caught sight of what had pierced his body: Shards of glass piercing through the skin of his arms from his wrist to his shoulders. His arms shook from the pain and even the smallest twitch caused sharp pricks of pain to engulf his limbs.
"Damnation," He clenched his hands as the feeling of pain on his body multiplied. The glass stabbing into him he could feel it sliding deeper inwards with every attempt of movement he did. He bit his tongue in order to avoid screaming as he felt whatever was left of his spine nearly break before he fell down to the floor in a crumpled heap one again. It felt like he was being stabbed by a a giant sword through his back and arms.
Blearily he could make out the runes on his left hand beginning to glow and once again he felt the all too familiar dull ache spreading across his head. Gods above, why now? Was pain a required catalyst for him to gain his memories? Thinking back on it, he did always have his flashes of memory either in his sleep or after extreme bouts of pain and trauma. He cursed whoever made these runes. They must have enjoyed pain or something.
"He has attacked Lord Seath! Make sure that he does not escape!" To punctuate her statement she raised her dagger above her head and brought it down on top of the abomination. Growling, Manus the blue-coated knight's knight hand and threw her off the side of the balcony and fed as he heard the sickening crunch at the sound of her body hitting the ground.
Escape was proving far more difficult than he had anticipated. After leaving Seath to his burning archives some of the remaining knights in the castle investigated the commotion and found him as he was trying to leave. He didn't get a chance to even explain what exactly he had done before they attacked him. (correctly) guessing that he was behind the disorder of the archives.
"The Lords Blades," He mumbled to himself as another trickle of memory came back to him. Another branch of the knights loyal to the lord of this palace, but different from the Silver Knights and Channelers. While the Silver Knights were warriors and the Channelers were close to sorcerers, the Lords Blades could be accurately described as being assassins. They weren't exactly the best when it came to face-to-face combat but their numbers and his
"Destroy the abomination!" Another rush of footsteps caught his attention. He ran towards the stairway and threw the lever, watching with slight amusement as the knights were unable to reach him.
As the stairway came to a halt he quickly realized that getting down would be a problem. He looked down at the edge 'frowned' as he saw the rather large gap from the bottom of the stairway to the end of the pit below. He stepped back touched the bloody skin on his back. They weren't wings, but would they be able to slow down his descent if he spread them using his hands?
He shook his head. He had no choice for it: The knights would find a way to get to him eventually and he needed to escape. Taking what might have been his last (unnecessary) breath, he ran towards the end of the staircase and jumped.
Footsteps alerted him to another presence, "Guiche...?" He called out, his voice weak and strained from the effort of trying to keep his focus. Memories of different times engulfed him, making it hard to differentiate memory from reality.
"Another Daughter of Chaos?" Raziel rolled to the side, barely avoiding the pillar of fire that came from under the earth beneath him. Fighting the Bed of Chaos would prove difficult, he knew this already, but Quelana hadn't exactly told him she had one sister unaccounted for who still had enough of her mental faculties left that she could use pyromancy effectively.
His thoughts drifted back to Laurentius before he crushed the train of thought - Now was not the time to reminisce on past regrets. His mind was already beginning to formulate a plan. Attacking her head-on was possible but given her state it wouldn't have surprised him if she burned herself alive in order to hurt or distract him.
"Leave!" The distorted voice of the 'protector' yelled at him. Seeing that he had ignored her warning she gave another frenzied yell and threw a few more fireballs at him in an attempt to drive him away. She would protect her mother and her remaining sisters, even if it cost whatever life she had left in her! He wouldn't take that away from her!
"Abyss take me!" He jumped to the side and quickly took a swig of the estus flask as he felt the leftover parts of the flame lap at his skin. Her pyromancy was much stronger than his without a doubt and her reflexes were quick. Groaning in frustration, he activated his pyromancer's glove and cast the spell he had learned from Laurentius long ago.
The remaining Daughter of Chaos' eyes widened when she saw her opponent suddenly become covered in a thin sheet of water. Her surprise was short lived, however, and she once again threw all she had against him when she saw him charge forward, sword and shield raised to attack her.
Raziel winced as the fireballs hit against his torso, but he kept going forward, ignoring the heat and fumes the shield of artificial sweat gave as it withstood the barrage of fire and heat.
When their distance had dropped to near non-existence he dropped the shield and used his free-hand to grab hold of her neck. Ever so briefly he caught the sight of her surprised face from underneath his head before it contorted in pain at his vice-like grip.
It was his victory. With a grunt of effort he raised her up into the air and smashed her against the ground, smiling slightly as he heard the unmistakable sounds of bones cracking. Ignoring her pained cries, he took up his sword with both hands and raised it above his head.
As he was about to strike her down he was blinded by a bright green light. He raised up his hand and closed his eyes and as soon as the light disappeared his opponent had disappeared. He looked around him warily: Was that an escape attempt? No, none of the other sisters exhibited the ability to do something else taken care of her then?
Shaking his head, he picked up his shield and thought of other things. Like how he was going to kill the demonized Witch of Chaos.
"What do we have here?" That voice wasn't Guiche's. A hand took hold of his hair and raised his head up roughly. Keeping his lips pursed, Raziel looked up and stared defiantly at the person who had him at his mercy. Another soldier, a recruit who had gotten lucky and somehow hadn't gotten himself killed yet. The Undead kept eye contact, keeping his expression neutral even at the sight of the figure's amused grin.
"Looks like you're trapped here," The larger male released his grip on his hair and stepped on the glass piercing his arm, digging it in deeper. Raziel's hands clenched and he growled, half from the pain and half from the anger. He didn't care if he died here - he would likely revive elsewhere - but he needed to make sure that his Master and everyone else made it out.
That meant he had to kill anyone who stood in his way.
"This'll be a mercy," The figure unsheathed his sword and prepared to drive it through the prone man's skull before a cold chill suddenly overtook him. Looking down, he felt his breath stop as he saw the injured young man looking up at him with fiery eyes, enough to give him pause. He backed away and let out a nervous sound as he saw what appeared to be tendrils of darkness lapping at his left hand and expanding all over to his arm and up to his neck. Something was wrong. This was...this was no royalist.
It was a monster. He had to kill it now.
Erratic footsteps came from behind before he heard a sudden yell, "Leave him alone!" The attacker's figure stiffened as sharp pain engulfed his stomach. Looking down, he managed to make out a rapier piercing through his midsection before consciousness left him.
Raziel looked up at his savior. Guiche stood there, his face a mix of shock and despair as he saw the body bleeding on the floor. Dying. Because of him. He looked down at his hands and the rapier; both covered in blood, smelling of rust and decay. His hands shook and he dropped the weapon he took so much pride in. Oh Brimir above, he had taken a life.
"Guiche..." Raziel called out, jogging the noble from his mental breakdown, "Push the debris...we need to leave...now..." Guiche looked injured, but not nearly to the same extent as he was: He could see the noble was favoring his right leg - likely a sprain - and there were small cuts here and there on his chest and neck. Still, he looked rather healthy considering they nearly had the hallway collapse on top of them.
Guiche's lips moved, trying to form words, but no answer came out. At Raziel's call he took deep, rapid breaths and began to life the heavy rocks surrounding the Undead. At least he could save someone from death-
"Oh Brimir!" Guiche jumped back and felt his breathing quicken as he caught caught sight of what lied beneath. Raziel wasn't bleeding, but he could see shards of glass, some of them larger than his head, digging into Raziel's arms and legs. The worst of the lot, however, was a large shard piercing the middle of his back which looked to be halfway in already.
It was a miracle that he was still alive.
"We need to...find master..." Guiche watched, disbelieving, as Raziel forced himself to stand and forcibly remove one of the larger shards that was stabbed into his arm. The process continued, each shard being pulled forcibly from their place before all that remained was the 'spike' protruding from his back. Raziel reached his arms back and sighed as he found that he couldn't reach it.
"Help me with this," He gestured to Guiche and showed him his back. The noble looked as if he was about to faint.
"Wh-What!? You want me to- No!" He shook his head forcefully, "It's too far deep in! Removing it will likely kill from blood loss!"
"I have not died yet," Raziel pointed out with a roll of his eyes, "Please pull it out before completely destroys what remains of my spine. I cannot fight if I cannot stand upright."
With trembling hands, Guiche reached out and took hold of the glass' most blunt edges and pulled. Raziel his eyes and bit his tongue again to keep himself from screaming. The glass had likely been embedded into his spine at this point and pulling it out was proving rather...uncomfortable. Guiche struggled for a few more seconds before it slowly but steadily began to slide out of him.
"...Thank you," Raziel leaned against the wall as the glass finally fell to the floor. Taking shallow breaths, he looked at his hand and watched as the holes and cuts were covered by darkness briefly before disappearing, leaving no traces of the injury that had plagued him not even a minute ago. That was...worrying. He'd never seen something like that happen to him before.
"Y-Your back's healed," There was an unmistakable sense of relief in Guiche's voice. Raziel blinked and removed the medical eyepatch covering his eye. It was healed - He could see almost perfectly, like it had been never injured in the first place. Undead regenerated slowly but surely, not like...this. Something was telling him that whatever was happening to him wouldn't last too long.
"We need to find master," His eye began to feel pain again: The Familiar's link was activating. He could see...they were making their way to the boat. Finally a stroke of good luck. Now all they had to do was meet her there then find the Viscount so they could all leave this doomed place. This was- Hold on, what was the Viscount doing?
A shot interrupted his view and pain engulfed his head briefly as he tried to re-focus. That was...blood and damnation, his master was in danger, "We need to hurry," He took the crystal sword from his belt and offered it to Guiche, "I am not sure if we will find more resistance. You need to defend yourself and a rapier will not be enough."
Guiche looked down at the malformed sword before hesitantly reaching a hand out and grabbing the handle of the offered weapon. He shivered: Whatever metal it was made of was cold, but it was light and even he could tell that the thing was sharp.
As Raziel turned he caught sight of three more soldiers running down the hall towards them. He made to unsheathe Derflinger before he stopped. He didn't want to use a sword. He clenched his left hand and felt the dark hand grow, the dark tendrils of flesh on it extending from his wrist and reaching up to his neck. He wanted to tear them apart, to kill them so thoroughly that there would be no doubt in his mind that they had passed from this world. Guiche looked worriedly at his companion and gulped as she saw the darkness tainting his skin. What was going on?
With that last thought, Raziel released an inhumane growl and charged forward.
When Louise had seen the boat she had felt hope rise within her again. Of course she still had to find Raziel and Guiche - she couldn't very well leave them here to die while she escaped - but she could at least leave the prince in relative safety while she searched for her companions. She noted worriedly that the prince's breathing became softer and lighter with every minute that passed. She cursed the other bottle for breaking. Her sensible side told her that unless the prince received medical attention he was going to die, but she drowned out its voice. He would survive, she would make sure of it.
That was until she heard the gunshot. Wardes had caught up to them and before Louise could retaliate he had shot at them with a flintlock. Using the last of his strength Wales spun her around and tackled her to the ground, yelling in pain as he the bullet grazed his side. Louise felt her head smash against the stone floor and a wave of dizziness overtake her at the impact.
"It seems I underestimated you, Louise," Wardes dropped the gun and took out his remaining one, flinching at the dull ache her previous blasts and the stab had given him. They were crude weapons and he felt little need nor desire to use them, but he was tired of this charade - The Prince needed to die and, now that she had proven herself unable to accept his reasoning, Louise now had to as well. He would make some story to the princess about how she died and the letter fell into Reconquista's hands despite his best efforts. She would never even suspect the truth of the matter.
With trembling hands, Louise fumbled for her wand and raised it to cast one more fireball spell, draining the last of her willpower, "F-Fireball!" She aimed in Wardes general direction, praying against all odds that it would be enough to stop him and save them both.
Wardes saw the attacking coming and stepped to the side as she cast. The wall behind him blew apart at her spell and he felt the cold Albion wind drift into the room, causing a slight chill. Undisturbed her attempted attack, Wardes walked forward until he could look down at their prone forms. Louise had fainted, likely due to lack of willpower, but the prince was still looking up at him with defiant eyes. Scowling slightly, he raised the firearm and and aimed for the prince's head.
"Wales!"
The door smashed open. Wardes turned to the source of the commotion and saw a dark blur run towards him, "What-" He was interrupted by a fist smashing across his face and another punching him in the stomach, "Agh!" The arm holding onto the flintlock was held in a vice like grip. Wardes felt his head lighten as whatever was attacking him wrapped its hands around his neck.
Baring his teeth, Raziel smashed the taller male against the floor brutally before dragging him to the wall. He could feel the dark hand eating away at the Viscount's arm, the rot and decay already setting in. Giving a last growl, he threw the traitorous knight through the wall his master blew and onto the large pit below.
Wardes didn't scream as the wind pushed against him, only staring at who had attacked him. His eyes caught sight of Raziel's yellow irises and he couldn't help but laugh as the reality of the situation came at full force. He had underestimated his fiance and her Familiar. A mistake he wouldn't make the next time he crossed paths with them.
"What happened?" Guiche ran into the room and gasped when he saw the prone forms of Louise and the prince, "N-Nevermind, we have to go now!"
"Agreed. Take master to the boat and I will carry Wales," He pointed to the boat covered by the thick cloth. Wales must have told his master of the boat's location; it was the only way he knew as to how she found this in the panic. A small smile made its way to his face as he made to pick up the prince.
"W...Wait..." Wales pushed away Raziel's offered hand, "Raziel...Ms. Valliere didn't heed my request...but perhaps you will..." His vision was blurring and every breath came out more forced than the last, "You...you remember my last request, right?" He nodded, "Good...then you must escape this place and...and..." He coughed more blood.
"Talk later," Raziel offered his hand to the injured prince, but again he pushed it away, "You wish to die, but there is in point it now. Your people are dead and the boat is near. Come with us..."
"Heh...I won't survive the standing...I think," He gave a wry laugh before his face contorted in pain, "Miss. Valliere's medicine...gave me some time...but I've lost too much blood as it is," He closed his eyes briefly and looked like he was about to fall asleep before he jolted up again, "Reconquista has control of the town. Without medicine or magic I won't survive much longer."
"So do you propose we leave you here?" Raziel asked. He could see truth in Wales words: His condition was already horrible as it was with the injuries and bullet graze but being dragged all over the castle while covered in dust in grime hadn't done him any favors. It honestly surprised him that the prince was still alive to converse with him, "If we cannot save you then...we can bring your body back with us."
"No..." He gave a weak shake of the head, "If my body isn't found...Cromwell will use it as an excuse to attack Tristain...they'll say they were sheltering me...and Tristain will fall...I've already told you this..." Raziel looked away. Wales frowned, "Tell Ms. Valliere that I appreciate all her efforts...and I'm sorry for wasting it. Also...tell Ann to be strong for me...please..."
"..." Raziel said nothing, but Wales saw him nod all the same.
"I have one final request...if you'll allow me to be selfish once again..." Another nod. Wales pointed at the fallen pistol, "If Reqonquista finds me...they will torture me, ensure that I die slowly and painfully...before propping me up as a symbol of their victory," He coughed, "I am dying already...but if they reach me before the last of my life ebbs away...they will heal me just enough for me to die in agony as a final nail in the coffin of the Tudors."
He understood what Wales was asking of him. He clawed at the ground in frustration before he took the pistol in his hand. Wales laughed again and took hold of the gun's barrel, maneuvering it till it was pressing against where his heart was, "It will be quick. Pull the trigger..." Raziel's hand shook he pressed the weapon harder against Wales' chest.
The prince smiled one last time before everything went cold.
"She's taking a while to get here," Fouquet muttered irritatedly to Tabitha beside her, who answered her comment with a barely noticeable shrug. The drop-off point was a small hill a bit of a way out of the town, meaning no one would interrupt them - Especially given the assault taking place at newcastle and the early hour the meeting was taking place. Still, she would've preferred to be as far away from this place as soon as possible.
The place was barren. Besides a few trees and some bushes there was nothing much that could even be vaguely considered as being a hiding place.
"Here," Tabitha closed her book and pointed at the bottom of the hill. Fouquet looked to where she was pointing at and saw a cloaked figure, female by the look of her, making her way towards the hill's summit. She saw Tabitha's shoulders shake ever so slightly before she released a small breath. Fouquet raised an eyebrow. It wasn't much, but that was a lot of emotion considering how stoic the girl was.
"Were you successful," The woman asked. Fouquet took note of her appearance: It was hard to see much due to the cloak covering her body, but the cloth was of fine make and the woman's pale skin contrasted rather clearly with the dark cloth and the small bits of purplish-black hair she could see at the hood's edge. Definitely a noblewoman of some kind.
"Yes, here it is," Fouquet rummaged in the sack and brought out the music box, offering it to the mysterious lady, "Whoever your master is better appreciate that we managed to get this before Reconquista and those Vampires."
"I'm sure he will be very pleased," She answered her dismissively, taking the music box from her grasp and concealing it in her cloak. Her eyes drifted over to Tabitha and, just for the briefest of seconds, she gave a twisted smile before she returned to her usual blank expression, "I see you completed your mission successfully once again. My Lord sends his regards and hopes that your mother is doing well."
Tabitha's fingers shook and she looked like she wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth and turned away, walking down the hill and calling Sylphid towards her. Fouquet watched the two warily and followed the bluenette down the hill, already making mental notes on how to get away from her new employers as fast as possible.
The hooded figure placed the music box into her robe before she turned around, "I know you're there," She suddenly called out. No reply came, "My gargoyles spotted you and I can feel your presence. Why not make this simple and come out?"
From behind a tree another hooded figure stepped forward, raising his arms in a light shrug, "You've caught me, my lady. I was under the assumption that I had managed to avoid alerting you to my presence, but it appears that my confidence was misplaced," He smiled. She didn't, "Come now, why must you act so hostile? I did not come here to make enemies with you."
"I assume you killed the actual messenger and took his place?" She asked. He didn't answer, "I'll admit I'm impressed of the tenacity both you and your master have shown, but this ends here. Leave now and I'll spare you."
"I came to talk, my lady, not to fight," He bowed, "My name is Julio Cesare, and if my information is correct you are Madame Sheffield, are you not? We tried to talk to you normally months ago, but your master refused our invitations and barred us at the game when we had come to visit. I understand that it was a minor scandal in Gallia for a while, to have a king bar entrance to someone in my master's position."
"Enough. Talk now before I lose my patience." Sheffield interrupted.
"As you wish," Another bow, "Our request is simple: We seek a truce with you and your master to ensure the future of Halkeginia from a threat that involves us all. If you ally with us we'll do our best to accommodate each and every desire you and your master wish, but when the time comes that we need your aid we ask that you come to remember our alliance."
"You want a treaty?" A laugh escaped her lips, "Priest, my master's desires are not so base that they can be bought with simple offers of wealth and power. What he wishes is something that neither you nor I can grant, though I will do my best to aid him in his efforts to attain it." She waved a hand dismissively, "Leave this place. Your offer is rejected and if we see each other again it will be as enemies."
Julio sighed. He was afraid of that, "Then I have no choice," He unsheathed his sword, "The power you wield is not yours alone. With your death the runes will transfer and whoever receives them next might be more accepting of our offers. I apologize for this; I had hoped to find another way."
"Hmm. Interesting," Sheffield grinned at the sudden challenged. The runes in her forehead lit up and she muttered something under her breath. She hadn't yet tested how her summons did against competent opponents. All the prisoners she'd used as practice always screamed or begged for their lives; it made it rather hard to tell how effective her summons would be in an actual fight.
The ground shook. Julio stepped back and his eyes narrowed at the creature she had summoned: A large construct that looked to be made of either metal or smooth stone, carrying in its hands large trident with a circular end. Its face was chiseled but not very detailed and at the back of its neck he could see a circle similar to what the end of the trident contained. He noted rather worriedly that despite having both legs it was kneeling down, meaning that despite its large size it would be larger still when it stood up.
"A Titanite Demon, as many in my old homeland so crudely called it," Sheffield commented, "Most of the remaining ones were crippled: Missing their heads, legs or various other things they needed. I made them whole again," She laughed at Julio's silence, "Did you really believe a mortal like you could defeat a Daughter of Chaos? Die now, knowing that all you've done was for nothing."
The Demon raised its trident and stabbed it down at him. Just before it made contact a loud roar encompassed the area and a large blue dragon swooped down from the skies and charged the demon, knocking it to the ground with a loud boom. Julio smiled.
"You are not the only one with friends, Miss. Sheffield," He smirked up at the dragon, "Azzuro is a native to this land, but I think you will find him to be a capable of matching the creature you summoned," He clenched his right hand and felt the familiar shock course through him as a bolt appeared in his fist. Light and Dark. Life and Death. She had the power to summon, to create life. He had light, the power to fight against his opponents with magic from powers gifted to him.
Sheffield's smile never waned.
"We shall see."
Louise woke up with a raindrop hitting against her cheek. Blinking, she focused her eyes and saw a gray sky staring back at her. What was going on? She remembered leaving her room and-
"The prince!" She sat up with a yell. She looked around her frantically. She was on a small air-boat. Off to the front she could see Guiche alternating between handling the sails and looking around them to make sure none of the Reconquista ships were closing in. Next to her was Raziel, his knees close to his chest and staring down lifelessly at the floor of the small vessel.
"Prince Wales!" She craned her head. Raziel and Guiche must have saved them! Yes, that meant that the prince was...
...
...Where was the prince?
"Prince Wales!" She called out again, more desperately this time. Guiche winced and looked at Raziel, but the Undead said nothing, continuing to look down at the floor and ignoring his master's calls. His wounds had returned, as he had expected: Whatever had healed him disappeared as soon as the fighting died down and his runes stopped glowing. It hurt, but none of it registered in his mind.
Guiche looked like he wanted to ask what was wrong with him and how he'd done it, but he kept quiet. He was tired and he had no desire to answer Guiche's question on the days long trip back to Tristain in this small and cramped boat.
"Raziel, where's the prince?" Louise turned and asked. He said nothing, "Raziel, as your master I command you to tell me where the prince is," Still nothing. Louise scowled, "Raziel, this is no time for arguments! The prince is-"
"Dead," He finally answered, "The Prince...Wales is dead..."
Louise opened her mouth in reply but nothing came out. The prince was dead? How!? He was alive when they were escaping and they could have gone into town, get help for him from some of the village doctors and healers, "H-How did he die?" She asked nervously.
"...I killed him."
It took a a few seconds for the words to register in her mind. When they had she did the first thing that came to mind, "Y-You what!?" She lunged toward Raziel and gripped the front of his dirty tunic tightly, "Wh-Why would you do that!? We were going to get him out! He was going to survive! I made sure of it!" Guiche looked uncomfortable at her yelling.
"No...he was already dead..." He made no effort to push his master off, "He...lost too much blood...Reconquista would have found him...killing him...was reasonable."
"Don't say that!" She slapped him. He gave no reaction, "That traitor said the same thing! He said that there was a reason for killing the prince and that his death was inevitable! Are you saying that Wardes was right!? That killing the prince was the right thing to do!?
"..." He said nothing. Louise pounded her fists against his chest and yelled questions and curses in equal measure: All the frustration, grief, anger and pain being released all at once. Raziel said nothing, even as her punches began to hurt him.
"Valliere, that's enough!" Guiche took hold of Louise's hands and pulled her off the unresponsive Undead, "Prince Wales asked Raziel to shoot him to make his death quick! It's not his fault, he was only doing what the prince had told him!" She continued to try and wrench away from him, "Stop it already! There's nothing we could have done to save him!" He groaned as Louise elbowed him in the gut. This girl was feisty, "I know you must have tried your best, but without any healing magic none of us could have done anything."
"...You're wrong," She bit her lower lip, "We could have gone to town, we could have-"
"The town is under control of Reconquista's soldiers. If we landed they would have taken us prisoner and tortured the prince," Guiche answered back quickly, parroting the prince's earlier words, "I know you're angry at Reconquista, but there's no need to hurt your Familiar over it. He's already been injured enough as it is," Louise couldn't help but scoff. This coming from the fop who wanted to beat him up for defending that servant friend of his.
"Look, lets just...calm down...and think on what we have to do when we get back to Tristain. It'll be a couple of days before we get back and something tells me we're not going to get a parade in our honor," Guiche pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was supposed to be a quick and easy mission to serve the princess and earn glory, but everything had spiraled out of control and now he just wanted to go home and forget everything that had happened. What a mess.
"...Okay..." Louise shook of Guiche and sat across from her Familiar. She wanted to hit something, to grab Wardes and drag him before the courts of Tristain so that he would die a slow and humiliating death at the hands of the country that he had betrayed. She clenched her fists, ignoring the wet blood coating her fingers-
Wait, fresh blood?
She let out a held breath as she looked down at her hands. Her fingers were coated with a thin coat of the crimson liquid, still fresh and new. She looked across from her and saw red streaks on Raziel's tunic, "Raziel...is that the prince's blood?" No, that made no sense. If the prince bled on him the blood should have dried or washed away by now.
"..." He shook his head.
"That means..." She stood up abruptly and started unbuttoning his tunic. Guiche looked like he was about to complain but a glare shut him up. She placed a hand against his neck: Still no heartbeat and he wasn't breathing; probably too tired to make the effort. She unfastened the buttons faster, her breath quickening in nervousness as she saw more and more of his skin.
"What the..." Her grip on him loosened as he saw the cuts underneath his clothing, but that wasn't caused caused her to pause.
He was bleeding.
Oh God, writing that was horrible! One clunky 'fight' scene after another and a build-up I have doubts I can follow up on :( Alright so the chapter after this is the lead-up to the attack on Tarbes and the aftermath of Newcastle's sacking, so it'll be easier to write - At least there'll be no fight scenes for a bit :/ Now the only problem I have is the dragons raiment and whether I should even include it or just replace it with sylphid or something - The main advantage is that it can fly and I can just use miracles and sorceries for firepower.
Now to answer some questions/comments before I go.
Futon Lord - Mott's Pisaca was an artificial firekeeper, not a real one. Her bonfire was already piss-weak when she was alive and now that she's dead it's basically gone. He has to find a new one.
XcelltasticX - Dark Souls 2 being released won't affect this fic. One thing, though: I already have a plan for a lot of the Gods/Dragons/Lore so if DS2 breaks that then I'll have to either re-write or disregard DS2 canon/lore altogether. Hey, it's not my fault DS1 had every character fall under 'Alternative Character Interpretation' from the mighty Gwyn to even the lowly nice guy Griggs. I also already have an idea for firekeepers, but I'll keep that hidden for now ;p
Demons Anarcy - Wardes an Undead? Don't think I foreshadowed that. Wales turning Undead is canon, however, and since this is a canon rehash...
Solar Jarl the Canon King 44k - Saito was known as a 'tough nut' and he knocked out a lot of soldiers and commanders. Regardless things change come the battle of Saxe-Gotha. Just wait.
JagerIV - Thanks for the advice :D Also, both are passive on purpose. Louise is aggressive but doesn't really have enough knowledge to act and Raziel's passive given his past experiences. Can't really blame him considering how his journey ended up.
madlink007 - The only knight I know from ZNT is Agnes, and I'm pretty sure she's asexual/celibate given her experiences and career.
thefluffyone93 - One thing that's made rather obvious in the story is that Raziel is reactive rather than proactive. Notice that when asked about being an Undead he withholds information he deems troublesome and lies at different points in the story, either seriously or jokingly. Any sane person would ask 'How/Why do you have the staff' and give multiple reasons why keeping it is a bad idea, but when Osmond says no he shrugs and lets it go. He's shown as uncaring and passive since, beyond the Count Mott arc, he doesn't actually do anything unless there's confirmed danger to him or people around him.
Also, if they barely believed he was an Undead, why would they believe his claim that he was the fictional knight from what they know is a fictional story? When Louise found out he was an Undead he could've told her his life story but instead he doesn't say anything and when others pry he either lies, doesn't answer or gives half-truths. They know he's Undead, but he's not eager to keep bringing it up and unless Louise pressures him to spill he's not gonna say anything since he doesn't have fond memories of Lordran or the Kiln - The place was a hellhole and all his friends are likely dead at this point, so there's nothing that's making him want to say his past to others.