Well here's the promised filler arc, though it probably won't be too long. Just a heads up but the shifting viewpoints aren't acting concurrently for the most part, so the time they take place can range from before, during or after the Saxe-Gotha attack. As stated before the chapter might fall under re-writes depending on reader reaction to the events herein.
Let's start.
Fouquet shivered as the cold Albion air rushed through her. With a tired breath she looked up at the dark sky and rubbed her hands together to try and dispel the cold. She somewhat regretted coming out of here in her rush but it was too late to go back now. It was hard enough convincing them to trust her to leave without sending another pair of expendable lemmings to trail her. She didn't want to risk them changing their mind if she decided to take too long to leave.
In hindsight she should have prepared more than a cloak and maybe bought a horse, but she didn't exactly have time to prepare nor was she the most financially well-off currently. Any money she had on her right had to go to Tiffi and the kids; a little discomfort and fatigue from the cold and walking was worth it if it meant that she didn't waste money that could be used for other, more important things.
"Haaaaa..." She released another cold breath and looked at the sky again. It was strange. Despite being much higher up compared to Tristain and the other nations the sky still looked the same; same clouds, same stars, same two moons. She tightened the cloak's place around her upper body and smiled slightly. No matter how horrible things became some things would never change, and it comforted her to know that at least.
"There it is," Speaking of things never changing, this place was another that comforted her in its continuous presence. Through the darkness she could make out a village, though calling it that might not have been the most accurate. The largest building in the 'village' was a decently-sized cottage that could fit at least a few people inside. Apart from that however the rest of the 'houses' were makeshift or cobbled together at best, though they could still protect from the elements provided a storm didn't suddenly hit.
As she drew closer to the gathering she turned around and summoned a crude golem before directing it to stand close to the tree. Normally golems were incapable of acting when the caster wasn't intensely focused on them but they could still be used as sentries. The gap between the trees was relatively narrow and given the construct's shoddy design and positioning anyone who didn't expect it to be there would likely topple it or brush against it. Anything disturbing it would be alert her on another presence.
Granted this wasn't exactly a foolproof plan. At most she would be alerted that something disturbed or destroyed her Golem, not what or who exactly had done it. It could be a bandit or mercenary looking for easy prey or it could be a deer that brushed past it with no intent of harming them. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, especially if someone from that damned group decided to follow her.
Her footsteps slowed as she looked at the windows of the cottage. She could see the dim flame of the lamp, but not much else. Was Tiffi still awake? It was already pretty late and usually she was asleep as soon as the moons were up. She looked back at the golem one last time before she slowly opened the door. Tiffi knew that she never knocked.
Fouquet entered and closed the door behind her quietly. Tiffania was sitting on the table and staring forlornly at a small instrument on the table. A harp, if she remembered correctly. The people of Halkeginia never really cared for it since it was of Elven origin, although there were still some plays and traveling troupes that entertained its use for the sake of its unique music. It was one of the few things she had left of her mother.
Her gaze shifted from the harp to Tiffania's ears and she frowned. Pointed ears, though slightly curved, peeked out from beneath her yellow hair. The sign of a union between an Elf and a human. Considered abominations by both Humans and Elves, 'half-breeds' like her could expect nothing but rejection and hatred from either side. It made her sick. She would never be able to find acceptance.
"Tiffi, I'm back," She did her best to sound nonchalant.
"Huh, B-Big sis?" Tiffania looked up from the instrument and her expression of melancholy was replaced with a smile, "Y-You're here!" She all but rushed over to the green haired woman and hugged her in relief, a gesture the older female returned, "I...I didn't know you would be back."
"It's a surprise to me too," She admitted half-truthfully, "My...job from before didn't work out so well, but I found a new employer," She pulled out the small pouch of coins, "They were...relatively generous," She coughed, "And it's stable work. Not quite the same as before but it's stable employment for now and I don't have to move around too much
"Your new workplace is here?" Tiffania asked, somewhat excited by the news.
"Yes, but I'm going to be busy," She didn't want her to get her hopes up too much. Whether Reconquista would win or lose she had no idea but she didn't want to promise her de-facto little sister too much and disappoint her when she couldn't follow through. She made that mistake in the past already.
"O-Oh, of course," Tiffania's ears drooped slightly. The older woman found it somewhat intriguing that her ears could reflect her mood so well.
"Come on now, don't start crying," She smiled lightly and gently nudged the girl back to the chair, "I should have a day or two of free time before I have to go back to work again and I don't want to spend it looking at a frowning face," She heard Tiffania giggle slightly. That was a good sign, "Besides, you always make the weirdest noises when you cry. It sounds like you're trying to sing and your voice is cracking."
"I...I'm sorry for disturbing you."
"That was a joke. Please stop taking everything so seriously," She sighed and ruffled her hands through the half-elf's long hair. She was used to her light teasing to be rebuked. She shook her head and suppressed a frown. Much as she hated to admit it she did miss Professor Colbert and Headmaster Osmond, quirks and all. The two were easy to talk to and she never had to watch her words around them.
She was lucky in a way; less reputable nobles often acted similar to the headmaster but they met rejection from those they considered lesser than them in a much more crude way than the headmaster's half-hearted apologies. With his position there was nothing truly stopping him from coercing her to lay herself bare before him if he really wanted it. The perverted old geezer probably did it more out of fun than anything else, though she had no doubt there was lecherous intent behind it. The few times she ignored him he often stopped and asked her if something was wrong. He wasn't as dumb and carefree as he acted, there was no doubt about that.
"H-Have you eaten yet, Big Sis?" Tiffania suddenly asked.
"Ah..no, actually I haven't. I was a bit busy with stuff and I didn't have time to eat anything," She doubted her younger sister wanted to find out what exactly she'd been doing the past few days.
"Oh, then please eat this!" She stood up abruptly and picked up a pot and bowl from the cupboard, "I made this earlier. It's a bit cold now, but it should still be alright!" She picked up a loaf of bread as well, "The others really liked it as well."
"Alright, thanks," Tiffania placed the meaty stew on the table along with the bread and sat across from her. With a smile she picked up the spoon and started eating the lukewarm meal. It still tasted relatively well despite it being no longer warm, "...What did you use to make this?" She asked curiously as she ate another spoonful. The mushrooms were simple enough to get but meat was a rarity considering neither her nor the kids liked killing animals regardless of the situation.
"Rodrick bought some venison with the others when they went into town," Her ears perked up, "There was a sale a few days ago because of something that happened with the royal family and they were able to buy a lot of meat and bread. I don't really know what happened but Rodrick said something about a new leader and new rules."
"So the kids are doing well?" She asked, changing the subject. She did not want to explain to Tiffania on what exactly was happening in Albion's upper society.
"Yes, they're very well!" Tiffania clapped her hands, "Ooh, you should have told us you were coming! I would have prepared more to eat and the kids would have wanted to see you! You rarely come over now and you never stay for long," Her ears suddenly drooped slightly.
"What's wrong?" She was suddenly feeling energized. She looked down at the stew again and nudged one of the mushroom on the brown stew. Their white coloring made them stick out compared to the other red and brown ingredients. Where did she get these? She'd been around the forest a decent amount of times and she never saw these before.
"...Rodrick's talking about leaving..." She admitted sadly. Fouquet raised an eyebrow slightly. The kid was barely eleven, why would he suddenly decide to leave? "It's not just him. Gregory, Matthias and some of the other younger ones are also thinking of leaving."
"Did they say why?" She was somewhat worried. The oldest among them was an eleven year old and if they left there was a good chance they'd be back on the streets begging for food and alms again. While it would no doubt make it easier to provide for those that stayed
"They said they saw a poster in town about joining the Albion army, I'm not really sure," She frowned and let out a soft breath, "I told them that they were too young but they said that a soldier told them they wouldn't have to fight. Just helping clean the armor and weapons or carrying stuff in for transportation. They promised me they'd come back and that they could earn money this way, but-"
"Don't let them sign up," Tiffania was surprised by the steely tone of her elder sister, "The nobility in Albion are killing each other and then turning their sights on Tristain. It doesn't involve us," She closed her eyes briefly, "If they go they'll be in danger. When tomorrow comes I want you to tell them that signing up for the army is never going to happen and that if they do so they're not welcome back here."
"Not welcome back? But-"
"If you can't do it, then I will," Tiffania looked down and placed her hands on her lap. Fouquet sighed and stood up before making his way behind her, placing her hands on Tiffania's shoulders lightly, "I'm sorry if you don't like it but you need to put your foot down if you want them to listen to you. They're getting to that age where they think they're right and everyone else is wrong. If you don't stop them from doing stupid things early it's only going to get worse."
"I...I know," She sniffed and forced a smile, "I don't like fighting and I don't want the children to see it either," She held Fouquet's hand softly, "They just want to stop feeling like burdens. They know you're the only one working for all of us and they don't like it. They...They just want to help," Her hold on the greenete's hand tightened, "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden to me. You never will be," She removed herself from Tiffania's hold and grabbed her hair gently before she started braiding it. It was a way for both of them to calm down, "I made the choice to be a family with you and there was nothing stopping me from just leaving," She smiled, "You and all those kids. I'll admit that it's hard but I don't regret a second of it."
"...You're a liar, Big sis" Tiffania giggled softly, "When I first brought Erika with me you yelled at us both and told me that we didn't have time to take care of others when we had our own problems. You only let her stay after I started crying and begging that she was my friend and that I didn't want to leave her out alone in the village again."
"Well, I was stressed at the time, okay?" She defended with a slight blush, "She didn't know you were an elf and I thought she would act badly. I guess I underestimated how easily kids can be swayed as long as you're nice to them," She rolled her eyes in amusement, "When you brought Rodrick back and I told you to leave him you did the exact same thing. I could never say no to you whenever you cried," She laughed slightly.
"Mother always told me to help people in need like father and her savior helped her before," She looked at the harp again and her eyes became unfocused, "It was lonely back then. Father was always so busy and mother would wait for him all day. After we finished lessons she would always become quiet and start playing the harp. She told me it was because she wanted to remember where she was born."
"It must have been hard for her to get used to living here," She'd heard this story before, but she always listened. Tiffania wanted to remember her parents and she always spoke of them fondly. Fouquet buried hers and moved on, but she understood that the young girl would have a harder time doing so considering they were essentially her entire world until their deaths. Her own parents were good people, but distant due to their responsibilities. She supposed that was why it was easier for her to not look back.
"Well, we're a family now, right?" Tiffania looked up at her and smiled, "You and everyone else. Even if mom and dad are dead we still have a family here and I'm not going to lose them again," She leaned into Fouquet's hands, "It's all because you decided to save me, Big sis. When those soldiers found me I thought I would die like mother did. Thank you again, for taking care of all of us."
"..." Fouquet's smile faltered slightly as she silently braided her hair. She loved Tiffania, and she cared for the others as well, but she wasn't deluded enough to imagine that it had always been that way. When she saw the half-elf girl her first instinct was to kill her due to the ingrained fear of the users of spirit magic and the second was to leave her to her own problems.
Her 'rescue' was an accident. She went after the soldiers that killed her family, uncaring as to whether she would die as a result: Her house and titles had been stripped from them and her family was callously taken from her on the orders of a tyrant. Rescuing Tiffania was a coincidence, one that she was glad for now that she was standing here now. It gave her a reason to keep going for reasons other than hatred against the nobility.
She traced her fingers across the pointed ears, tickling her younger sister slightly. These were the cause of her stigmatization. If she was born without the pointed appendages she could blend into society with no one any wiser. She'd thought of cutting them off in their early days together. It would be painful without a doubt, but disfigurement would have been preferable to being seen as an unholy abomination. The pain would be agonizing, but she would no longer be seen as a monster and no one would be any wiser.
The hands left the ears and encircled the neck. And as much as she hated to admit it, a part of her blamed Tiffania for their deaths. For everything that had happened. Her parents had no idea of her father's dark secret, he doubted any of families that had been killed did. When Tiffania first explained everything she felt an unimaginable hatred, the desire to take revenge on a little girl that had no idea what was happening. When she'd first fallen asleep she was tempted to choke her in her sleep, to take revenge on what she had perceived to be the cause of their deaths.
In the end, however, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Killing her wouldn't bring her parents back and it would just play into the hands of the tyrannical king who murdered everyone out of paranoia. She'd taken care of the girl not out of compassion and empathy but a silent insult to the king and the nobility, so that she could die knowing that even after all that death the decrepit tyrant wouldn't get what he wanted. To her Tiffania was once a means to and end, a way for her to defy the one who had killed her parents.
She slowly exhaled and hugged Tiffania from behind, causing the girl to jump slightly, "Big sis?" Fouquet didn't reply and instead tightened her hold on her sibling. She'd tried not to get attached to the girl at first, but that quickly proved to be a futile endeavor. Now she couldn't imagine what she would do if the half-elf was lost or put in danger.
"I'm really glad I saved you that day," She whispered, though she doubted she had heard her. Whether she knew it or not Fouquet needed Tiffania to keep going as much as she and the other kids needed her. No matter how much she had to go through with that group of power-hungry opportunists she could endure it so long as it kept Tiffania safe.
"..Sorry about that," Fouquet smiled again and went back to her casual tone of voice, "Must be more tired than I thought. I'll get some sleep." She let out a yawn and walked past the younger girl. The braid was a hairstyle Tiffania's mother wore, or at least that she'd told her. She never actually met the woman and she was pretty sure that by the time she'd rescued Tiffania her corpse was nothing but a smoking pile of meat.
"Ah, wait," She grabbed her hand, "Why-Why don't we sleep together again, like we did before? Its been a while since you were here and..." Her ears drooped down, "A-Actually, please forget about it, big sis-"
"Alright," Fouquet shrugged and laughed at the girl's surprised expression, "Come on, like you said its been a while and I'm not really picky about where I sleep."
She wanted to say that sleep came peacefully, but that would have been lie. While Tiffania surrendered to the lull of rest not long after closing her eyes Fouquet tossed and turned, alternating between staring at the darkness enveloping them or closing her eyes to try and force herself into a slumber. It was useless. Every time she tried her mind would think on other things.
How much longer could she last doing this? While she felt no love for the Tudors she certainly felt no affection for the new 'council' scheming to trick the masses that they were benevolent rulers. She knew for a fact that they weren't above hampering their own agents: The mercenaries she'd paid for had been used to slow down that Viscount, Wardes was his name if she remembered correctly. Wardes had also told her that the leader of Tristain's secret forces (if she could even call it that given the country's horrible track record in warfare) was under their employ, so those two damnable Vampires shouldn't have even known they existed. They were deliberately being hindered.
For what reason she had no idea, but at this point she didn't care. Maybe they had a gambit, maybe they wanted to separate the strong from the weak, or maybe they just found it amusing. Either way she worked better alone and she didn't relish being put under the servitude of people who treated her like an expendable pawn. They also paid crap; she could easily earn at least twice as much by going to rob a lower class noble, nevermind more influential families.
A sudden niggling feeling at the back of her head caused her to sit up. Someone had destroyed her Golem, "Shit," She stood up as quietly as she could and peered out of the window at the entrance, "Can't see anything..." She chewed on her lower lip. It might have just been another stray animal that passed through, but she couldn't take that risk given her new 'employers'.
She went back to the room and gently shook Tiffania awake. She needed to make sure she wouldn't wake up and check outside unaware, "Big sis, what's wrong?" Tiffania rubbed her eyes and yawned, sitting up on the bed.
"Tiffi, stay inside," She grabbed her cloak and put it over her nightclothes before grabbing her wand, "Lock the door and stay here, alright? I won't be long."
"Wh-What's wrong? Is...Is it bandits again?" She asked worriedly. She'd dealt with bandits before even without her elder sister's help, though thankfully she was able to turn them away using her gifts before it got out of hand.
"I don't know, but something knocked over the sentry I placed. Just lock the door, okay? I promise I won't be long," She gave her a comforting smile before she left, making sure to close the door behind her tightly, "Can't see a damn thing," She shivered slightly and tightened her hold on her wand. Even if it was bandits she was reluctant to try and fight them all at once. They always came in groups."
As she stepped closer to the broken sentry she felt a rising sense of dread. She didn't care anymore if people attacked her, she'd grown to expect it in her choice of 'career', but if even one of them got away with their memory intact then the location of the 'village' here would be compromised. And at this point they couldn't afford to leave, so anyone with ill intent would have to be killed.
The snap of a twig behind her alerted her to another presence. Quickly she turned around and pointed at the head of the cloaked figure sneaking up behind her, "Take another step and I'll send a rock through your eyes," She hissed.
"My lady, please calm yourself. I do not wish you harm," She blinked at the sudden feeling of comfort she received. By all rights she should have felt suspicious, but something was pushing her to trust him, "We have met once before, my lady." Again, she felt the urge to trust him. She shook her head and pressed her wand closer to him. She was being stupid if she suddenly decided to trust a stranger.
"Who are you?" She asked.
"You've already forgotten me? I must admit that is a tad disappointing," He stepped back slightly and removed the hood from his head. Immediately Fouquet felt a sense of anger at seeing the face, even though she knew it didn't belong to that monster. She grit her teeth and readied herself to cast a quick cantrip spell just in case she was attacked.
"My name is Julio Chesare, although you know me as the messenger who delivered the plans needed for your mission," He bowed, a gesture the thief did not return, "It is a pleasure to see you again. I see you have found yourself under the employ of the one that had hired you for the previous job. Regrettably I cannot say the same for myself, as we had fallen under a...disagreement."
"What are you doing here?" She asked, ignoring his attempt at conversation.
"On to business, then?" He sighed with obvious drama, "Very well. Given your previous occupation and the circumstances in which they 'recruited' you I imagine that you don't feel much loyalty to them, is this so?"
"I might be. They pay me for work, not loyalty. Why are you asking?" Again she felt the urge to trust him, though looking at his face was enough to dissuade that thought. Normally the robed priest would be considered handsome, perhaps even beautiful, but she couldn't associate his appearance with anything but that moment where she had been violated.
"I come with an offer-"
"Not interested," She interrupted immediately, "I don't know who you're working for and to be honest I don't really care. I'm not cut out for working under an employer for long," She waved him off and began walking back, "Leave now before you overstay your welcome. My house is one of the few privacies I'm entitled to and I would appreciate it if you don't come here again."
His next words caused her to stop, "Your house? Then that must be your younger sister living with you, am I correct?" She let out a choked breath and turned back to look at him. He was smiling, "Sharing a house with family is common enough, but the disparity in your appearances would make it seem that you two were unrelated. You don't look much alike, particularly with her-"
"Shut up!"
"Hair," Julio finished, his smile faltering slightly the chilling glare Fouquet was giving him, "Your hair is the color of fertile earth, the clear mark of a Mage. I am curious, is she a user of the magic Founder Brimir founded...or is she a special individual? Perhaps she might even have a bond with the spirits-"
"What do you want?" She snarled, "You've already seen what Tiffi looks like and I'm not in the mood for games. So tell me what you want right now and pray that its enough to stop me from killing you and burying your corpse in a ditch."
"I do not want anything; I simply follow my master's orders," He chuckled slightly, "As I stated before, I come offering a deal," He gestured to the sky above, "Reconquista will fall, if not in Tristain then when the one who pulls their strings decides to let them collapse. When that times comes it would benefit my master if you come to work for us."
"More blackmail? I'm getting really tired of this," She pursed her lips and drew her wand, "Tell me, what exactly is stopping me from killing you right now? You're alone and given the fact that you just admitted to knowing Tiffi's secret I'm not much in the mood to trust you."
"There's nothing stopping you, really," He shrugged, "But I warn you, attacking me would most likely lead to your death. Assuming that you manage to kill me I came with my dragon, Azuro. He is not here now but when enough time passes and I don't come back he will come here and without me to stop him he will exact what he feels is justified vengeance on everyone here.
"A dragon? Why do I not believe you?" She bit back.
"Doubt me if you wish; it's your prerogative," He opened his arms wide, "Kill me now, if you believe me to be a liar. Or lower your wand if you're open to hearing the terms of our offer. I assure you, you will find them much more beneficial to you than working for your current employers."
"I seriously doubt that," She snorted, but lowered her wand regardless. She didn't want to risk endangering Tiffi and the others.
"First of all, we will not impede you in your 'career' if you choose to work for us," He held up a finger, "Material wealth is of no interest to us and if it is compensation you seek then we will be more than happy to oblige. Our coffers are being wasted by greedy priests and corrupt cardinals, so spending it for a more righteous case is a much better way for it to be given."
"So I take it your master is someone high up in the Romalian council, then? It figures that I'm being blackmailed by another would-be messiah," She rolled her eyes, "So what, another cardinal going for a power grab to become the Pope? I don't want to involve myself in religious wars."
"Nothing as base as that," He grinned, "While religion certainly plays a part in it, my master wishes for more than just appeasement of our great Lord Brimir. He wishes for all of us to have a better tomorrow," His grin faded, "But I can see that you're not interested in that, so let us continue. As I stated before we will not hinder you from your 'career' and we will compensate you accordingly. In exchange you will work for us with tasks that require your special skills."
"One problem then: What if Reconquista doesn't fall?" She asked, "The terms of your offer say that when Reconquista falls you'll have me work for you, but what exactly will you do if it doesn't?"
"It will fall. Its puppetmaster will lose interest in it at some point," Julio waved his hand re-assuredly, "In the low chance that it doesn't, then of course you are under no obligation to join us. My master will have to change his plans and we will contact you again only if his plans require it. Rest assured we have no interest in having you spy for us or turning you into a double-agent."
"Alright, one other question then. Given your place here and how you seem to oppose Reconquista what will happen if I run into you again or your allies when I'm on-duty, so to speak? Whether I accept your offer or not is going to be irrelevant if I'm killed for hesitating."
"Ah, of course we will not ask you to hold back under any circumstances," He crossed his arms, "Should we ever run into one another before the regime's fall I do not expect you to treat me as anything but an enemy, although you must understand that this of course means the same for myself as well. Hesitating when I'm opposed to you is a sure sign that something is amiss."
"And if I refuse?"
"You are already aware of what will happen. You called it 'blackmail', if I'm remembering correctly, though I would prefer to call it incentive since the benefits for accepting our offer far outweighs the costs."
Fouquet's eyes narrowed as she stared at the robed priest. He knew about Tiffania and his willingness to come here alone belied a certain confidence that whether he succeeded in persuading her or not then she would lose either way. Confident, like the bandit chief she'd met months ago, but there was something different about him...even if their names were unfortunately the same. She doubted it was real; priests were normally peasants and they didn't have last names.
"I suppose I must accept then, given the terms are much more beneficial than my current employers," She frowned, "However, as you stated I will consider you an enemy if I see you again so if you ever think of coming back here again I will end you without hesitation and take that damnable dragon you claim to have down with me if I have to. Am I making myself clear?" She smiled.
"Very clear," He returned the gesture. Fouquet's smile faded and her eyes focused on him, specifically his head, "Um...is something the matter, my lady? Could it be that you're wary superstitious of the moon eyes I posses?"
"No, it's not that," She shook her head. She didn't care for religious superstition, "It's your face. It reminds me of someone,"
"Truly? I'm flattered that you think so-"
"Don't be," She turned around and began walking back to the house. Hopefully Tiffania was already asleep, "It reminds me of a monster."
"Haaa, I...I think I may have made a mistake," Colbert mumbled aloud as he slumped against the wall of the ruin, "No wounds..." He pulled up the upper part of his traveling tunic and stared curiously at his chest. It certainly felt as if he was bleeding heavily and like his chest had been cut open, but his body remained whole and completely intact.
"What were those creatures?" He tapped the location of his supposed injuries and hissed as even a light touch immediately sent bursts of pain throughout. There was no doubt that the injuries were there, but his body - somehow - didn't show them. He continued to breath in ragged gasps of air as he leaned into his staff. He should be safe here, but he didn't want to test that theory.
He had wanted to explore the ruins eagerly ever since he'd found news of it. It was described as being like a chapel or castle, though the state of decay he had found it in made it difficult for him to take this interpretation seriously. Decrepit buildings, moss-covered stone and a constant feeling of depression and loss made it seem more like a failed attempt at building a city.
He had arrived in the neighboring town a day ago. When asked about the ruins the townspeople claimed that it had 'shown up' a few months ago with those daring to explore it never coming back, giving the already depressing ruin a reputation for being dangerous. Already people forgot about its strange origins, instead labeling it as a nest for monsters that they prayed would never leave the ruins and come to attack their town.
Attempts to explore the ruins by bringing it to the attention of the local lord was met with a similar lack of success. The Lord had hired a group of mercenaries to exterminate any of the ruins and only one had come back alive, rambling about invulnerable demons and warning anyone else to not come near the ruins for the sake of their lives. This had spread even more fear and effectively cut off any desire to agitate the monsters that no doubt lived in the ruins.
"Maybe I should have listened," He rubbed the top of his balding head and closed his eyes briefly. Curiosity would be the death of him, that was what the headmaster and other teachers often told him. It might have been true in a way since he could never imagine himself dying content in his bedside. It was likely someone would find him sprawled over his table at another half-finished experiment or in a far-off library somewhere reading to his last breath.
A cold chill enveloping his body quickly caused him to stir, "Damn!" He stood up and ran, ignoring the pain in his chest. Looking back he saw a pair of scythe-like hands push through the wall he was just resting at before being quickly followed by a long, angular body that looked to be covered in a white robe. What little he could make out of its body didn't cause him any comfort - Long hands, an elongated neck with no skin and hollow eye sockets.
Calling these creatures ghosts would have been accurate, for it was disturbingly clear that they were no longer alive. The wraiths had ambushed him when he had gone underground to explore the building's interiors. He understood now why that survivor had called this place a housing for invincible demons. No spell or attack he had casted could turn the creatures away for long.
He turned back and cast a spell, erecting a barrier of fire in the hallways behind him. The ghosts seemed to hesitate ever so slightly at the orange flame before it passed through it almost harmlessly, causing Colbert to run faster. He had lost track of where the entrance was and the spirits chasing after him made it difficult for him to get his bearing. Seeing a split in the passageway he turned to the right and hoped it would lead to freedom.
A dead end.
His attempt to double back was met with the creature bringing its scythe-like hands down on him, "Ah!" With a cry of pain the professor scrambled back and cast another spell, this time a more simple fireball. The ghost flinched slightly from the impact of the flaming projectile but as before it did little than seemingly annoy the ethereal creature.
Colbert raised his staff weakly and his shaking hands dropped it, forcing him to crawl back slowly as the creature slowly swept towards him. There was nothing he could do anymore. None of his magics could fight back against the apparitions and the damage they did to him was painful to more than just his body, but in also in a way he couldn't comprehend. It was as if they
As the creature stood above him it raised its hand to strike him down. Colbert raised his arm and closed his eyes, mumbling a quick prayer to father Brimir above and...
Nothing came.
No pain, no agony...well, apart from the ones he already received. Colbert opened his eyes and opened his mouth slightly at the figure before him. Not a ghost, or at least he hoped it wasn't, but a man. His entire body was covered by a crimson cloth, save for the bronze mask adorning his face and his feet which remained bare. In his hands he held a spectral dagger with his left and a long staff in his hand.
"You live," The voice was old, similar to the headmaster, "Come, we must leave this place before the rest of the disturbed spirits find us. Can you stand?"
"Y-Yes?" Colbert nodded and stood up, biting his tongue to suppress the desire to scream. Without proper context him acting like a dying man would have looked silly given the lack of apparent wounds on him, "Who are you? How did you-"
"It would be prudent to escape now," The wizened voice interrupted with a raised hand, "Come, follow closely, and do not attempt to attack the spirits. I will protect you, but only so long as you do not direct their fury upon you. These spirits do not take to trespassers well, but their wrath "
"Y-Yes, I understand."
Colbert followed the old man closely, making sure to keep his staff close to him just in case. Ultimately however it had proven pointless as the crimson figure's presence seemed to be enough to draw the spirits away. Those that did attempt to attack them were met with either the edge of the spectral blade or a spell from the staff that he didn't recognize.
"The ghosts have gotten used to my presence," He explained as they continued to walk, "While they hold no fondness for me many of them know better than to attack me needlessly so long as I do not attack first. Many of the previous explorers did not believe me and ran instead, turning them into easy prey. I regret not being able to help them."
"Who are you, stranger?" The masked figure turned back briefly to look at him.
"M-My name is Professor Colbert, a professor at the Tristain Academy of Magic," The masked man gave no reaction to the explanation beyond a soft 'I see', "What about you, kind sir? You have offered me aid and you did not know of me. What is your name and why did you help me?"
"My name is Ingward, sealer of New Londo, the place in which you find yourself in," He held up a hand and pushed open the door they stopped at, "As for my reasons in aiding you, it is a matter of responsibility. I was one of those responsible for the state we find ourselves in and though my comrades have both left their duties for different reasons I follow the will of Lord Gwyn and watch over the city - Or what is left of it."
The room Ingward had taken him to was vast, easily large enough to be equal to the chapels of Romalia. Though the decay and years of destitution had turned it into a shadow of its former glory, Colbert could still see the once majestic beauty the room no doubt contained once before tragedy had befallen them. The only source of light came from the light streaming in through the high windows, giving the room a feeling of untouched solitude.
Colbert looked past Ingward and looked at the rooms contents. Apart from the marble tables and seats there remained traces of decorations like paintings and chandeliers, though most had already fallen from their places in the walls and rooftops and littered the floor. What caught his attention, however, were the murals at the front side of the room. Each depicted someone - something - different: An old man in royal regalia; A woman covered with a dark robe and holding fire in her hands; A monster (there was no other way he could describe it) made out of the bones of many corpses; and the last one that had been broken and made it incapable of deciphering what it once contained.
"Aye, Siwmnae!" A cheerful voice interrupted his wonder, "It is always good to see a new face!"
Colbert turned to the source of the voice and forced a laugh at the sight of the...peculiar individual. A golden mask with large horns and, bizarrely enough, glasses framed the figure's face. On his body he wore a green tunic with brown gauntlets and boots while his shoulders were covered with a golden cloth adorned with the shapes of small birds.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," The armored figure shook his hand with an energy unfitting of the ghost-filled ruin, "My Domnhall of Zena, and you are?"
"Oh...um, Professor Colbert of Tristain. Nice to meet you," He found himself smiling and shaking the friendly figure's hand. It had been a while since he'd seen such genuine enthusiasm, and it was made all the more bizarre by the situation he had found himself in, "Um, Sir. Ingward saved me from the spirits that haunted this place. Are you here under similar circumstances?"
"No, he is quite capable of defending himself without need for my aid," Ingward answered for him, "We should not have to worry the ghost's anger so long as we stay here. None of them wish to come here, perhaps out of fear," He closed the door slowly, "This room was once where the citizens of New Londo communed with the Gods and the lingering memories of the citizens keep them away out of reverence or fear of reprisal."
"Gods? So this society did worship different deities. Fascinating!" He commented excitedly, temporarily forgetting about his injuries until the pain forced him to sit, "Ah, my apologies. It seems as if these spirits
"The ghosts do not leave physical injuries, but the pain is no doubt there, "Ingward knelt in front of him and pressed a wrapped piece of cloth into his hand, "It is a talisman. Hold it tightly and close your eyes. I will offer a prayer and heal you of the wounds they inflicted on you."
Colbert doubted it would work, but given everything that had happened he figured it was better to play along. Closing his eyes he found himself counting to stay focused and was surprised as the pain across his body suddenly lessening, "Huh?" He opened his eyes and was met briefly with the sight of a golden light enveloping his body before disappearing as quickly as it came.
"Wh-What was that?" He asked in astonishment.
"A minor healing miracle, a blessing given to us by Lord Gwyn," He took the talisman back calmly, "In this new land we have been taken to I doubted miracles would still come to us, but it seems the soul of our Dear Lord Gwyn reaches far," He smiled from underneath his helmet, "It is a relief to know that in some way his soul lives on. I can only hope that it has found piece somehow."
"What is this place?" Colbert said.
"New Londo, or what remains of it," Domnhall was the one to answer this time, "We were taken here many months ago, though how long exactly we have lost track. There were only three of us left and when we woke up here we had no idea of where we were taken, so we chose to stay here."
"Three of you? I only see two..." He looked around the chamber again just to make sure, but only the robed sealer and eccentric salesman were in the room apart from himself. Had one of them died to the spirits?
"Ah, Miss. Anastacia left not too long ago; she claimed that it was a promise she made with a friend of her past and that she would explore this land, strange as it may be," Ingward shook his head slightly, "The bonfire she was tethered to was no longer here. I can only presume it was left in firelink, though the reason were taken here along with the remains of New Londo remain unknown to either of us."
Bonfire? Tethered? What did that mean? "Hold please, you said that you were taken here months ago? Why did neither of you leave? Also, how did both of you survive? I never saw either food or water here. Surely you must have gone out to procure supplies."
"This may come as a surprise, Mr. Colbert, but I wish for you to bear with us," The two exchanged nods before turning back to Colbert, "In the short time we have been here we have understood that this land is much different from the one we have come from. We do not know of the reason for this, but the lone survivor of the previous group who had asked us questions refused to believe us when we explained ourselves before."
"It is alright, Sir. Ingward. I do believe I am inclined to believe you considering the situation that has just transpired."
"Very well. We come from a land called Lordran, a land the Gods once ruled over before the age of fire ended. Both Sir. Domnhall and I are Undead, which explains why neither of us need food or drink to survive. As a firekeeper Lady Anastacia also did not require sustenance, for the Humanity in her soul was enough to keep her alive without grievances. The ghosts here are the former citizens of New Londo when Lord Gwyn regrettably ordered the city to be drowned in order to stem the tide of the invading darkwraiths.
...He had to admit, he understood why the previous person would refuse to believe the quick explanation. Thankfully (or not), it was something he'd already heard before.
"That is a distinctly familiar explanation," Colbert forced a laugh, "I believe you, though my reason for doing so come from familiarity," He let out a tired breath, "It is not the first time I have heard of that explanation. One of my students, Miss. Valliere, summoned a Familiar- Ah, I'm sorry, a Familiar is a companion for a Mage that they rely on," He coughed, "Well, Ms. Valliere's Familiar explained that he came from a land by the same name as the one you claim to come from and that this unique Magic called 'Pyromancy' he used had its origins there."
"A pyromancer? Did he say his name, perchance?"
"Oh, yes, he called himself 'Raziel'," Colbert missed the surprised expression both held underneath their masks, "His explanation to us was a bit shorter than yours, but one similarity is that you all claimed to be Undead," He suddenly noticed their silence, "Um, is something wrong?"
"Ah, no, it simply came as a surprise," Domnhall smiled, "We were both acquainted with Sir. Raziel in the past. He was one of the few who bought the trinkets and others items I collected," He laughed softly, "He would always ask me where I had gotten them and my refusal to answer always infuriated him."
"You are his friends, then? Fascinating..." He mumbled, "Perhaps the reason for your appearance here is connected to what allowed Miss. Valliere to summon him? I need to talk to him about this as soon as-"
"Mr. Colbert, I would like to ask that you keep your discovery of this ruin a secret," Ingward interrupted.
"Huh? But...But why? Surely he will be glad to know that-"
"I sincerely doubt that," Ingward walked over to the murals and stared up at the one depicting Gwyn, "In the coming tide of darkness Lord Gwyn shattered his very soul and sacrificed his life in order to stem the tide of the abyss. What many never truly understood is that sacrificing himself to the kiln wasn't a quick death, but an eternity of torment and burning. To slowly rot away and lose your mind as agony from the fire broke you."
Colbert remembered the first day of the summoning, of the ravaged and burning corpse that had tried to reach out to them. Almost everybody had forgotten about it now, but he still remembered even if he felt no reason to distrust the Undead given his lack of hostility.
"That Sir. Raziel is here now means he has escaped the kiln, to which I am torn. His absence from the kiln would have had dire consequences for Lordran, though I am glad that he has managed to escape his torment," He sighed, "I hope he is doing well, at least. He was such a cheerful fellow and our goodbyes were short when he had finally left for the kiln to sacrifice himself."
"I do not understand. What sacrifice?"
"It matters little now," Ingward turned and walked back to the pair, "We are no longer in Lordran and there would be little we could do even if we were, so there is little point in dwelling on it," He stared down at his staff, "Regardless, I wish for your meeting of us to remain a secret. It is no doubt that he hates me for my role in leading him to the kiln."
"And even if he doesn't, it would be better not to reopen old wounds," Domnhall continued, "Many of the ones that had met in firelink shared shrine a common understanding, but we did not burden each other with overt attachments. If he has moved on from his life then it is not our place to pull him back. Our place is here or wherever we choose to go and the place of Lady Anastacia and Sir. Raziel are their own as well."
"You wish for me to lie then?"
"Lie? Will he ask you specifically if you had met anyone from Lordran?" Ingward asked. Colbert reluctantly shook his head, "Then it is not lying, but rather not bringing up old pastimes. Our paths have taken us to different places and no matter the journeys we take it is one that we ultimately make alone. I am staying here now to try my best in defending others from the ghosts, as was my duty before."
"I am simply keeping him company," Domnhall said, "But soon I will leave this place and explore, like Lady Anastacia. This land no doubt holds many secrets and I am eager to find them."
"I...I see..." He closed his eyes briefly before nodding, "I understand then. What has happened here will remain a secret, I promise. Only..." He looked at the mural again, "Could you tell me more about this place? Also, what magic and weaponry do you use that it is capable of harming these trapped spirits? The way you talk of these Gods also speak of a surprising familiarity."
"Yes, I will tell you you what I know then," Ingward could see that the man had a curious soul, and he didn't mind indulging him in his desire for answers to mysteries. He reminded of Salaman, back in his youth when he was Quelana's pupil.
He could only hope that the professor wouldn't meet the same fate.
'Wales' looked at the arguing council in front of him with barely restrained contempt. The ring of andvari forced his obedience, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He would smile, lavish compliments; act the part of a good and loyal lapdog. That was how that priest with delusions of godhood treated him and he would continue to take it all with a smile.
His reason for being here was for appearance alone, a constant reminder to anyone that doubted his 'master's' claim of having access to the legendary Void magic. Hmph, as if that pathetic worm could do anything without the relic of the spirits aiding him. Humans were such base creatures, constantly craving and wanting more than they deserved. All of these 'nobility', fat old men and young upstarts, were nothing more than useless wastes.
Though that wasn't really fair; it wasn't as if the rest of the humans were better. Humans were one of the few races that refused to worship the spirits, instead preferring to make 'deals' with them to try and delude themselves into believing that they could stand on equal ground with their betters. It was pathetic, but many of the spirits indulged them and saw little desire not to do so, so long as the humans acted in accordance to their whim.
Vampires, Rhyme dragons, even Goblins - All of these lesser creatures worshiped them. He supposed this made the humans equivalent to the orcs or ogres, brutes that did nothing but take and destroy in order to sate their desires.
"What do we do, Lord Cromwell!? The fleet at Tarbes has been destroyed!"
"Was victory not assured!?"
"Tristain has a trump card! What weapon did they use!?"
Ah yes, now he remembered. The meeting was concerning the failed invasion of Tristain, even though victory had been all but assured when Albion had broken the treaty. He supposed it was human nature to break the laws they set upon themselves: Spirits would always honor an agreement. And now the easily swayed pigs were complaining that their meal had been interrupted with the news that their prey wouldn't fall over and die as easily as they wanted.
"Friends, friends. This is no cause for alarm," Cromwell waved off their concerns, "Tristain believes that victory is assured with the defeat of our units in the first landing," He placated, ignoring the irony in his statement, "But our air fleet is still strong and even now we are making more and more allies. The loss is nothing we cannot recover from so long as we remain true to our cause."
He had to admit that he was slightly surprised. In the memories of the body he inhabited the prince seemed to believe that without the aid of that 'Germania' country then Tristain would fall easily. Perhaps his love for the princess made him worry too much. Or maybe he was genuinely unaware of the secrets the princess kept. Either way it didn't concern him that much.
"What measures are we undertaking, your highness?" A relatively young officer, his name was 'DuPont' if he remembered correctly, asked.
"Our troops and scholars are roaming the countryside and contacting bands of Ogres and other firstborns. There are-"
"Working with monsters!?" A somewhat portly priest asked, "But-But what about our teachings? Monsters are-"
"We are not working with them, ser Guillaume, they are working for us," Cromwell assured him, "We kill animals and take their meat, this does not mean that these are working with us as their equal. Tell me, is it not preferable that these monsters be used and their lives lost instead of our men? I can assure you that I have no sympathies for the firstborns and any allegation otherwise is an insult."
"O..Of course, my apologies, Emperor Cromwell," 'Wales' rolled his eyes discreetly. Pathetic, all of them were. Easily placated by words and assurances that were almost certainly false and simply relying on other races when it suited them. He could never imagine anyone from his own race having to rely on anyone to accomplish their goals.
Across from him and at Cromwell's other side he once again caught sight of the robed 'secretary' or at least that's what everybody assumed he was. He knew better, even without having seen the true nature of their relationship. Spirits such as him had an affinity for understanding the souls of other creatures. She had a fire inside her - and not in the way humans usually meant 'fire' - that marked her soul as something that wasn't normal in this land.
The meeting continued for a while longer; mostly complaints and questions on what would happen now that Tristain would surely invade them along with a few more promises of benefits on what they would receive for their continued loyalty.
Soon the meeting was adjourned and Cromwell left to go to his private chambers, Sheffield and himself following behind him closely. To the outside perspective it would appear like the two of them were completely subservient.
This couldn't have been farther than the truth.
"You've made many promises," Sheffield walked ahead and made a show of looking outside the mirror.
"I...I followed your instructions, exactly as you ordered..." Cromwell no longer held confidence in his voice. It was replaced by subservience and fear. This was his true self, the side that he had kept hidden, "M-Maybe we should not have broken the treaty? Tristain has a hidden trump cared that we didn't anticipate. A magic that was never seen before."
"What are you saying now?" Sheffield gave him a flat gaze, "Was it not you who desired to be king? Did I not give you the chance to leave before this war started?" She shook her head in disapproval, "Pathetic, truly. I expected more from you. I thought that the desire to rule would bolster your confidence, but in the end you're no different from the priest who was buying drinks for beggars."
"I..I'm sorry..." He knelt down and cried. 'Wales' felt a tinge of pity mix in with his condescension. As much as the Emperor-Priest acted the part of a brave leader this was what a truly was: A pathetic wretch that relied on his 'secretary' to plan everything for him.
"Prelate..." She knelt down in front of him and cupped his chin gently. Cromwell looked up hopefully, probably expecting words of comfort, "Stop acting like a child," She tightened her grip on his face till it began to hurt, "Do you not remember the day of our meeting? You asked for Albion and here I am delivering it to you. But how do you act? Like a worm that cowers at the smallest sign of adversity. It is pathetic."
"I...I..I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." Tears fell from his eyes as Sheffield stood up again. 'Wales' watched with muted disgust as the would-be Emperor stuck his tongue out and licked the woman's shoe, uttering more apologies and pleas as he went. He had seen pathetic humans, but the maggot that he was forced to serve was beginning to eke out traces of sympathy from him despite his distaste for mankind.
"Give me the ring," Sheffield asked calmly, ignoring Cromwell's actions. As soon as the ring was transferred he immediately lost all feeling of loyalty to the prelate and a newfound one to the supposed secretary. Well, he supposed loyalty towards anyone else would be a much better considering who he was being forced to serve.
"Things have gone into an unexpected route," Sheffield turned towards him, "I want you to go to Tristain and bring Princess Henrietta back here. Her loss would impact Tristain's armed forces severely and it would be advantageous to us."
"Should I kill her if she proves uncooperative?" 'Wales' asked back.
"No, kill her now and she'll be a martyr that Cardinal can use to bolster the troops. We need her alive," She smiled slightly, "That body you're inhabiting should have memories; use them to convince her to come back with you willingly. Once she's back here we can decide what to do with her," She paused slightly before continuing, "Decide on the appropriate time before pursuing her. And make sure to keep your face covered; we do not need anyone seeing the dead prince come back to life."
'Wales' smiled and made a polite bow, "Understood. The Princess of Tristain will be in Reconquista's hands as you desire."
Right, finished:) I was planning to put in Wardes as well but since his segment deals with the immediate aftermath at Tristain I decided to include him in the main segment. Alright, I have to make a thesis paper so lets make this quick: The next chapter is the Izalith flashback. Big question now - Does anyone want me to skip it/merge it with the main chapter and only show the important parts, like the Mott chapter? Or a full flashback chapter? You guys decide.
Answer time before I go:
Macman - They apparently didn't really siege Tarbes in canon. They attacked them once, then they sat around doing bugger all for three days till the army and the Void deus ex machina showed up. Not much I can do about that since I'm not a strategist myself.
Demon's Anarchy - You'll have to wait and see:)
LD 1449 - Changed the chapter as is your suggestion:) Thanks for that.
Metal Vile - Sure, when are you free? Also, the Tabitha thing was partly influenced by reading 'No need for Halkeginian Logic' by Midnak, where Louise really was riding Tabitha's back like a donkey. I meant to say 'Tabitha's Familiar'. Should be fixed now.
Krulla Chief - Uh...Raziel wasn't anywhere near Siesta, so he didn't summon him. Chester said he was making his way back in Chapter 27 so he arrived...just in time to save his family. Hey, anime rules run on coincidence:p
JagerIV - The deus ex machina is CANON - I didn't create it and given the size of the fleet it was kinda needed. Also, I did discuss the tone and whether I should go full depression or mix dark and light segments together. DS is a dark story while ZNT is a light one, so a mixture of both sides is going to be expected since this is a crossover. I don't want this story to turn into Warhammer.
Remvis - Nope, you're right. My new laptop doesn't even have microsoft word, so I'm not even given a choice here. On the subject of romance, I think the last chapter might have killed of most of it. I mean, they did see Raziel ravaging corpses for Humanity, and it's not pretty. Still, lets see where it goes.
LoyaltyToTheLegion - Personally I don't think that's Orstein, since you can get his soul for killing him in DS1. Either its some guy with his armor or the cycles theory meant he reincarnated like some of the other bosses and you have to kill him again.
CrazyScyth - People didn't like it, so it had to go. Given the tone of recent chapters it would be jarring as hell for him to suddenly mention stats like its normal.