Well Thesis Paper research starts next week and so my fic updating time is likely to take a big dive. The next chapter after this is where people might start leaving the story in outrage while crying canon defilement so to anyone still reading I thank you for your continued patronage and hope that you continue reading even after this chapter and the next.
Oh, and I need to replace the romance tag with something. What do you guys think? I'm partial to replacing it with either drama or friendship.
Warning: This chapter contains annoying angst. Enjoy!
The palace of Tristain bustled with activity. There were only three weeks left till the wedding and the halls and rooms of the magnificent castle were filled with individuals of various sorts, all of them doing their best to prepare the castle and, more importantly, the princess herself for the ceremony. Barrels of the finest wine, dresses of the finest make and many other such fancies were shipped and delivered to the castle and the surrounding areas in preparation for the grand event.
The mood around the town was anxious, but also undeniably festive as merchants hawked their wares and people traveled to the capital city in order to attend the wedding about to take place soon. The wedding was to take place in Tristain's royal palace with the procession going through the town right afterwards. Nobles, merchants and various other people from all around Tristain and Germania began to converge on the large city either to pay their respects or use the large population and celebration as a way to increase their own wealth and influence.
But with the festivities came tension. Despite Newcastle's fall and the establishment of Reconquista as the new government of Albion, the new regime had defied expectations and offered a truce to Tristain and all surrounding countries, claiming that they held no desire to make enemies of Tristain and that they wished 'everlasting peace and cooperation now that the tyrannical Tudor line have been ousted from power'.
Unsurprisingly, no one in Tristain's higher council believed them and there was more pressure than ever for the princess to marry in order for Germania's army to join with them and give them a fighting chance against Albion's inevitable counter-attack. It was a common enough tactic - The sword and the bread. Offer the bread as an offering of peace so that when the enemy let their guard down the sword could be used to stab them in the back.
It wasn't only the situation with Albion that caused tension, however. Tristain and Germania had always been historic enemies and while there were cases of marriage between noble families between the lands before it was the first time the royal family would mix their bloodline with the 'barbarians' and so it was considered a historical event that could either repair the relationship between the two old enemies fully or send them further into a spiral of conflict.
And that didn't even account to the rumors of Reconquista sympathizers infiltrating the walls of the castle itself and poisoning the mind of many nobles with promises of power or appealing to their sympathy or greed. With every single day that passed the dissident whispers seemed to increase, with many casting doubt that the marriage was the best course of action and others outright claiming that a full treaty of cooperation with Albion would be far more beneficial for all of them than a marriage binding with their old enemies.
Despite the castle's busy state, there were still pockets within that kept to themselves for various reasons whether they be work, business or other justifications for their absence. One of these was the office of the head of Judicial Affairs, located on the western end of the castle.
The room was small, likely due to the fact that it was mostly for appearance and not much else. Official business was done with personal inspections and another building was constructed for most of the judgements; even more so now since King Henry died and the Cardinal had been kept busy with other things. Reading the individual reports was time consuming and the strained clergyman reluctantly gave the Head the full say on what the judgements would ultimately amount to without his supervision.
Despite its decorative status one could tell the room had a lavish amount of money spent on it: Various paintings dotted the walls along with at least two bookcases filled with unread books on the left and right side of the room. Beyond that there was a large desk filled with paperwork and various rugs and other cloths bought from the traders of Rub' al khali decorating the room. It was rather clear where a lot of the confiscated money went.
Behind the desk an old man sat, his gray hair and aging body covered by the white uniform indicating his high importance. Alexander Richmond, a figure both nobles and commoners alike learned to be wary of. As the head of Judicial A1ffairs he held the power to sentence all but the highest nobles to the dungeons with their power and wealth forcibly stripped from them based on his word alone. As such it was common practice for most nobles of lower and middle influence to curry favor with him either with favors or gifts of leisure.
One of which he was drinking right now. The noble smiled as he looked down at the chalice he held, watching the blood-red Gallian wine swirl in the class container before he raised it up to his lips to take another gulp. Montferrat was very generous with his gifts, always giving him the best of his takings and making sure his offerings were above some of the others.
Very generous and all he had to do was turn the other way when some of the uppity peasants complained about the tax collector 'abusing' his position, "Feh," He scoffed and waved his wand at the stack of paperwork. At his wave the papers in the desk burned into ash and disappeared, leaving nothing but the empty desk to greet him. Thankfully he had paid for that enchantment and made the desk fireproof. It was much more convenient than any other method he'd used before.
The papers were all pointless - More complaints about Montferat's 'abuse' and even some complaints from some backwater village about the water level rising and their lord not being able to send help. All useless, especially since most of the complaints were against nobles who had earned his favor or shared his views on the royal family. He wasn't a fool and he had no desire to alienate any possible allies he could've converted to his side.
A knock on the door interrupted him as he was about to take another sip of his wine, "Come in," He called out gruffly.
The door opened with a silent creak and a hooded figure entered the room, locking the door behind him silently before he entered the room. Richmond knew who he was; another messenger to tell him of new developments. With another wave of the wand and a muttered incantation he cast a silence spell on the room. It was an unnecessary precaution, but they had insisted he remain careful. He scoffed at their pleas for caution.
After all, who would ever suspect the Head of Judicial Affairs to be a Reconquista sympathizer?
"I bring news, Milord," The messenger, ostensibly given the nickname 'Sparrow' for communication purposes, took a seat on the chair opposite him and offered a seal parchment to him.
Richmond's eyes scanned the paper before his lips curled up in a content smile, "So I see Durand got the position. That makes our job easier," He said, pleased.
Ever since Mott's death many lower ranking nobles rose up in order to try and claim his old position. The position was of no concern to him given his own place in the aristocracy but who else would be in a better position to smuggle letters and sabotage orders than the Imperial Messenger himself? Mott's death was unprecedented but it led to an opportunity neither he or his benefactors could ignore.
"I owe whoever killed Mott some words of thanks," He muttered to himself. His importance in Reconquista rose after the messenger's demise. For all the arguments they nobility had regarding Mott and his...experiments, it was ultimately up to him who had the final say on whether an investigation would be conducted or if Mott was a heretic who deserved no mercy. Reconquista promised his wealth and an even better position if he delayed the investigation and helped get their own sympathizer the position.
He cared little for the rantings and ravings of a lunatic, but Mott always was a thorn on their side. Despite his insanity and heresy he was loyal to the royal family, though he suspected that it was because they were too fractured to properly catch on to his experiments than any true sense of duty and belief. Many orders and bribes that should have been given to nobles were never sent through since he'd caught on to their tactics and he'd hindered letter communications to the agents they had in Tristain. His death was a blessing, unplanned as it was.
"Durand asks what should be done with the notes," 'Sparrow' said. The books Mott had used had fallen under his jurisdiction and now that the investigation had been officially closed they were by the word of law his, although he found little desire to even open one of the books for fear of being infected with the same insanity that had taken the former noble.
"Just sell them to someone in Gallia. There are always fools looking to try and make themselves more powerful and they'll pay a lot to get any aid they can," He doubted anyone could even use them. According to the translators who had investigated the books they were in a language that was neither from Halkeginia or even from the Elves of the desert.
Still, some fool would pay for them once they heard that it might give them a chance at immortality.
Richmond chuckled to himself. He didn't know which fool had killed him, but given the death of all the guards and the empty cells in the basement it was likely a deluded noble who had hired a bunch of mercenaries to try and 'rescue' the people there and make themselves look out to be heroes. A noble sentiment, but ultimately foolish given that killing a noble was still a crime and they undoubtedly would've been executed if they chose to take credit for the deed. They should count themselves lucky his death coincided with the goals of Tristain's future rulers.
There were even claims from the servants that it was a single individual who had done all the killing, but he put it down as insane ramblings.
But in the end it was a victory for them. Now that Durand had the position Reconquista had little to fear about the possibility of their letters being intercepted and their agents and sympathizers found. The council had no idea how far Reconquista's influence reached and the ones who weren't influenced by propaganda and promises assumed that Germania's combined army would be enough to stave off the 'overconfident upstarts'.
"I shall take my leave," 'Sparrow' stood up and bowed respectfully, "I also carry a warning from Viscount Wardes: He urges you to be careful and make sure that you keep yourself safe. His eminence shall make his move soon and you are a valuable asset to his future endeavors."
"Of course I am. Leave now and make sure you don't stop for anything. I have to meet with our soon to be Queen anyway," He scoffed. The brat couldn't be queen even if she tried, "Show yourself out and if anyone asks just tell them that you were a courier sent to deliver a package."
"I must deliver another message to Sir. Renault," Ah, now there was a name that he recognized. Sir. Renault Dominique, the new taskmaster of those two Vampires and Brimir only knew what else. Those things were abominations, as was all the other Firstborns - Nothing but parasites and heretics whose only response to should have been complete and utter annihilation.
Once Cromwell ruled he would likely put the twin sub-humans to death, as was proper.
"I suppose it's about more payments and orders," He commented offhandedly. He knew about the thief's escape and he'd been told beforehand by Wardes that their mission was under Reconquista's orders, but they had to make it appear that they tried to stop them. Renault was loyal to them but not all aware of the palace's secrets were and sending the two of them to fail was a gamble at best but it had ultimately paid off.
From what he'd heard they'd gotten rather close to stopping them despite their lack of info and the limitations Renault gave them. Impressive, but it was to be expected given their monstrous heritage. He had no idea what King Phillip III was thinking when he signed them up to serve Tristain.
"Yes," With a final nod the messenger left the room as quietly as he entered it. Richmond waited for but a moment before he also stood up, removing the silence spell from the room as he went. Now he had to put on a smile and act like the proud noble seeing the soon-to-be-bride, likely with comments about how she grew up so fast and other such platitudes.
"Feh," He scoffed again and took a final sip of his wine. In two weeks time Reconquista would attack and all this sneaking and stabbing in the dark would end. It was only a matter of time before the time of the royal family ended.
Excitement also permeated the air of Tristain Magical Academy. Whether they be student or teacher, all were excited for the upcoming wedding with many either making plans to either attend the wedding itself or use the break they would get as a chance to either stay and relax or go back to their familial homes in order to visit family. Once this week of classes ended they would be free of their studies, at least for a while.
The servants were also planning their own trips; the princess' upcoming wedding meant that many of them would be given breaks from work and for the constantly working personnel the well-deserved break was a relief for them. Many of them were already making plans to go back to their hometowns to see their families again or barring that going to the capital to enjoy themselves until their duties called for them again.
Beyond that there were also male students bragging and vowing to be the next head of the Griffon Corps. Wardes' betrayal had been made public and, compounded with Guiche's bragging about his 'secret mission' on Albion, many of the males were now under the delusion that they could all become Tristain's heroes and/or trusted agents overnight. After all, if an idiot like Guiche could do a mission why not the rest of them?
Already there were rumors that Tristain would declare war on Albion and many of the boys were imagining what would happen. Most of the time their imaginations led to them being placed in command of a mighty army and leading the charge against the traitors in the name of the royal family and the deceased Tudor line, and in some audacious cases some even imagined that the princess would declare their love for them and they would become the next king of Tristain.
Louise personally thought they had to be mentally ill to think that.
Things also returned to normal for Louise. Unlike Guiche she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut and after having a little 'talk' with Guiche (which ended with the boy coming out of his room with torn clothes and injuries that looked to have originated from a whip) the foppish teen also stopped bragging about Newcastle to anyone who cared to hear him.
"Rrrgh, this is difficult..."
Just because things returned to normal, however, didn't mean that things would become easy. The princess had chosen her to be the one to make the edict of congratulations and so far she was having no luck with formulating even the first verse on what was supposed to be a decent length speech. At this rate she would end up saying nothing but 'congratulations' when the royal wedding came.
Raziel opened his right eye and caught sight of his master scowling and chewing on her lower lip, her grip on the small book tightening as she continued to look troubled. Ignoring her mumbling he turned to the left and let out a relieved breath as he felt the grass tickle his skin. He much preferred sleeping on the ground compared to the bed that he swore tried to eat him every time he laid down.
"This is relaxing, isn't it?" Derflinger clicked, rising up from his scabbard. Both of them ignored him, "Hey come on, why are you two so quiet? Its been a week since you two finished that mission and all you're doing is sitting in this damn field like a couple of slugs."
"I have to write the edict," Louise replied, not taking her eyes of the book even though the pages of it were blank and sorely lacking in content.
"..." Raziel said nothing, continuing to stare at the empty field with one eye closed.
Despite the silence between the two of them Derflinger could tell that their relationship had improved, if only slightly. Louise had at least bought Raziel some armor and a shield, even though both of them were made of low quality leather. The blacksmith had excused it by stating that many warriors and mercenaries had bought most of his supply, likely in preparation for what they considered to be the inevitable battle between Tristain and Albion. Even if there was no war the high merchant traffic meant that most of the items were offered at a discount, at least until the wedding was over.
"The Germanian Emperor is...kind...and his appearance belies his...strength and..." Louise shook her head and closed the book with a loud snap, resisting the urge to shout out a stream of profanity. This was hard! How in the void was she supposed to write an edict when the marriage was essentially her best friend being forced to marry a war-hungry pig who wasn't above killing his own family in order to get what he wanted!?
With a huff she placed the book on her lap and leaned back on the tree, her eyes drifting over to her resting Familiar. Contrary to her expectations he had stuck close to her and barring class time or eating he tended to stay by her side. It was odd, but she found it comforting in a way. Usually he would scamper off to look for that maid or whatever else he did.
"Are you still bleeding?" She asked out of the blue. She saw him turn his head slightly to meet her gaze before he nodded silently, "Do you know what's going on now? Or did you remember something new that might give you any idea on what's happening?"
"I am still unaware of what is happening," He sat up and rested against the tree right next to her, "The blood does not seem to flow. My heart does not beat and I lose a finite amount of blood in the injury," He stretched his left hand straight and clenched his fist, "Regardless it seems that I do not need the blood to function. I injured myself and drained the blood from my arm and I could move it even after all of the blood left it."
"Are you sure injuring yourself is a good idea?" She asked warily. He knew what she was referring to: Would injuring himself lead him to Hollowing faster? In all likelihood yes, but it was inevitable anyway and shallow cuts wouldn't significantly contribute to his Hollowing.
"Perhaps not," He shrugged, "You remember that the blood seems to renew itself?" She nodded. He had placed a shallow cut on his chest and the blood flowed from it as well despite the fact that he had been drained dry on the way back to Tristain. Whatever was happening it seemed that the blood renewed itself whenever it ran out and that he didn't need said blood to function, which made both of them wonder why exactly he was filled with the crimson liquid now.
She placed a hand against his cheek, "Your skin's still cold," She remarked. That was another mystery they were contending with. Despite the blood no doubt filling his body his skin retained the clammy chill he'd had since the day he came here. He did his best not to think about it - It was likely just a small abnormality that would pass once more time passed.
Louise had suggested that his infatuation with the queen was also an abnormality that would pass, but he disagreed with her on that. Even thinking about her led him to feeling uncomfortable. She made a mental note to keep him away from her at all costs. The last thing the queen needed as a lovesick Undead with a tail obsession.
A crowd of students passed by not too far from them and Louise twitched as she saw some of the younger students point and giggle something to themselves before they walked away in a rush. She knew what they were talking about - They were whispering to themselves about how pathetic she was because her only companion was her Golem.
Oh yes, her peers had changed their opinion of her Familiar. Whereas before many had assumed he was a theater performer that was somehow well-versed in combat now he was a humanoid Golem that her family gave her in order not to shame her. Golems capable of acting like people were rare but with enough earthstones and magical charms it was quite possible for Golems to mimic people, although even those were only capable of following a set amount of preset instructions. To them it must have looked as if she was using her 'golem' to reduce her loneliness.
Nevermind the fact that he had blatantly disobeyed her order not to fight against Guiche, or that he talked to the maid without simply relaying a message from her, or the fact that he was bandaged up with all the others after Fouquet's attack on the school. It was pretty much a fact to them that Raziel was nothing but a construct that did Louise's bidding, although she was sorely tempted to point out the idea that if her family really wanted to not shame her they would have sent her an actual animal rather than a human being.
She'd just given up on trying to change their mind. Next thing she knew they would say she was using him as an outlet of sexual frustration. With a tired sigh she opened the book once again and stared at the blank pages, praying to Brimir above that she could make an edict without a single world insulting Abrecht III or revealing her feelings of distaste about the state of events.
"Why can you not make the edict?" He leaned closer to her and looked at the blank pages, "...This book is blank."
Their close proximity would have raised a few eyebrows and not too long ago Louise likely would have pushed him off for being too close to her. While she still felt somewhat wary around him she'd learned by now that the concept of romance and even lust seemed to be alien to him, odd infatuation with her best friend's mother and odd tail cutting obsession aside.
"It's not the book," She scooted closer to him and pointed out the white page, "Headmaster Osmond told me that the book is ceremonial and that I'd have to read it when I'm making the speech," She frowned, "But I just can't get the right words to flow. Whenever I try I always imagine how Princess Henrietta must be feeling and then...I don't know, I just can't concentrate."
"Huh?" He tilted his head to the side, confused. Louise dryly thought that it made him look like a confused puppy.
"It means I can't make a speech without putting in some kind of insult to Albrecht III," She answered wearily.
"The answer is simple."
"Really? What?" She questioned, though she doubted he would give her a satisfactory answer. After hearing his tale of Lordran and being given a general idea of his adventures and the people he'd met she couldn't find it in herself to blame him for his odd mindset. Anybody would have a weird way of thinking if their closest friends was a warrior who worshiped the sun or a man who left his daughter to try and look for adventure despite inadequate preparation.
"Lie," She waited for him to continue but he said nothing more.
"Lie? I couldn't do that!" She refused vehemently, "Princess Henrietta is counting on me for an inspired edict and I want to give her one that's genuine..." It was too bad she hated Germania and everything it stood for, "B-Besides, lying isn't as easy as you make it out to be. I bet you couldn't think of an elaborate lie even if I told you to."
"...Master is a kind, beautiful and gentle girl and I praise the sun everyday that I have been given the honor to serve her," He announced flatly. Louise raised an eyebrow - That seemed rather obvious, but why was he saying it right now? "Her kindness is known throughout the land and princes begged for her hand in marriage, bowing and offering all that they could so that they could prove themselves. Everyone respected her and all everyone wished was that they could one day prove themselves worthy of of being the in the presence of her greatness."
"Well, I wouldn't say that I'm...Hey, was that a lie!?" She yelled. Raziel's slight smile was all the answer she needed, "Oh yes, very amusing," She rolled her eyes, "Well I can't just lie and praise Albrecht III, it just...wouldn't seem right..." She put her knees to her chest and blinked as a wave of fatigue washed over her. She'd been thinking too much on this.
"I'm tired~" A yawn escaped her lips and she rubbed her eyes tiredly; Raziel said nothing as she placed her head against his shoulders and used it as a makeshift pillow. The heat of the sun was bearing down on them and she found the cold of his skin oddly comforting.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, carefully making sure his shoulder didn't move lest it disturb her.
"I haven't been sleeping well lately," She admitted, another yawn escaping her, "I keep thinking about what happened in Newcastle and while everybody's celebrating all I can feel is dread," She closed her eyes, "Princess Henrietta just had her lover killed and in three weeks she has to marry that cruel barbarian. After that she'll have to deal with the council of nobles arguing on what to do about Reconquista."
Being a princess seemed much more difficult in this land than it did in Lordran.
"..." Raziel looked up and stared at the all-encompassing blue sky. He could feel his masters breathing slow down and soon she was sleeping, the prayer book falling from her lap and onto the grassy field. He looked down at her and smiled softly again - It may have just just been the fatigue affecting her judgement but the fact that she was comfortable enough that she could sleep despite their close proximity implied that she could trust him.
He yawned and closed his eyes as well. With any luck he wouldn't receive any more horrible dreams.
"Abyss take me!" Raziel ran up the stairs of the circular tower, footsteps following behind him closely with every step he took. He didn't dare look behind him, he couldn't risk it, "...Flames," He cursed again as her footsteps neared. Ignoring the weight of the leather he spurred himself forward all while reigning in the temptation of dropping Derflinger or strip out of his armor in order to lighten his load.
His pursuer was relentless, determined and, most worrying of all, one that he could not fight. He'd faced dragons, he'd fought hundreds of his fellow Undead and he burned in the Kiln. And despite all that he paled at the thought of fighting against her. She was a foe he could not defeat.
Siesta.
"Raziel, please wait!" Siesta panted as her friend continued to run up, her pleas falling on deaf ears. She stopped briefly and panted which Raziel took as a chance to increase the distance between the two of them. Sucking in her fatigue she ran up the stairway again,
"Hey partner, what the hell is going on?" Derflinger called out. Raziel ignored him as well and continued facing forward, determinedly making sure not to let his gaze falter. He couldn't talk to Siesta right now, not yet. He didn't know how to explain what had happened a week prior and he didn't know if he could face her right now while he had tried to feed on her not too long ago. He didn't know what he would do if he saw her as 'food' again.
He had gotten careless. He hadn't met Siesta for the past week and he made sure to stick close to his master and stay in her room during nighttime to ensure that it had stayed that way. He shouldn't have slept; he had let his guard down and he barely woke up in time to start running from her, although she had defied his expectations and actually chased after him.
It had been half an hour since the chase started and he could tell she was starting to feel the strain. While Undead could be fatigued like any other creature they recovered from physical strain far quicker than the average person. So long as he didn't let his stamina drain completely and go over his limit he could consistently keep ahead of her, although
"Why are you running!?" Siesta called out again, her face going red as sweat dripped down her face from the strain of trying to not lose sight of him. The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that at some point the stairs would stop and she could explain that he didn't care about what he did. She knew what it looked like but whether that was his intention or not she didn't want him to avoid her because of it.
"I will explain later," He finally called back, hoping that it would force her to stop.
It didn't.
Their little routine continued for a bit until Raziel reached the top of the stairs, "Damn," Right, he had forgotten that towers eventually ended. He took a furtive glance behind him before he entered the wooden doorway and slammed it shut, making sure to lock it behind him. It would stop her unless she suddenly revealed she had a giant pet boar in her possession that could break down doorways.
"Raziel, open this door!" She rapped her knuckles against the worn doorway, "I just want to talk to you! You trust me, don't you?"
Raziel winced at the question. Guilt rose up within him; whether she knew it or not the echo caused him no small amount of discomfort. She trusted him and he'd nearly killed her, all to keep himself going. It was hypocritical of him to act so nonchalant about Hollowing when, in the end, he still hungered for Humanity like the rest of his fellow Undead. He could imagine Lautrec laughing at him right now.
"Yes, I trust you..." He closed his eyes and sat against the door, mimicking a pant of exhaustion. He wanted to explain it all to her, to tell her everything: About his Undeath, about his actions, about what truly happened at the Count's Estate. He wanted to tell her everything, but he was afraid of how she would react to it all. Even if he'd saved her it would have mattered little if he confessed that he had nearly killed her out of hunger and desperation.
"L-Look, Raziel, we don't have to be in the same room. I just want to talk to you, okay?" He didn't reply. Siesta took it as a cue and sat with her back against the door as well, "Um...well, how do I start?" Should she say that she understood? Or maybe that they should forget that it ever happened and keep going like always? He was obviously distressed and she didn't want to push him.
"...I do not know," He said after a moment of silence.
"Alright then, lets just...talk about something else," She suggested uneasily. She wanted to talk about it now but she was willing to wait till he was less panicked, "Like...o-oh, how about the upcoming holidays!" She smiled, though he couldn't see it, "I'm going back to visit my family back in Tarbes. A friend of the family is getting married and I also wanted to pay my respects to Elder Linda. She passed away not too long ago and I want to visit her grave since she took care of all of us in the village for so long."
"You are going back to your village?" He asked back curiously, his mood lightening. Talking to her was always calming in a way, "Louise is making an edict for the wedding of the princess and she intends to stay here in the academy until she accomplishes this. I am
Louise? That was oddly casual of him considering the way they treated one another. She shook her head and tried not to think about it, "Then why don't you come with me?" She suggested, "It'll only be until the princess' wedding and I'm sure if you ask Miss. Valliere she'll allow you to go have some free time. There shouldn't be any danger in the academy and since there are no classes she has no need to send you out for reagents."
"...I will think about it," He answered. A part of him wanted to go and Louise would've likely given him permission if he asked her given the state of things now, but he still felt wary of spending too much time with her, "Siesta...I-"
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," She interjected, "You asked me if I trust you and the answer hasn't changed. Just tell me if you want to go to Tarbes, okay? We can talk there if you want. There's a field of white flowers I want to show you. I think you'll love it!" He could hear the energy in her voice and it caused his lips to quirk up ever so slightly.
"Thank you..." He didn't know what else to say.
"It's no problem," She said, "Listen, could you unlock the door? I'm going to get some fruits downstairs and I want to share it with you. And besides," A hint of mischief spread into her voice, "I've never been into this tower before. I heard that this is where they keep some magical artifacts that the school doesn't use anymore, so even if we look around I don't think they'd mind. I'll get the food and meet you back up here, okay?"
"Okay," He waited for her footsteps to fade before he stood up and, with a nod, unlocked the door, "Magical artifacts..." Now that he had taken a closer look at the room he could vaguely make out multiple objects and trinkets dotting the interior, most which were covered in either a thin sheet of dust or strips of cloth. Were these things defective? Or perhaps the magic powering them had disappeared?
One thing in particular garnered his attention. At the far end of the room was a tall structure, covered with a dull gray blanket and caked with dust. From the edges he could make out glass reflecting the dim interior of the tower. A magical mirror? He would have expected a magical painting, though he supposed that Priscilla's case was special.
Must be because of her luxuriously fluffy tail. That blue dragon's tail was different from Priscilla's magnificence, but he couldn't deny the fact that the blue appendage had its own merits. The skin of it was smooth and slippery, a far cry from the stony and scaly dragons he'd fought in Lordran. He licked his lips and continued to imagine what it would be like to touch it again, to feel his skin on hers. He'd only tangled with her briefly and yet the memory was still vivid in him. His cheeks reddened slightly and his head was filled with images of her cries, of her yells as he finally made things right and lopped the tail off.
But alas it was only a dream. But someday, there would be a time where she would let down her guard and then he would be there, watching and waiting for the right moment until he would cut it clean off. Oh yes, that day would come and he would relish the weapon he received.
Elsewhere, Sylphid felt a shiver course through her body.
"Haa..." Raziel closed his eyes and forcefully shook his head. There was no use daydreaming about it. He picked up Derflinger and walked towards the mirror, making sure to stop himself from breathing so that he wouldn't inhale the dust. As he stood in front of the mirror he reached a hand out and, swallowing his hesitation, he pulled down the drape covering the entire thing.
He was greeted by a monster. The mirror reflected the figure standing in front of it, but not in the way he had expected. Rather than pale skin or armor made of leather what he saw instead was a corpse, its skin reddened and emaciated covered in nothing but a few strips of cloth. He knew what it was: A Hollow, exactly the same in appearance to him when he was first in the Asylum.
"What..." He stepped back, the Hollow in the reflection mimicking his movements. His eyes darted around the mirror erratically. The mirror was obviously enchanted, but in what way? Could it see through illusions? Reflect the past? He had absolutely no idea.
The image in the mirror changed. The figure reflected was different, but no less monstrous than its predecessor. A body covered with rotted blue flesh with a stomach so receded that he could make out the bones of his ribs. He raised a hand and it followed, raising up a monstrous claw covered with the barest traces of metal. Around his chest and mouth he could make out a tattered brown cloak covering his upper body and torn flesh that appeared to be wings tracing down his backside.
"Argh!" A headache engulfed him, forcing him to close his eyes and fall onto his knees. He felt the small circle at the base of his neck flare and burn. Something was agitating the darksign.
Through the pain he could hear the sounds of something dropping, "Raziel...?"
"Siesta..." He forced his eyes open and looked behind him, trying to focus his dizzying vision. No, damn it! He didn't want her to see him like this. To see what he truly was underneath the illusion of Humanity he held. He grit his teeth and took hold of Derflinger. He would explain it to her, but not like this, "Don't look..." With shaking hands he raised the sword up before he swung down forcefully.
The sound of the mirror being shattered echoed all around the dusty room. Siesta flinched and stepped back as Raziel brought down Derflinger's rusted blade down on the mirror in a rage, swinging hatefully at the glass until there was little left.
It was only after his tenth swing that he stopped. He had destroyed the mirror, and yet whatever foul magic powering it had remained. Each individual shard continued to show his reflection, some of the Hollow in tattered clothing and others of the rotted monstrosity that he remembered only vaguely. He squeezed his left hand in frustration before he noticed that his hand had fallen on top of one of the larger shards.
He kept himself from screaming as the glass pierced through the leather gloves and his skin. Drops of blood fell coated the mirror and dripped down onto the floor, forming a small pool of the crimson liquid. He wanted to crush this thing, to destroy it utterly so that it couldn't remind him of how close he was to losing himself.
"Raziel, don't do that!" Siesta knelt down and pried the glass from his bloody hand, "You're bleeding! Oh Brimir, this isn't good. We-We need to stop the blood," She removed the apron of her uniform and pressed it against his left palm, "J-Just press this on your hand and make sure that the blood doesn't flow bleed out too much. You might feel faint but you have to stay awake."
"Stop..." Had she not seen the mirror? The monstrous reflection that it showed? Why did she continue to act as if it didn't happen.
"No!" She shook her head, "Just-Just wait here and I'll go get some bandages. Okay? You shouldn't move in your condition. I'll be right back." She stood up in a hurry and rushed down the stairs. The clinic was rather far from the tower and she needed to run if she didn't want him to bleed out.
Raziel watched her go blankly, the white apron still pressed onto his palm. He took a couple of breaths before he pried the cloth off, wincing slightly at the fleshy sounds of the damaged skin being agitated.
The cut was bad, but at the end it wouldn't kill him. He squeezed his fist, ignoring the pain flaring up on his left palm. The blood had stopped flowing, as he'd told Louise some time ago. The wound would heal within a few days but he suspected that Louise would make him cover it up with a bandage regardless.
He couldn't stay here. Siesta had seen it, there was no doubt about that. He needed to distance himself from her, at least for a while until he could explain what had happened. He wanted to yell, to curse out whatever God remained for the way fate seemed to toy with him.
With one last look at the shattered mirror, he forced himself to stand and leave the tower.
Another week had passed and very little changed - His master was no closer to finishing her prized edict and he was no closer to finding a way to explain what had happened to Siesta. It wasn't as if she was avoiding him; in fact it was the other way around since whenever they passed one another she would try to catch his attention and he would immediately turn around and go somewhere that she couldn't follow him to. Frequently it was either Louise's room or other facilities that females couldn't enter.
"Simply amazing!" Colbert yelled energetically at what Raziel assumed to be the third time in this hour alone, "You say this land of 'Izalith' had technology that used fire as a power source?"
And in the end he'd found himself here. Colbert had caught him at one point and told him that he still wished to know more about Pyromancy. He'd spent three consecutive days in the lab, either answering Colbert's queries or informing of Izalith and the various other pyromancies that had been developed in Lordran. He seemed oddly amused when he told him of the pyromancy that induced sweat (or in the case of Undead, artificial sweat).
"Yes, th-"
"That's amazing!" Colbert repeated, interrupting the Undead before he could finish, "This 'Witch of Izalith' must have been of a great mind! Oh, I would give anything to be able to meet someone like her! To think, another Fire Mage who used fire to build and benefit others rather than using it for war and destruction! Ah, she must have been a genius for her time!"
"She was...proud, that was certain," He didn't care how desperate the Witch of Izalith was: It was rather arrogant of her to think that she could make a copy of the First Flame when the source of her powers as a Lord originated from a simple portion of the Flame she hoped to copy. All her efforts amounted to was turning her daughters (and son) insane with Chaos and transforming herself into a monster that killed numerous Undead by virtue of a really horrible floor.
"Well I think she had the right to be," Colbert put down the beaker he held and smiled in a daze, "All my life my colleagues always assumed that fire had no use for anything beyond burning people to death, as a tool of war," His smile faltered slightly, "And yet you say this woman and her daughters established a city based on the opposite of those principles, a mecca of culture and progress! Oh I wish I could visit your land!"
"You do not...trust me..." Raziel answered slowly, "Izalith has long since been abandoned and it is nothing more than a husk. All of the technologies of legend are lost and all that is left are monsters and demons picking over the corpses..."
"Truly? That is a shame," He shook his head and frowned, "Still, the idea of a city such as that is very unbelievable," He sighed, "With the rumors of a war in Albion Fire Mages are becoming more and more valuable, but in the way that I would have hoped. They wish for every Fire Mage to use his skills to burn down crops or destroy villages that they suspect aid in Reconquista sympathizers. I wish we could use fire to help others, to make progress rather than burn down all that we've striven to work for."
"...Quelana would have liked you," He commented softly. Colbert continued to rant excitedly at him, either unaware of what he'd said or uncaring since he had no idea what he was talking about.
Raziel looked around the lab again. Even though he'd spent the past three days here he still marveled at how...different it was compared to the other facilities. While most of the offices he'd seen contained a few desks and an odd book or two, the decorations they contained usually amounted to paintings and expensive furniture that made him question how exactly they helped in teaching or doing their work.
By contrast Colbert's lab was messy and small, at least in comparison. Thick tomes and journals dotted the dusty bookcases and those that didn't cluttered both the tables and the floor, most of which were half-open and showing diagrams of experiments and theories that thankfully didn't include any signs of crystals in them. On the tables he could make out glasses of various shapes filled with many different colored liquids and all around him there were small models of what appeared to be inventions, although most of them were unfinished or only half-made.
It also had to be said that the lab was rather dirty and shabby looking. The floor had a thin layer of dust coating it and at different points in the room he could make out darkened spaces that looked like they had been hit with explosions. The professor often dissuaded the servants from cleaning ever since that one incident with the dragon's blood and seeing as he was reasonable they had conceded with the request. Colbert didn't really mind the dust, although he did often joke that it was a reason that he could never ask out anyone on a date and why he would never get married. He loved his experiments more than anything.
"Mmh, but there was such a commotion a few days ago," Colbert released a tired breath, "Someone broke the Liar's mirror in the storage tower. Headmaster Osmond doesn't really mind since it was already defective and the magic wasn't working as intended, but it's still a shame. I heard that it was a great artifact made in Germania many years ago."
"Hmm..." Raziel wasn't paying attention. He needed to think on what to do after this: The laundry had been washed and dried and Louise's room had been cleaned so he honestly had nothing else that needed to be done.
A click on the doorway signaled the arrival of another person. Raziel turned his gaze to the wooden door and blinked as he made out the familiar head of blue hair followed by the large wooden staff.
"Ah, Miss Tabitha! Come in, come in!" The professor waved her in energetically, "I was just talking with Mr. Raziel here about the land from which he came from. He's told me such fascinating things."
Tabitha leveled her gaze at him, silently asking him what he was doing here. At his shrug she decided to let it go and plop into the seat on the opposite end of the table where he sat. Granted it wasn't very far given the table's short length, but it was enough that the professor could continue his conversation with him unimpeded and without taking the risk of disturbing her. The bluenette opened the book she held and started to read through it, ignoring the two males in the room.
"Miss. Tabitha comes to stay here from time to time," Colbert answered before he could ask, "She has...circumstances," He coughed awkwardly, "She doesn't like talking about it with anyone except possibly Miss. Zerbst, but as a teacher I offered to help as best as I can. She won't talk to me about it but she still comes here every now and again to keep to herself. No one ever comes here, you see."
Tabitha gave no reaction to Colbert's explanation. She must not have cared that people knew she came here. He surmised that she must have found being here with the bumbling professor's presence to be calming even if she said nothing to him.
"Ah, but we're getting off-track," Colbert waved off the explanation, "I know it may be presumptuous of me to ask but could you show me this Pyromancy of yours once again? I would very much like to compare it to the magic of the average Fire Mage...oh, my apologies," He turned to Tabitha, "Miss. Tabitha, you are aware of his unique abilities, yes? If not I trust he wouldn't mind you finding out."
Colbert was one of the few who knew of his undeath, but he didn't exactly mind it if people knew about his pyromancy now. If anyone had a negative reaction he could simply lie and state the lie his master had told him.
"...Yes," She flipped another page, "Rub Al Khali..."
"Ah, yes, of course," The professor knew about the lie Miss. Valliere had made up, "Well then, Mr. Raziel. If you would?"
Raziel stuck out his right hand and with a quick mumble under his breath his entire palm was covered in a roaring orange flame rising a few inches from the appendage. Thankfully he'd put most of the fear of fire from the kiln behind him and now the pyromancy no longer burned his clothes like they did when the thief attacked the school. His master would have no doubt gotten angry at him if he destroyed his new armor.
"Fascinating! Simply fascinating!" Colbert stuck his head closer. Raziel pulled his hand back, making sure that the fire didn't burn the excited professor's skin, "Fire burns all that it touches and even the most adept Fire Mages risk harming themselves or the items in their possession when they cast spells. But here," He narrowed his eyes at the hand, "The leather has been covered in flame that is plain to see, but it remains undamaged."
"It would be very inconvenient otherwise," He pulled his hand and back and dispelled the fire. True to Colbert's words the leather and cloth in his palm remained undamaged save for a trace of residual warmth from the fire. Across the table Tabitha raised her head from the book and quirked an eyebrow upwards ever so slightly. The magic he had used was similar to the Spirit Magic she'd encountered.
"A controlled fire, capable of not harming objects," Colbert stood up and started writing something in a scrap of paper. Raziel looked to Tabitha, who gave him an unhelpful shrug before turning back to her book. Already he could hear the balding teacher muttering excitedly to himself about new inventions and other such things now that he'd found out about a source of fire that could be controlled and limited in its spread.
"Mr. Raziel, I have another experiment if you will indulge me," He nodded, "Excellent, excellent. I want to examine your 'Pyromancy' closer and see some of the fundamental differences it has to our own magic."
He ran into another section of his workshop before coming back with a large beaker filled to the brim with a clear liquid, "I've filled this beaker with some water. Miss. Tabitha, could I ask for you help as well?" A tiny nod, "If possible I wish for you to cool this beaker with your Wind magic. Fire Magic is naturally weakened by water and even more so with it chilled."
Tabitha said nothing, only muttering incantation and waving her staff gently. Colbert felt the liquid in the beaker cool down to an ice cold temperature and he set it down gently, "Fire Magic draws from the fire around us but its strength lies in our own inner power. From what you've told me and from what I've seen from the 'Detect Magic' spell I cast the fire that powers your 'Pyromancy' comes from within and nowhere else."
"What is it you wish me to do?" Raziel asked.
"Place your hand inside the beaker and try to use your power while your hand is immersed in water," Colbert instructed, "Save for the most adept Fire Mages the presence of cooled water should make the spell weaker, but I wish to see if your power falls under the same limitations. Since you don't use a foci like Miss. Tabitha it'll be much easier to narrow down the results."
It seemed simple enough, "Understood," He removed the leather glove and dipped his hand in the water, "...Cold," He shivered slightly as he felt the water cover his skin. Whatever spell Tabitha had cast it had turned the water near-ice cold. Still, activating his Pyromancy should have been no problem. He placed power in his palm and-
The water exploded upwards with a loud pop. Raziel and Colbert flinched away as the now hot water hit against them in a quick burst. From her own place Tabitha had been spared from the 'attack', although it was only because she'd used the book as a 'shield' to block her face. She lowered the now wet piece of literature and Raziel swore that she was glaring at even though her expression hadn't changed at all.
Hmm, he'd have to hunt his prey while she wasn't around. She was dangerous.
Colbert's reaction was the opposite of Tabitha's, "It's warm..." He wiped the water from his face and glasses and...smiled? "Truly fascinating! Your Pyromancy seems to work as an instant heat reaction. Most Mages turn the air around them into heat and then mix it with their own power in order to turn it into a spell."
"Huh?" What in the abyss was he talking about?
"What I'm saying is that they're the same in elements, but their fundamental process and execution is night and day. The spells of a Fire Mage may be quick, but they're also gradual and the fire still spreads even after the spell is over," He pointed to Raziel's palm,' This 'Pyromancy' you use is different, more like a...burst or an explosion of some kind, a convergence of power if you will," His eyes narrowed, "And yet, once the fire has been cast the it does not harm you nor does it spread chaotically. A truly interesting contrast, is it not?"
"Hmm," Raziel didn't reply.
"The best I can describe it is a mix of order and chaos," The professor continued, "Fire Magic starts out orderly, but once the fire is released the Mage loses control of it. This 'Pyromancy' seems to be of the opposite spectrum: It starts out in a chaotic burst but then it becomes orderly and controlled to the point that you can control the fire's intensity and stop it from from spreading. Do you understand?"
"I suppose," It was fascinating, but he couldn't find it in himself to care right now given what had happened the past few weeks alone. His mind was far too clouded with recent events. He would have liked to talk to the professor before the trip to Albion.
"I must take note of this," He started writing on a tattered journal, pausing only to look at him briefly, "Mr. Raziel, if you find yourself with nothing to do then please don't hesitate to come here. I could use your help with some of my experiments and if you simply need respite or a place to read like Miss. Tabitha here then I certainly wouldn't mind the company. You're not my student but please tell me if you're having troubles. It's an adults duty to help those who have a bright future ahead of them."
"I understand..." Raziel nodded mutely. The offer was kind, but he couldn't imagine himself 'growing up' to a ripe old age and dying content. He'd serve Louise until his time was up and that was that - No more adventures, no more delusions of being a hero, just...living his unlife until the strain became too much and he was (hopefully) granted a quick death.
That and he considered himself an adult, in mentality if nothing else, so Colbert's offer technically didn't apply to him. Those years in the kiln had to count for something and at estimate he could deduce that he was at the very least older than the Fire Mage professor by a tiny margin.
Things became quiet after that, at least as far as Raziel and Tabitha were concerned. Colbert moved all around the lab, tinkering with his constructs or writing down notes on any blank piece of paper he could get his hands on, before he left the room with an "I have to test something!" as his goodbye. Tabitha continued to read silently and, not seeing any other way to pass the time, he picked up one of the open journals and started to read through it.
At least until he remembered that he couldn't read the language of this land. His lips turned into an annoyed smile and he flipped through another page filled with ever more complicated looking drawings and symbols; he couldn't even tell when one sentence ended and another began! He could understand the people here just fine and they seemed to speak back to him in his own language, so he didn't understand
"Read..?" Tabitha asked softly.
"No..." He shook his head and placed the book back onto the table. Tabitha looked at his troubled expression and briefly contemplated helping him before she disregarded the thought. Teaching someone the alphabet would take months if not years and she didn't have that kind of time on her hands. She considered Louise's Familiar an acquaintance and while she wasn't above helping him or his master when in danger she felt little reason to extend her help for every little thing that troubled them. He could live without reading a few books.
Raziel stood up to leave before he heard something bounding up the stairs, "Someone's coming..." Tabitha noticed as well. With a sigh she closed her book and stood up as well. She already had an idea on who it was.
"Tabitha, there you are!" The door slammed open and Kirche strode in confidently, Flame trailing behind her as silently as a large salamander could. Raziel could see that she held multiple pieces of worn parchment on her arms, "I've been looking all over for you! Geez, you always come here whenever you come back from that business with your family."
"Kyuru, kyuru," Flame growled and, with a speed one didn't expect from a salamander of his size, he charged over to Raziel and all but tackled him into the ground. Raziel fell onto his butt and let out a small noise as the
"Razi's here too, huh? Maybe he can come along too," Kirche said.
"Come along to what?" Raziel asked. Flame tore off the glove on his right hand and started licking at the exposed skin and even biting 'playfully' at times. Of course since salamanders didn't know how to play-bite he ended up chewing on his skin hard enough that he would have gotten bruises if not for the fact that his outer skin was mostly an illusion.
He was thankful for that at least. He didn't want to bleed on the salamander's mouth.
"A treasure hunt!" Kirche announced happily.
"..." He had nothing to say. Off to the side he could see Tabitha sweat ever so slightly and move closer towards the window. She didn't want to go on a treasure hunt, that much was obvious. If she could make it
"Hey, stop right there," Tabitha winced as Kirche grabbed her and pulled her into a close hug, "We're doing this for you, you know! You've been even more quiet than usual ever since you did whatever you did and a treasure hunt will be the perfect thing to cheer you up."
"Truly?" She had her doubts on that. While Kirche was a close friend, she knew enough about her that she knew her relationship with her parents wasn't exactly the best and at times she seemed to enjoy making them angry. Cheering her up (not that she needed it) might have been one of the reasons, but leaving school before the brake officially started would have been just the thing to make her parents boil with anger.
That and the thrill of adventure. She may have appreciated all the attention she received from her male peers but she also enjoyed a good challenge every now and then.
"Yes, truly," Kirche replied, "Come on, it'll be fun! You and Razi here can go with us so we'll have a group of four. It must be better than sitting here till that wedding takes place."
"Four?" Raziel asked. Was Flame given a choice as to whether he would come along or not? If so then that would make it six if they counted Familiar's since since his prey would no doubt join her master as well.
"Yeah, Guiche's coming along too," She said dismissively.
"Why...?" He had to wonder why the Gramont would decide to go on another adventure when he spent a lot of the trip back complaining and promising that he would stay in the academy. Was he that hungry for excitement? Speaking of which, he never gave back the crystal sword he had lent him on the castle. He didn't really mind since he didn't use it all that much and it was irreparable, making its longevity questionable at best.
"He let whatever you and Valliere did in Albion get to his head. Didn't you hear him? He wouldn't shut up about being the princess' knight in shining armor until Valliere shut him up," She sighed, "A few girls actually became curious about what he was talking about and he started flirting with him again. Now Montmorency won't talk to him and he's piggybacking here because he's hoping he can find a ring or a necklace that he can use to make it up to her. I don't really think he'll succeed but the more the merrier and he can make good golems, so I'm not really complaining.
He just hoped they wouldn't have to fight any more people for Guiche's sake. Still he found his palm pressing against his face as he gave a disapproving shake of the head. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought of the glory-seeker as being worse than Lautrec. The strain of being in the kiln must have affected him in his early days here; that was the only explanation he had of comparing the bumbling noble to the servant of Fina.
"So what do you two say? Tabitha, you have nothing to do so you're not gonna lose anything," She turned to the sitting Familiar, "Raziel I already talked to Valliere and she's busy with that little book of hers so I doubt she'll care if you're gone for a few days.
"...I was hoping to go to Tarbes...with Siesta..." He half-lied. When he'd returned to his room he had asked Louise for permission to go with Siesta to Tarbes and despite his expectations she'd told him that he was free to go wherever he wanted so long as he was back by the time of the princess' wedding. He didn't even know why he asked - He certainly didn't think he could go with Siesta now given what had happened a week prior and given the way he had avoided her he doubted that he could go to Tarbes with her even if he did have Louise's permission.
She was leaving tomorrow and he didn't even know if he could say goodbye. Ah well, he'd see her when she came back and by then he hopefully might have an explanation for her.
"Tarbes? That's perfect then!" Raziel blinked in confusion. How was it perfect? "We're going to stop at Tarbes anyway. One of the treasures is listed as being on a small village by that name," She shuffled the maps and opened the one she needed, "Ah, here it is. Says here that the treasure is called the 'Dragon Guardian' or some such," She shrugged, "Details are scarce but if I have to guess it's some kind of valuable statue or an enchanted weapon or armor."
"Um..." Their goals did coincide, but he still didn't know whether
"Aw come on, just come with us!" Kirche persuaded, "Look you can even bring your maid friend with you. The more the merrier and it might be more exciting for her since the trip from here to that village will take a few days. The ruins are on the way so why not? You're not gonna lose anything for it and you've proven yourself to be a good enough fighter so a few orcs and goblins shouldn't be trouble."
"...I will have to think about it," Raziel replied. He pushed the salamander off him and left the room. He needed to think.
When he'd opened the door to Louise's room he'd caught sight of her running between her closet and a small pack, alternating between stuffing clothes and undergarments into the pack and taking them out when they'd proved too large for the container to hold.
"Master...what is happening?" He asked, temporarily reverting to his old way of calling her. It was still early in the night and he couldn't imagine she was given another mission so soon after what had just happened.
"I have to go to the palace," She ran back to her wardrobe and deposited an exceptionally puffy dress, "I sent a letter to the princess that I was having difficulties and she invited me to stay at the palace so that I could confer with her on what the edict could be about. While I'm there I'll also be able to help her with the wedding preparations and since I'm officially the bridesmaid."
"Let us go then-"
"I'm going by myself," She placed a hand on his chest when he walked towards her closet, "This isn't just because I want to help. Henrietta's my friend and after this...well, I'm not sure if I can talk to her after this. This might be my last chance to talk to her and she needs someone to confide in about what happened to Albion."
"I do not see why that means I should not come."
"I just want to be alone, okay?" She frowned, "We'll have two weeks together and all of that time will be spent on preparing her for that damned marriage. I don't like it, but it has to be done in order for Tristain to have a chance of defending itself against Reconquista. They attacked Newcastle early despite giving their word so I don't trust them to keep their word on this fake truce of theirs."
"...How long will you stay there?" He wasn't going to change her mind.
"Until the wedding starts," She replied, "You're going with that maid to her village, right? Just stay there and come back to the capital after two weeks if you want to attend the wedding and see the festival. If you don't then just come back to the Academy with her when she's called back for work," She brought her hand through her bangs and yawned, "I'll be leaving early tomorrow so I'm going to get some sleep. Don't wander out too late."
He watched her pack her clothing and make her preparations silently. As soon as her eyes drifted to sleep he stood up and made his way to the door. He needed to see Siesta and ask her about how she felt about treasure hunting.
"Raziel!"
Well, that was convenient. As soon as he had opened the door he saw Siesta. Her right fist was raised in the air and hanging awkwardly; was she going to knock on the door?
"Siesta..." He closed the door behind him. No need to let Louise hear their conversation, "..What are you doing here?"
"I-I was going to ask about whether you had permission to go with me tomorrow," She wrung her hands together nervously, "I know we haven't talked much since last week but I was hoping you still asked Ms. Valliere on whether you could go with me to Tarbes. I really want to go together with you..."
Raziel coughed and rubbed the back of his head, "Um...yes, she has given me permission," Her face instantly brightened at the answer. He continued, "Ah, but Kirche has invited both of us to go on some kind of treasure hunt. She said that we would arrive at your village and that the ruins are structures that we will pass on the way there. Is this okay?"
"As long as we go to Tarbes it's fine!" She nodded happily, a smile on her face. The two of them walked towards the female servant's dormitories. Raziel waited for her to say something about what had happened at the tower but she just...smiled and rambled on and on about what had happened to her the past week and how the head chef was inviting him to come eat with them in the kitchen again so he could properly thank him on what happened at the Count's estate.
He couldn't ignore it. He need to say something. He stopped walking and called out.
"Siesta...I will tell you what happened when we get to Tarbes...I promise..."
Siesta stopped walking as well, "It's alright if you don't want to tell me. Everyone has their own secrets, right?" She paused. He couldn't see her expression, "Whatever you think is happening to you it doesn't change my answer. I trust you and I know you have your reasons for what happened before. It's not as if it's the first time I've seen something odd happen with you."
Did she truly trust him or was her judgement clouded by gratitude for being saved from being turned into a Pisaca? He had no idea
"What do you mean?"
"When you were stabbed by Mr. Gramont's Valkyrie you didn't bleed and your wounds healed really fast even though the healers couldn't use healing magic on you," She said, "Hehe, you also mumble a lot when you're unfocused. When I bandaged you up before you muttered something about 'Lordran' and 'Oolacile'."
"...I did not notice," He answered back. He needed to keep his mouth shut next time.
"Like I said, everyone has their own secrets," She looked back to him and smiled, "You can tell me or you can keep quiet, it won't change what I think about you. But promise me that you won't run away and avoid me again, okay? Lola and the others wouldn't stop teasing me about what happened two weeks ago and I don't want us to stop talking to one another because of it."
"...I promise."
Siesta's face flushed crimson as Raziel's arms snaked around her shoulders and pulled her into a sudden hug. Despite the close contact the only thing she felt was a sudden chill. She didn't get the chance to contemplate the absence of warmth before he released her.
"Thanks...I'll tell you when we get to Tarbes. And...I'm sorry for leaving your apron in the tower."
Raziel didn't give her a chance to reply before he turned and ran back towards Louise's bedroom. He had to prepare himself for a treasure hunt.
This chapter came out look pretty bad for me. I dunno, hopefully I can balance the next chapter/s since the view shifts between Raziel in Tarbes and Louise in the palace. I have a hard time writing Kirche and Siesta since their canon personalities make it hard to imagine them in fanon scenarios. Louise, Tabitha and Colbert are much easier to work with.
I also need to stop making Raziel angst so much. While he's not cutting himself and singing songs about death his POV tends to be much more melodramatic or depressing. I need to fix that by the next chapter, which will hopefully be easier since we have a treasure hunting party on one side and a pair of childhood friends in another.
Same deal as before: Answer questions and comments.
AnubisGundam0 - Which goddess would that be?
Guest 1 - I already watched all the Prepare to Cry vids and I'm doing my best to be canon compatible. I have to take the ZNT stuff into account as well since this is a crossover fic and not a pure DS story.
Primal Chaos - I stated before I'm not using the Dream Cycle since it's a Fate Stay Night element and Authors oftentimes have no reason for using it beyond "Well, Hill of Swords had it!". Raziel gave Louise a general idea of what happened but her mind doesn't get warped or broken because she never actually sees it or experiences it firsthand.
Guest 2 - Catalyst does not equal Wands unless the latter is modified like Mott's. Also while he can use them it's not so easy to teach them. Even if he knows every Pyromancy under the sun he doesn't remember all the teachings so clearly that he can share it with others. Unlike the other NPC's Raziel used souls to brute force his way past learning them from the ground up and given that he's the only Lordran!Undead shown so far it's likely no one else can copy the way he did it. He's not a pure pyromancer, cleric or sorcerer so, story-wise at least, he's incapable of sharing and his spells aren't as good as the NPC's he encountered.
And yes as far as he knows he respawns at a bonfire. The one at Mott's Estate was destroyed, not rendered inactive. Given that he has no idea where the nearest bonfire is and he has no clue how to navigate Halk both he and Louise are avoiding him getting offed.
JagerIV - No idea why ;) It might be because it's not meant to be taken seriously so it's easy to laugh at or read twice.
the man 123 - Raziel can't have sex as of this chapter, so that's right out. That and romance really isn't a priority compared to reaching an understanding between the characters.
Krulla Chief - What would be the point? Watch any walkthrough/playthrough and take note of the death scenes there. Raziel was based on the average player and he died the same way an average player did. And no, the bed thing was him hating sleeping on Louise's bed because it was too soft. He's used to sleeping or resting on dirt, wood and metal. Thanks anyway; I don't really have a muse though. I don't have a proofreader and the only story spoilers I ask for help from are from another couple of authors. It explains why the quality of content is oftentimes dodgy.
bakkasama - Thanks :D The fight scenes are mostly because of being a bad writer and another because Dark Souls doesn't glorify fights with mobs and even some bosses in general. The average DS player thinks less of how epic the fight is and more on how they can get through it quickly without wasting too many supplies and Estus. Julio's fight scene was also hard to write since fights with more than two people in the field tend to be hard. It's difficult to get the feeling of dynamic movement and reaction.