Graduation is in a couple of months, which means stepping into the 'Real World'. Dunno how much free time I'll have at that point so there might be even more gaps. Ah well.
Had a friend proofread this. If there's a ton of mistakes I'll re-upload. Hostis deserves a break from reading my junk ;)
He was having dreams again.
Raziel sat up on the bed and rubbed his temples, his expression pained. Beside him Louise was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as she slumbered. He looked down at her and shook his head; it was the first time in days that she wasn't moving around or mumbling to herself, so he at least should have been happy that his master wasn't fitful.
Manus narrowed his eyes and pressed his clawed hands against the door of the tower. Looking up he let out a scoff at the dull gray coloring of the stone melding together. The structure was crudely constructed; despite it's size and imposing visage it was nothing more than stones cobbled together messily to form a pathetic spire.
Its limitations became more evident the longer he looked: It was clear that there had been no attempt at keeping the structure clean; he could see the rot and grime clinging to the stones and metal that made up the building's foundation. A building like this wouldn't be easy to make, and yet it was left behind to crumble into the abyss like everything else.
Looking back he stared listlessly at the foliage leading to this point. At first glance it made no sense - Why build an edifice of this severity if it was to be nothing more than a tower in the middle of nowhere. At best one could say that it was a monumental waste of time and resources. At worst it was a deliberate act of stupidity.
But he knew the true reason for its existence.
Now if only these dreams would stop.
Scowling, Raziel stood up and silently walked to the window. Opening it, he was greeted by the cold night air hitting against his cheeks, the twin moons bearing down on him like a pair of ever-watching eyes. It was colder here than it was in Lordran. In Lordran it felt warm, to an almost suffocating degree even. The dying embers of the First Flame were determined to keep their hold over the Godless land.
Placing both arms on the windowsill, he leaned forward and took in the dark sights of the forest surrounding the academy. It had only been a few months, but it felt as if he had spent a lifetime in this place. He didn't know what to call it - The academy certainly didn't feel like home despite how much time he spent here. He felt like an outsider; he got along with Louise, Siesta and a few others but barring the other servants everyone else viewed him as some kind of trespasser. He didn't belong here, though in the end he supposed he didn't really care.
He sighed, lowering his head atop his arms. Would he miss this place once he left? That was a difficult question to answer. Certainly the academy became a place of familiarity to him, but that was only because of Louise and Siesta. If they weren't here then he would have had no reason to stay. He never really felt at 'home' anywhere; creatures like him weren't entitled to that right.
At times he wondered about the future. It was a futile effort, he knew that, but sometimes imagining the impossible could still be relieving. Assuming they both made it out of this alive and he miraculously didn't Hollow, what would happen next? Certainly Louise would come back to finish her schooling, but then what? Would he follow her to where life took her? Would he leave her at some point? He doubted she would want him to be her servant forever; she would eventually tire of his presence and give him his 'freedom' given enough time.
Where would he go then? He didn't know this land. He could work as a mercenary, but a life full of killing only to earn money he would never use didn't sound very fulfilling. He could beg Louise to not get rid of him, but did he really want a continuation of his current life? Was he so afraid of the unknown that he would beg his master to let him keep being her servant and deny him his 'freedom'?
Given his personality, yes he was.
There was also Siesta...he closed his eyes briefly and sighed. When he'd talked about his future with her before, he was simply jesting when he told her he considered staying in Tarbes. It was nothing more than ramblings to lighten the mood, but now...was it a possibility? Could he return her affections? She deserved someone who could be there for her, not an Undead who was living on borrowed time.
Forcing the door open was easy enough. The doors were thick, the metal molded together in such a way that it would be difficult to break it down through sheer force, but the lock itself was rather basic. It wasn't meant to hold a thinking man, but rather an animal. A madman would try to break down the door, ignoring the lock entirely and resorting to nothing more than brute strength.
The door opened with a loud squealing of metal. He stepped inside deftly and closed the door behind him, the entrance shutting behind him with a click. He doubted the lock would be broken from such crude attempts, but it was never meant to keep people out.
It was to keep something in.
The lone occupant in the room looked up at the intruder of his 'home'. Manus kept his expression neutral as he walked towards the armored figure. This man...had he a sense of humor he would have laughed at the irony. Havel the Rock, a bishop of the Way of the White and one of 'Lord Gwyn's' most vocal supporters. It was he who proclaimed Gwyn's gospel to the masses, he who fed them their comforting lies even as their loved ones were sacrificed to the fires to 'purify them'.
Now here he was, caged like an animal.
"A visitor? How rare..." He made no attempt to move from his sitting position. Manus looked beside the imposing figure, eyes narrowing at the large club standing at his side. His weapons and armor were still with him, but beyond that there was nothing in this tower: No basic comforts, no food or water, nothing even a prisoner would receive.
He was wrong: Even a caged animal was fed. He was lower than that. This tower...it was nothing more than a dumping ground for their waste.
"Are you simply going to stand and stare? By all means, I do not mind..." His voice was weak, barely heard. Others would have either run for their lives, praying for the Gods to save them, or attacked him to stop him from spreading his 'plague'. Poor fools believed that killing him would solve all their problems.
"You are not surprised to see me." A statement, not a question.
"I simply do not care," He replied, "If you are here to kill me then by all means I welcome the release. I am no longer a bishop, as you can plainly see," He brought a hand through the dusty floor, "I am nothing more than a prisoner. This tower...it is to be my tomb. I am to waste away, forgotten and unmourned...a punishment for my sins."
A rebellion against the Gods. Attempted Deicide was the gravest of sins, above even the killing of a king or one's family. The Bishop's rivalry with the blind dragon was well-known and as his experiments grew depraved and the 'Benevolent Lord' continued to allow his crimes to go unpunished his relationship with the clergyman grew increasingly strained.
Little wonder then that the once devout follower of doctrine tried to rebel. Of course he was found easily enough, and as punishment he was turned into an Undead; a fate reserved only for the most depraved of monsters. Death would have been too easy a punishment; it was quick, a release even. Attempted Godslayers deserved to be punished for eternity.
And so here he sat, imprisoned in a tower and left forgotten as he 'reflected on his sins'.
"The Gods have abandoned you, Bishop," Manus spoke once more, "They have thrown you into this tower and left you to rot. Surely you do not hold any loyalty to them."
"My thoughts are my own, creature," He mumbled wearily, "We may both be monsters, but that does mean you are my reflection," His could make out the venom in his voice, "Tell me what you came here for."
Manus grabbed the man by the shoulder and forced him to stand. He didn't resist, though it was still somewhat difficult to make him stand due to the weight of the armor. He may have only been a Half-God, but the man's strength surpassed even some of his full-blooded peers. He stared at the decaying flesh of the bishop's face, the blank eyes devoid of life, before speaking his next words.
"Help me kill the Gods."
"Ngh!" He bit his tongue as his left hand was once more engulfed in dark energy. Scowling at the appendage, he suppressed a growl as the glowing runes cut through the abyssal fire consuming his skin. Control...he had to control it. He couldn't afford to look weak; Louise had enough to worry about, he didn't need her Familiar losing control of his left hand.
He had no idea what was happening. Dreams and memories came and just as quick as they came they left, leaving nothing more than a vague imprint of what they once were. Havel was...bah, it was impossible to remember. Whatever these runes were feeding him it wasn't likely to be anything too important. If Derflinger was right then he wasn't the first being to be summoned, and whatever memories had been sealed into the runes might not have even been his. For all he knew it belonged to the Familiar belonging to the previous Void Mage.
Still, that priest certainly wasn't giving him any relief. Clenching his hand, he forced himself to stand to his full height. After that cryptic greeting he had left, losing himself in the crowd of excited females once more before he could ask what he meant. He could have chased after him, but their stares bore into him and he found himself unable to push through the crowd. Their gazes were penetrating, boring into him...silently demanding he explain why they shared a face.
Questions he wanted to know the answers to as well.
His master had worried as well, but it didn't take long for her to disregard it for the most part. It was curious, but in the end she didn't think it severe enough to worry about considering the other changes he had been undergoing. Evidently she decided it would be a waste of time to wonder why he looked similar to a priest when she could instead spend it staring at that blank book of hers.
"I need some fresh air..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a mimicked breath. Louise would wake up in a few hours, but it wasn't as if she needed his presence constantly looming over her.
Besides, it wasn't like he would be able to get any more sleep.
The forests behind the academy felt barren compared to the Darkroot Garden. The trees weren't very tall and they were spaced apart in such a way that it seemed less like a forest and more like a large garden. Tracing a hand through the bark, he smiled slightly at the feeling of the rough surface. He always enjoyed the forests, annoying forest 'guardians' aside. The wide open spaces felt much more liberating compared to the confined spaces of the burg or the crypts.
Sadly he couldn't appreciate it all too much. It was hard to celebrate nature when the trees came to life and tried to slit your throat. Near as he could tell there weren't any sentient trees in this land, though considering that they had giant spiders, Vampires and domesticated dragons that didn't really say much. For all he knew the trees could have been home to another race of sentient bugs plotting the doom of all mankind.
He shook his head. Now he was just being paranoid.
The farther he drew from the academy the less his hand pulsed. He looked down at the blackened limb and moved his fingers experimentally. It was odd - It was painful at first, but soon it left his hand lacking any sort of feeling altogether. Even moving his fingers felt unnatural, as if he was swinging a sword rather than a part of his anatomy. If he cut off his fingers would he even feel the pain?
He could see the practical applications of this. While the condition was odd, it could also prove useful; if he never felt pain then he would be much more effective in combat. The amount damage an Undead could take was much more than that of a human, though the exact threshold was unknown to them. If he removed the factor of pain then it was completely possible for him to survive anything save getting his head cut off or having his entire body crushed by overwhelming pressure.
Havel laughed.
It was an odd sound, reminiscent more of choking gasps than any attempt mirth. Manus' eyes narrowed and his grip loosened as the man's chortles slowly died out, only to be replaced with an empty smile. Despite his attempts to appear rebellious it was clear that the bishop was nothing more than a shell of the man he once was. The man who stood up against the dragons and carved his weapon out their teeth was replaced with a rotten carcass clinging to life.
Just like him.
"What is it that you find so amusing?" Manus asked slowly, his stance rigid. If the bishop went mad and attacked him there then he would not find an easy victim, "Do not tell me that you still hold loyalty to them. They abandoned you, Prelate. They turned you into a monster." He moved his clawed hands to emphasize his point, "You owe them nothing."
"Hahahahaha..." Another bout of laughter, sounding even more pathetic than the last, "You speak the truth, an duine." Havel's smile faltered, "For years I served Lord Gwyn, spreading his message and converting those who refused to believe. I asked for no reward, only that he control that mad beast. I converted the non-believers because I genuinely believed in my Lord."
"Lie to yourself if you must," Manus scoffed, "Delude yourself into believing that you were always a self-sacrificing clergyman. We both know you were as hedonistic and prone to temptation as your peers." He scratched the stone wall, trying to keep his frustration controlled, "You spread their lies, claiming that it was for their own good. And yet who claimed the luxuries borne of the struggles of the worshipers?"
"Hah...it is amusing to hear that from you, of all people." The way he said the last word made it quite clear how he viewed the Undead in front of him, "I was there at your execution. We shared crimes, but at the time I considered you a madman for even considering rebellion. I admit I was surprised: You were always loyal to Lord Gwyn, and until he ripped those wings from your back you claimed that you would never betray him."
"That man is dead," He snarled, "I do not remember anything about who I once was and it does not matter. All I remember now are the years of torment in that dark abyss. Death would have been preferable, but they refused to give me even that. Who or what I once was does not matter anymore: All I care about is ensuring that they suffer as I have suffered."
"...Pathetic," He drawled, "You rage and threaten, ignoring the consequences of your actions. The world is dying around us, and yet here you are continuing to choke the life out of it with every step." He ignored the glare the monster gave him, "And now you want to drag me into your death wish. Haha...do you even truly know why you fight? Do you care about the consequences if you succeed?"
"You are speaking in circles, old man," He replied bluntly, "If you refuse to follow me then simply say so. Though I am curious as to why you would continue to accept the punishment they gave you. Is this your penance?"
"Because I still have faith in my beliefs, even if the Gods themselves no longer do," He spat out, "By all means, continue your mad crusade to plunge the world into the abyss. It matters little to me; I will Hollow soon enough." He sat down once more, "If you came here looking for allies then you have wasted your time, ollpheist."
"Fine," Manus snarled, "Die alone in this pit. It will not be long for you hear the God's screams."
He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the tree until he had bumped headfirst into it.
"What the...?" He rubbed his nose and glared at the wooden surface. When had that gotten there? He was sure that he hadn't gotten too deep into the forest. Looking back his eyes widened slightly; the distance to the academy's walls was far more than he expected. How long had he been walking? Looking up he was relieved to see that it was still dark out. It must not have been too long then.
A sudden bout of giggling caused him to turn around, "...Who is there?" His eyes narrowed. He could see through the darkness well enough, and yet he saw no one. His left hand pulsed again; he bit his tongue to keep him from crying out in pain.
"Up here!"
Raziel looked up and let out an annoyed breath as he caught sight of the second Valliere daughter sitting on the branch of a thick tree, her legs moving to and fro happily. Looking closer he could see the scrapes and dirt marring her hands and bare feet along with the tears on her blouse and skirt. Did she get attacked and climbed the tree to protect herself? He thought there weren't any animals here.
"What are you doing up there?" He tried to keep his voice even, though he couldn't stop the slight hint of curiosity from reaching his voice.
"Just climbing," She shrugged, letting out another soft laugh.
He waited for her to continue, but she said nothing more, "Just...climbing?" He repeated, "Why so far from the academy? And...why would you climb a tree of all things? Should you not be resting?"
"I wanted to try exploring." She beamed, "I felt restless. It's the first time I left the estate in nearly ten years and I wanted to see what was around here. Being able to move around without feeling faint is rather invigorating," She explained, "I used to climb trees a lot when I was younger and I wanted to see if I could still do it. It's just a happy coincidence that you're here too."
"Huh..." He didn't have much to say to her.
"So what are you doing here?" She asked, "I saw you bump into that tree. Something on your mind, Sir. Raziel?"
"It is nothing." He looked away. He was thankful that he was a few feet in front of her; Louise would have...done something if he accidentally managed to look up her older sister's undergarments, "It was an accident...wait, where is your bonfire?" He asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Oh, I left it in my room," She adjusted her place on the branch, "It was rather cumbersome and I couldn't very climb while carrying that as well." She grinned, "Climbing is a rather simple action, but after almost a decade it feels exhilarating. Oh, but don't tell Eleanor or little Louise; they'll worry too much and I won't be able to do it again. I'd prefer to not be confined to my room again after getting better."
"Yes, fine, it will be our secret," He muttered, "In any case, you should get down from there. If we are to have a conversation I would rather it be on equal ground."
Giving her affirmative, she slipped of the branch and let herself fall to the earth. Eyes widening, Raziel rushed forward and just barely caught the woman before she hit the ground. She wasn't heavy - in fact she was rather light all things considered - but the lack of warning still caused unnecessary difficulties. Shifting her position on his arm, he managed to stand, one arm under her knees while the other supported her back.
It was if he was carrying an overgrown baby.
"Huh, I didn't expect you to catch me." She grinned again.
"Are you an idiot?" He hissed, "You could have injured yourself. If Louise and that witch found out I was here when it happened then I would shoulder the blame."
"Right, sorry, sorry." Her giggling made it clear she didn't have a single ounce or regret, "I almost forgot I wasn't a kid anymore." She patted his head, "I wouldn't have gotten too hurt anyway. It's not that large a drop and before I got sick I was hardier than I looked. Though I appreciate you catching me."
"You should still be careful. If you take your body for granted then you may end up losing parts of it," He looked down at her feet. No, Anastacia was a special case; she wouldn't undergo a the ritual to have her tongue and feet cut. His master would die defending her before that happened. He needed to stop worrying about the past; it would only serve to hamper him in the coming days.
They stayed frozen in their position for another moment before Cattleya decided to speak.
"Sir. Raziel...how long are you planning on carrying me? It's not that I mind, but-"
He dropped her.
Cattleya let out a squeak of surprise as she suddenly found herself falling. Standing up, she rubbed her backside and tried to calm her beating heart; the impact didn't hurt, but she certainly didn't expect him to suddenly drop her. Across from her Raziel was looking away, his hand covering his mouth try and hide the amused smile he was nursing. She sounded funny when she yelled.
"That was mean..." She wiped the leaves and dirt clinging to her clothes.
"You can walk, can you not?" He coughed, trying to mask his laughter. She heard it anyway, "Besides, I could not hold you much longer. You were heavy..." He lied.
"Now I know you're just being a jerk," She grabbed a bunch of leaves and threw it at him. He rolled his eyes but allowed himself a laugh. Stupid as her actions were it allowed him to forget about recent events.
He watched her walk to the base of the tree and pick up her boots before sitting down, "I suppose this was easier than climbing down myself," She shrugged, her smile returning, "Will you tell me what was bothering you now? You said it was nothing but you looked troubled and you bumped into the wall so it doesn't seem like nothing. Talking about it helps."
"Too late. I already forgot what it was about," She looked confused. He sighed, "Long story. A fleeting dream or memory; either way it is of no concern now," He waved his hand dismissively, "What occupies my mind now is this war...and that priest," He muttered the last part so she couldn't hear, "Regardless, it is not my place to tell you of my problems. You are under no obligation to listen."
"Yes, but I want to." She patted the spot next to her, inviting him to sit. He ignored it; she pouted, "I thought you said you wanted to have a conversation on equal grounds? Did I give you some reason to hate me? You've been acting rather frustrated the past few days."
"It is not your fault. It is how I normally am," He half-lied, "Still, if it pleases you then I will accept your invitation to sit."
For reasons unknown to him he felt nervous as he sat next to the older woman. Did it have to do with her being a Firekeeper? No, he was already wary of her before he found that out. There was simply something...off about her, though he couldn't properly place it. The best way he could describe it would be that she wore a mask molded to appear like a face: It wasn't anything weird or eye-catching at first glance, but the longer he looked the more alien it appeared.
"Is something wrong?" She turned to look to at him.
"Nothing," He looked away. Looking at her was difficult, "Was there something you wanted to find out? Any worries of the war you have already heard from Louise and they do not bear repeating." He mimicked a yawn, "And as I said before I do not wish to bother you with my own problems. Surely-"
"Stop acting so polite. It's making me sick."
His head circled to meet her gaze. She was still smiling, still relaxing under the shade of the tree, but to him the smile appeared to have been crudely painted on her face, "...I am leaving." He made to stand up before she lashed out and grabbed his wrist, holding him in place, "Let go of me."
"Sorry, sorry. I suppose that rude of me," She giggled. It sounded fake, "It's just that...I would rather we not dance around this, pretending to be polite and whatnot. If no one makes the first move then both of us will just end up sitting here unable to say anything because it wouldn't be 'proper'. I've had enough experience to know how frustrating that can get."
"...I knew there was a reason I felt wary around you," He shook off her wrist, but sat back down. Despite her shift in personality he actually found it easier to look at her, "I have seen enough liars to know when someone is not telling the truth. But when I looked at you...it was as if I was looking at a doll painting its expressions on its face," She raised an eyebrow at the odd analogy, "It felt odd looking at you."
"I wasn't lying. Not really," Her smile faltered, "I love little Louise, Eleanor and my parents. I appreciate all they've done to protect me when they could just as easily have abandoned me. It's just...very tiring to always smile." She let out an exhausted breath, "If I showed them that I was struggling they would worry about me even more and I'd be an even bigger burden. So I always smiled, always looked at the bright side of things. I wasn't lying when I acted happy; I was truly blessed to be born into a family that cares about me."
"We all wear masks, I suppose. You wear yours so tightly that I mistook it for your true face," He let out a wry smile, "Nobles seem to have a flair for the dramatic."
"Yes, well, I would appreciate if you keep this to yourself. I'd rather not worry little Louise or Eleanor. Acting polite and coy when talking to you didn't seem to do any good so I thought it would be better if it was honest," She blushed slightly, "I apologize if it seems odd. It's been a while since I could talk openly like this, to worry about offending someone if I didn't watch every action."
"No, this is...preferable," He leaned back on the tree, "Truth be told this makes it much easier to talk to you."
"Oh, that's a relief," She smiled again. It look much more genuine, and he felt his cheeks heat up, "Now, can we please continue our conversation? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't."
"Fine. It will be our secret."
They talked for hours, mostly about recent events. Louise had told her about the conflicts they'd been involved in but she left out the details of her void magic, to which he followed suit. While he could appreciate her decision to be more honest with him it wasn't his place to decide to spill his master's secrets. He also left out his 'condition': As far as she was aware he was some kind of 'Humanity' Vampire. Blood and bones were often theorized to contain Humanity so it was technically correct.
Before they realized it the sun was just peeking over the horizon and they still hadn't finished discussing their topics. He couldn't help but laugh as he remembered their fervent run back to the academy; while he could excuse his absence to Louise he doubted Miss. Fontaine...Cattleya could get away with explaining the scrapes and injuries she received from her tree climbing.
Thankfully they had made it before either of the sisters woke up, though given how badly Cattleya was panting he had to wonder how she would be able to lie to them both that she had been sleeping all night.
"And if you look here, the fluid can activate the engine once its sufficiently heated. Isn't that exciting!"
Now here he was, sitting in class. It was his first time here; usually he was always standing outside or exploring while his master attended to her duties. Now, however, he was adamant about sticking to her like a leech.
All because of that damned priest.
He looked past Louise and glared at the blonde clergyman. Despite his lack of magic he was allowed into the classes after convincing Colbert that he was truly fascinated with the 'practical applications of fire'. He wasn't the only one looking; Everyone in class was looking towards the studious priest rather than at the lecturing teacher, though he either didn't notice or didn't care as he continued to babble on about the wonders of this 'engine'.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Louise whispered, looking him in the eye, "You've been acting weird ever since yesterday."
"And you are acting lax," He mumbled back, "You are usually the one who asks questions. You are not curious as to why we share a face? He claims I have 'stolen' his face. Given what we know it is likely your fault. You...know what I look like." He coughed, "You and everyone else saw a clear view during the incident with Wales' impostor. This...skin that I wear is from your spell."
"Well, don't look at me!" She hissed, "Of course I'm curious, but neither of us know. You think I have any more of an idea about Void Magic than you do? All I know about it is what I managed to glean off the Founders Prayer Book and the books at the library." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "All the 'historical records' are useless. Hel, some of them even contradict one another. We're leaving in a week or two, so you can see why I'm not worried about that priest right now."
"There is something wrong with him." He raised his left hand slightly, showing her the dark appendage, "Every time he is close the Dark Hand acts up. And he...he claimed to know me. I have never met him before, either here or from Lordran."
She chewed on her lower lip, "Right, fine, that's worrying. What do you think that means?"
"I have no idea." He sighed, "Watch yourself around him, Louise. He acted familiar to you as well; if he catches you alone then keep your guard up. You cannot trust him."
"Right, fine, I get it," She muttered. She didn't share her Familiar's sentiments; despite how eerie it was that they appeared the same the priest was easily distinct from her summoned servant - He was handsome, confident, and charming. Even if they shared a face it was difficult to mistake one for the other. She could at least see why her classmates were drawn to him.
She went back to her notes. This 'engine' nonsense was confusing, but if she wanted to keep her grades at a satisfactory level then she would study it all the same. War or not she had to keep her future in mind.
"This is all pointless."
Louise's gaze snapped to the source of the voice. Sitting in front of the class, Kirche placed her head on her hand and made no effort to disguise her boredom. Her, Tabitha and Montmorency were the only ones in the class whose attention wasn't plastered to the mysterious priest. Given the fact that they looked between her Familiar and said priest they must have been wary due to the similarities.
"Um...excuse me, Miss. Zerbst?" Colbert seemed more confused than offended.
"All of this. This 'engine' that you're so satisfied to parrot around," Kirche replied, "What is the point? Why are you even still here?" Her exposed eye narrowed, "All the teachers and the other students already joined the army. Shouldn't you follow their example? Or are you a coward?"
The professor paused to mull over his answer before he smiled, "Yes, I'm a coward, Miss. Zerbst. I'm not ashamed to admit it," He looked down and adjusted his papers, "I'm comfortable enough where I am and I'm afraid to jeopardize my own life."
...He was lying. Raziel could see that.
"Hmph," Kirche shook her head and looked away. While there were a lot of things she disagreed with her country about, cowardice was not one of them. If push came to shove she would defend herself and others. But him...he was a self-admitted coward. She supposed that he at least deserved credit for his honesty - Most craven would make excuses, claim that they were brave even as they left their friends to die.
"Well, now that that's out of the way I think we should-"
The professor was interrupted once more was the door to the classroom opened with a large slam. The attention of everyone in the room was drawn to the sudden gaggle of musketeers marching into the room. Louise's eyes widened as she recognized Agnes leading the group, one hand on her sword while another held onto a rolled piece of parchment.
"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" Colbert straightened himself to his full height, "We are having a class here and-"
Agnes spoke over him, "By order of her majesty Queen Herietta, any remaining students are to undergo training," She unrolled the paper and placed it at the table. The royal seal was clear for him to see, "We ask for your cooperation in this matter, professor." Her tone made it clear that it wasn't a request, "As of right now classes are cancelled, Professor."
"B-But you can't just do this!" He protested, "Surely there is-"
"I follow the orders of the Queen, as should you." She shoved a finger in his chest painfully before turning to class, "Everyone, pack your things and meet at the front courtyard. Bring your wands. We will be practicing both your physical and magical aptitude."
The students looked at one another in confusion before reluctantly standing up and packing their things. Julio turned to look at Raziel, amusement flashing over his features, before he stood up as well. Raziel's gaze shifted to Louise, who looked just as confused as her classmates. Given her uncertainty he could make a decent guess that her Queen hadn't told her about any of this.
Colbert watched his students shuffling down the steps before he finally managed to speak up, "Everyone, go back to your seats!"
They all stopped. Agnes spun around to look at him, her expression unamused. Ignoring her glare he continued, "This is a class. Go back to your seats and we shall continue the lesson." He re-arranged his papers, "Now, we were-"
"What the hel do you think you're doing?" Agnes snarled, her fellow musketeers looking at one another anxiously. Colbert ignored her once more and continued to rearrange his papers, "Are you disobeying a direct order from the Queen?"
"I'm doing my job, Sir. Knight," He refused to meet her gaze, "I still have an hour of classes, so if you don't mind-"
His words were drowned out as Agnes smacked the papers out of his hand. Turning to protest to the female knight he felt his stomach jump into his throat as she unsheathed her sword and pointed the tip at his neck.
The students were either stunned into silence or let out surprised screams at the sudden threat, "Raziel, don't try anything," Louise turned to her Familiar but he was already gone.
"Disobedience to a royal decree is a capital offense," Agnes warned, the tip of her sword drawing closer to his neck, "If you continue to refuse to follow orders then-"
It was her turn to be interrupted as a hand grabbed her arm and twisted it around before pushing her away. Stumbling to keep balance, she drew her gun and aimed it at her attacker.
Raziel glared at her, ignoring the gun aimed at his forehead. Silently following their captain's example, the rest of the musketeers drew their flintlocks and aimed it at him as well. Behind him he could feel Colbert shivering slightly, though he seemed rather calm considering he was nearly stabbed in the throat. He could make out at least half a dozen guns trained on him; he could survive those shots.
"You again?" Agnes' glare only worsened as she caught sight of the pale Familiar, "This is none of your business."
"It is when you start threatening my friends," His left hand's pulsing only grew worse. He was unarmed, but if he snapped her neck then he could steal her sword.
She continued to glare at him for another minute before she slowly lowered her gun, "Forget it. I'm not here to pick fights with pets," She turned back to the class, "Everyone, follow the instructions I've given you. Meet in the front courtyard in fifteen minutes." She gave one more glance at the odd pair before leaving the room, the rest of her musketeers following after her diligently.
The rest of the students followed the knight after a moment of silence. He caught sight of Louise looking displeased before she left the room; no doubt she would have a few choice words for him once they met up later.
Looking back at the teacher he found the balding man supporting himself on the table, his breath ragged and his skin wet with perspiration.
"...Are you alright?" Raziel asked softly.
"Oh...y-yes, of course," He nodded, forcing himself to smile, "You have my thanks for intervening, though it may have been unnecessary. It was nothing more than a threat to cow me," He let out a choked laugh, "I will admit, I almost didn't see you. I'm surprised her musketeers didn't stop you before you get to her."
"Their attention was focused on their captain," He scoffed. Though he had to admit that he was surprised by how fast he had run to the teacher's aid to the point of calling him a friend even; he didn't converse with the man much, though what little they discussed together stuck in his mind as being fascinating. Either that or he just didn't like Agnes very much and took every opportunity to oppose her.
It was most likely the latter.
Slow clapping jolted him out of his reverie. Looking to the source he let out a barely suppressed growl as the priest mockingly applauded him, his smile ever-present.
"You come to your aid of your friends. I suppose I should have expected that after your little bar brawl with the prince," He smirked, "That will be helpful in the days to come. Such a trait is sadly rare in this day and age."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Just my own observations." He stood up and began walking down the steps, "I am going to join the others in their practice; I may only be here temporarily but it is only proper that I also contribute. You are welcome to join me if you like."
And with that he left, leaving the fatigued teacher and the angry Undead behind.
Raziel crossed his arms, standing with his back against the wall. Despite the priest's invitation he had no desire to join in the training instituted by that deluded tyrant. He wanted to leave, perhaps to see Siesta, but he needed to keep an eye on his master and the priest. His suspicion of the clergyman was growing larger with every second that passed.
He knew about Wales. His statement was vague enough to be misconstrued, but he knew what he heard. How exactly the priest knew about his 'activities' with the deceased royal was what worried him - No one, not even Louise, truly knew about what he'd done that night. Even what he'd told Siesta was nothing more than vague half-truths. Was he there in Albion? He didn't remember running into him at any point, that was certain.
"Alright, pick up the practice staves!"
His attention was drawn back to the 'training'. He hesitated to even call it that considering it essentially amounted to the students flailing at one another with sticks loaded down with sandbags on both ends. Given how badly they were all fumbling and tripping over themselves he estimated that they would be able to keep their balance after a couple of months of training. Either that or a boatload of souls for each of them.
What was the point of this? Surely their magic was enough and in an emergency a knife would be more practical, yes? He doubted even a trained warrior would choose a bulky staff over a knife when an enemy drew close.
The only one who seemed to be even halfway competent with the 'weapon' was the priest. He watched the preacher easily deflect the blow of a first year girl before helping her onto her feet, flashing her an open smile. The girl blushed and gratefully accepted his aid, obviously reluctant to let go of the blonde's hand once she was finally up. What did they call this? Love or lust? He was still learning in that regard.
Catching his gaze, the moon-eyed young man gave the Undead a teasing wink.
The screams were almost deafening.
Manus crouched and observed the proceedings. A huge crowd gathered over a raised wooden stand. Up above the mass of heads he could see a priest, shouting out practiced words and curses while the servants behind him readied their torches. Their skilled movements and timing made it clear this wasn't the first time they had done this, nor would this be the last.
Lining the stand behind him he could make out half a dozen humans tied up on stakes. Most of them screamed, though a few simply looked down and cried, their wills already broken.
"We gather here today to cleanse the defilers!" The priest boomed, raising his hands to the skies, "They have given into the Darkness, and we shall show them the light! The fire warms and protects us, and yet they turn their backs on it! They will be cleansed in the holy fires!"
"Lies! We did not choose this!" One of the 'defilers', a young man by the look of him, screamed, "We are not monsters! Good people, we are not Undead! We are still human!"
The preacher snarled, bounding over to him and smacking him across the face, "Silence, monster! Your very existence is an affront to our beloved Lord's benevolence!" He turned back to the crowd, "Do not be swayed, my good people! They may appear like you and I, but they are nothing like us! They threw away all the Gods have given us in their lust for power!"
The purges were an increasingly common sight. In the year he'd spent exploring this land, he found that the 'Undead curse' had slowly but surely been spreading. No one was safe: Male or female, young or old, the 'curse' did not discriminate. The existence of the walking dead were seen as an affront to the very values the Gods represented and all those who were 'saved from the darkness' feared and hated them.
The most common way people 'killed' them was through the 'cleansing'. 'The fire shall cleanse them of their sins and protect us', or at least that's what they continued to proclaim. Even as family and friends were dragged from their houses to be burned on nothing more than mere suspicion no one protested, only watching like the craven they were, praying that they wouldn't be next.
"Let the first sinner be cleansed!" At his nod the hooded executioner stepped close to the first stake and threw the torch into the wood. The old woman struggled in her confines, begging and pleading that she was always a loyal follow of the doctrines and that she deserved mercy. The crowd watched silently as the fire consumed her skin and her screams pierced the air.
"No evil can survive the fire blessed by our Lord Gwyn!" He chanted, the screams of the old woman fading as the life left her, "We give ourselves unto him and he in turn guides and protects us!"
"He guides and protects us!"
"It is he to who we owe our lives!"
"He guides and protects us!"
"Let not the temptation of power sway you! It is through loyalty to our Lord that we will be saved!"
"He guides and protects us!"
Manus growled and turned away, trying to swallow his disgust. Pathetic: They were nothing more than mindless thralls, swarming over a corpse like maggots. Their fear was so overpowering that they would allow their loved ones to die if only so they would be spared. None of them deserved to live; they were nothing more than craven worms.
He stood up and walked among the roofs. They were all so enthralled by the perverse sacrifices that they took no notice of him. He stopped only when he was right above the wooden stand. He could jump down there right now, kill all these cowards and save the would-be sacrifices. It would be easy, and he could feed himself in the process.
But was it worth exposing himself? Regardless of his strength he was only one man. He had survived the past year by choosing his battles, never killing more than he could. He couldn't kill everyone in that crowd - there were too many of them - and if they got away and exposed that he was here then it would make his missions in the catacombs all the more difficult.
"The next sinner shall now be judged!"
The abomination clenched his hand. He didn't have much time, he had to make the decision now. Time seemed to slow as the masked executioner stepped ever closer to the next sacrifice. Mentally chastising himself, he jumped.
The priest's chant was cut off as his follower suddenly found himself missing a head, "What the-" His eyes darted to the monstrous creature that had killed his subordinate - Rotten skin that had been coated black, exposed bone running along his arms and upper body and blank white eyes that seemed to stare through him.
Merely looking upon it caused bile to rise to his throat.
Before he could raise another order the creature darted to the other executioner and plunged a clawed hand against his stomach. He screamed, but it gave no indication that it heard the cries of pain as he ripped apart the flesh and pulled the man's insides out.
"M-Monster!"
"Run!"
"Lord protect us!"
The priest turned to run but it was faster. Manus grabbed his leg and pulled, causing a sickening crack as the man's bones snapped. He opened his mouth, though whether it was to plead, curse or even simply scream in fear he did not know.
Manus glared down at the cowardly preacher before shoving his clawed fingers down the man's mouth. The worm's struggles intensified, his tears escaping through wide eyes. Manus allowed himself a laugh as he pulled down and separated the man's jaw from the rest of his face. He watched as the life faded from his eyes.
He stood and looked down at the crowd. All of them were running, many of them even pushing each other aside or trampling over others in their rush. He felt his anger boil. Cowards. He didn't have enough time to kill them all.
"Run you cowards! Run like the craven you are!" He gathered abyssal energy in his palm and threw it at the panicking masses. He could hear them screaming as the corruption destroyed them, "The day of your beloved Gods shall soon come to an end!"
"Ms. Valliere, would you do me the honor of being my sparring partner?"
Shaking off the visions, he just barely caught sight of the priest giving his master a small bow and smile. Louise peered at the priest uncertainly before shifting her gaze to her Familiar. He shook his head and mouthed a 'no' at her. She couldn't trust him. He doubted he would try anything in such a public setting but he didn't want Louise being near him all the same.
"...Um, yes, I'll be your sparring partner."
Raziel grit his teeth at his master's nod. What in the abyss was she doing? Did she not see his reply? No, he definitely saw her look at him. So why in the abyss would she-
He ducked, avoiding the wooden sword aimed at his head. Stepping back he glared at the musketeer that had attempted to attack him. She wore a white cloak, similar to Agnes, so he would assume she was either her second in command or another high ranking member of her group. Agnes was still focused on the students; did she order her to attack him?
"What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed. If she made another attack he would respond in kind.
Rather than verbally replying she threw a spare practice weapon at his feet. He ignored it, "Pick up that weapon. Lets spar." She held the hilt with both hands. He still ignored the tossed weapon.
"I am not joining your charade." He kept his left hand behind him. He had to keep calm, "If you wish to waste your time with this farce then do so by all means, but leave me out of it."
She charged and attempted to stab him with the blunt instrument. Raziel stepped to the side and growled. She was testing his patience.
"I am warning you. If you keep attacking me then I will not hold back."
She attempted an overhead slash this time. The movement was slow, perhaps a misguided attempt to give him a chance to defend himself. The Undead grabbed the sword mid-swing and yanked it away forcefully, causing the knight to stumble. With his other hand he pulled her towards him and headbutted her.
Raziel watched her fall on her back, holding onto her bleeding nose muffling groans of pain. Shaking his head, he rubbed the blood from his forehead and picked up the discarded weapon. If she wanted a fight then she was going to get one. A few strikes to her head wouldn't kill her, but it would no doubt be painful. Still, that was none of his concern - He had warned her already.
Just as he was about to slam the sword to her head he heard a piercing clap of sound engulf the area.
"That's enough!"
Turning to the source he found Agnes glaring at him, one hand still raised from shooting the air. They were all staring at him, judging him. He scowled and threw away the sword as a pair of lower ranking musketeers pushed past him and helped their comrade up to her feet. Raziel clicked his tongue and went back to his previous place in the wall. Of course it was his fault; nevermind that she attacked him first.
The students stared at him for a moment longer before they reluctantly went back to their training. He didn't need to look up to know the annoyed footsteps drawing nearer were those of Agnes. His master was no doubt too busy mooning over that priest.
"What the hel was that?" Agnes bit out, trying and failing to keep her voice level, "Would you mind explaining why you were trying to beat one of my musketeers?"
"She attacked me. Three times," He made no attempt to mask the venom in his voice, "I warned her not to and she persisted. I know your Queen demands obedience and you are foolish enough to follow her but I will not follow your stupidity."
"She was asking for a spar, you idiot. A spar you already won. First blood means the fight is over, anyone would know that." She eyed the remaining traces of blood dotting his forehead, "Listen: Whatever the hel you are, keep yourself under control."
"I am under no obligation to follow your orders. Go back to your pathetic attempt at practice and leave me be. The next time one of your lapdogs attack me it will take more than a loud sound to make me stop."
Agnes balled her hand into a fist. It was so tempting to hit him right now, but she knew her limits - She had her training and experience, but given what happened to the assassin in the theater she wasn't willing to push her luck. Dealing with firstborns of any kind wasn't a bet any sane man would take.
The training continued for a few more hours, enough time for the sun to start dipping into the horizon. As expected no one attempted to bother him any more, which suited him just fine; it allowed him to observe his master's 'sparring' with the clergyman.
To say she was poor at it would be similar to calling Gwyndolin a coward: It was both true and an understatement of how bad it really was. He thought at least his master would pick up some experience given all the near-death dangers they've undertaken, but she could at best be described as painfully clumsy. Tripping over herself, missing her strikes and taking so long to attack that a one-legged Hollow could avoid her hits.
Really the only one who seemed to have any experience with using the wooden instruments was Tabitha, and even then it was clear she didn't care enough to do much more than dodge her opponent's strikes while making no attempt to fight back.
"Alright, that's enough! We'll continue this tomorrow!"
At her announcement almost all the students all but collapsed, their fatigue weighing them down like metal. The only ones who seemed to avoid exhaustion were Tabitha and, much to his non-surprise, the priest. The smiling bastard didn't even seem winded and the slight sheet of sweat was the only way he could tell he had been even moving at all.
The musketeers gathered the staves from each of the students before marching out rigidly. He could hear the students letting out sighs of relief once the knights were finally out of sight.
Much to his surprise the first person to come up to him wasn't his master, but rather Kirche. His first assumption was that she was merely heading in the same direction but her sudden call of "Hello, earth to Razi!" had crushed that train of thought.
"Kirche...what is it?" He tried to clear his head off ill thoughts. There was no point in being angry with her.
"Just wanted to ask some questions," She replied, her tone light. Odd, he thought she'd be as far away from him after what happened with Wales' impostor. She should have seen him for the monster that he was, "You've been glaring at our new guest all afternoon. What's wrong? Jealous that he's getting all the attention?" The attempted levity was met with a flat stare. He didn't find it funny.
"I do not trust him," He answered softly, "Call it jealousy if you wish, but there is something...screaming inside me to be wary of him. Ever since he's been here I feel rage welling up and...this..." He raised his left hand slightly and showed her the abyssal taint coating his skin, "This has only gotten worse."
"Huh...I guess this would be the wrong time to ask why you have the same face?"
The exhausted groan was the only answer she needed, "Why do others think I know the answer to that question?" He muttered exasperatedly, "No, I do not not know why we share a face any more than I know how Firekeepers are made." She looked confused at the analogy, "If you wish to find out the answer to that then you should ask him. He obviously knows more than he lets on."
"I'd love to, but he's kinda focused on Valliere right now," She nudged her head. The priest was currently kneeling, offering a hand up to his panting master. He couldn't be bothered to even look at them; his master was a grown woman, at least that's what she continuously proclaimed, so she could make her own choices. If she decided to trust him then that was her prerogative.
"Still, this is all a big waste of time," Kirche continued, "I mean the invasion starts in a week or two right? I doubt she can actually train us to use these things in a few days." She shrugged, "Besides, it's not like Tabitha or I are going to participate. We'll probably just to home; it's not like Tristain's battles involve a couple of 'outsiders'. Let them fight their own fight, I say."
"So you said to the professor," He muttered.
"Right, I can tel you're in a bad mood so I'll leave you be." She slapped his shoulder and walked past him. It might have been in poor taste to be so standoffish but he really wasn't in the mood for light conversation.
When his master finally came for him he wasn't surprised to find the priest following behind her.
He looked to Louise, completely ignoring the robed young man, "What is it?"
"Julio said he wanted to meet you. Don't know why, though," She replied.
Meeting Julio's red and blue eyes wasn't easy. As soon as their gazes met he could almost feel the parasite trying to rip its way out of his left hand. Perhaps it was just his imagination but he swore the man's right hand convulsed as well. If it had actually happened the young man gave no indication that it had given the undisturbed smile still etched on his features.
"What do you want?"
His smile widened as pointed at the discarded swords, "A sparring match. You and me, first blood."
"...What?"
"Hey, why are you challenging my Familiar?" Louise turned back to look at him.
"Simple curiosity, nothing more." He gave a small laugh," I wanted to test my skills, so to speak, and Sir. Raziel here seems to be a powerful combatant given how he won against his previous challenger. I simply wish to try my luck."
"Are you insane? You saw what he nearly did to her! Listen, my Familiar is capable, yes, and he doesn't play games. If you-"
"Fine. If you wish to fight then I will oblige you."
"Wha- Raziel!?" Louise spun to meet his gaze, her mouth already open to order him down, before pausing. He was her Familiar; if she ordered him to he would follow her orders with no complaints, but...
Her mind flashed back to the incident at the inn and their conversation at the estate. Raziel looked to her, waiting for her next words. Order him to desist and he would follow, but could she afford that risk?
"Just...don't hurt him, alright?" She sighed, "Whatever happens keep calm. We don't want another repeat of what happened earlier." She hoped that Julio knew what he was doing.
"Right..."
It didn't take them long to position themselves in front of one another. Raziel forced himself to calm as he straightened up, holding the sword tightly with his right hand. Contrasting the barely restrained Undead, Julio seemed relaxed, almost happy even, as he stood in his own position. It was only a training match, but the priest's movements were far too lax all things considered.
He would enjoy beating that smirk off his face.
Louise looked worriedly between the the two. It was bizarre; it was as if she was looking at a broken mirror. They couldn't have been any more different, but their faces perfectly matched one another. She'd gotten to know him slightly in the hours they spent training - He was polite enough, and she couldn't deny there was something alluring about his presence, but she still needed answers.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"Huh? Are they fighting?"
"Will Sir. Julio be okay?"
Her classmates began to take notice of the impromptu match. It didn't take long to figure out that all of the support was directed at the moon-eyed young man. She shook her head and sighed; her Familiar was enough of a pariah as it is. She could only hope that he didn't go too far; they were all obviously entranced by the young man and he didn't want to see what they would do if he lost control.
"I believe it is proper to bow, yes?"
Julio bowed, a gesture Raziel reluctantly returned. When he looked up he almost failed to block the priest's charging strike.
"Hmm, you're fast!" Another attempt at a slash, one he dodged this time. The priest was fast, almost inhumanly so. Julio jumped back to avoid the Undead's clumsy counterattack, giving a wave to the crowd of cheering females. Raziel snarled; he wasn't taking this seriously.
As he prepared to strike he felt a searing pain engulf his left hand and it nearly caused him to collapse. Ignoring the strain he charged ahead and clumsily attempted to stab him; an attempt that easily deflected, though he saw Julio's smirk falter slightly.
Three strikes, all from Julio. The first two he avoided, but the third hit his side and caused him to let out a frustrated growl. It didn't hurt, especially not with wooden weapons, but the way the priest seemed to dance around him frustrated him to no end.
Raziel fared no better. The pain his his hand only grew worse at every second that passed and he could do nothing more than dodge or block the priest's fluid strikes. He wanted to kill him, to lose himself in his rage and tear him limb from limb. His eyes scanned the crowd and he found his master looking at him worriedly. No...no, he couldn't afford to lose control. Not in front of her.
Manus released an monstrous roar as the silver knights charged at him. They all swung at once, all attempting to hit him. The revenant avoided their strikes and attacked the one closest to him, tearing through his ornate armor.
Julio smirked as the Undead was forced back. It was quite obvious that he didn't know how to block out the memories, and it was beginning to cost him. He made another strike, this time aimed at his neck, and his opponent could only look dumbly as the sword smacked against his skin.
Die. They would all die. Opening his 'mouth' to feed on the recently deceased knight, he felt relief wash over him as the man's essence was taken. The rest of the knights, seeing their ally's body disappear, began to back away in fear. Manus laughed and gathered abyssal energy in his hands. None of them would get away. All of them would die screaming.
"Raziel, look out!"
Looking up, he just barely avoided the strike aimed at his face, the sword's tip brushing against his forehead. Raziel shook his head; he had to make the visions stop. He needed to focus.
Dead. They were all dead. Manus looked down at the fresh corpses, the golden blood trickling from their mangled bodies. How many of them had he killed by now? With every life he took he continued to grow stronger. He thought they would have stopped coming for him by now.
"I believe it's my win."
Raziel looked up at the priest's smirking face. Paying more attention he found that he had been forced onto his back, and that there was something dripping down the bottom of his face. Sitting up, he traced a finger below his nose and winced: Blood. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
When had he...?
His musings were interrupted by the loud cheers of the students. Julio turned his back on the confused Undead, letting him mull on his confusion. Raziel looked up at the clergyman hatefully, his left hand almost completely covered by the abyssal energy. He had been beaten, but that wasn't what enraged him.
It was him. That damned priest. He...
"Raziel, come on." He looked to his left. Louise was tugging on his arm, trying to pull him up and away from here. Mimicking a deep breath, he allowed himself to be helped up. Right, he needed to calm himself. It wasn't worth-
"Monster!"
Manus didn't bother to dodge the rock that had been thrown at him. The young woman wasn't a threat, though she seemed to be determined to be an annoyance. She was a nun by the looks of her; which meant she was nothing than a blind peon following the God's doctrines. Killing her wouldn't gain him anything.
As he turned his back to walk away he felt another stone bounce off the back of his head. He growled and clenched his clawed hands. Turning back to her, he found her staring at him defiantly, another rock on her hand. Was she truly so foolish? No, that was a rhetorical question: She was nothing more than a pathetic leech, kissing the dirt the Gods walked on.
Fine, if she wanted to die then he would oblige her.
"Raziel, stop! Stop, God damn it!"
The first thing he noticed were the horrified stares. All of the students looked at him, their eyes wide and mouth agape. Many of them even screamed. Next to him Louise was screaming, trying to pull him away and yelling out orders and pleadings in turn.
Looking down, he found the reason for their panic.
Julio looked up at him, his smile ever present even as he coughed out blood. Raziel's right hand was holding onto the priest's neck, keeping him pinned to the ground, while his left hand was raised to strike him. He could feel the sticky blood coating his fingers and the swelling on the priest's face made it clear he had hit him more than once.
He was...he had lost control.
"Raziel-" Louise reached out a hand to her Familiar. Looking up at her, she saw the shock in his eyes for a brief moment before he pushed her away and ran.
Raziel stumbled into the room, closing the door behind him with a slam. Going back to Louise's room was a stupid idea, but it was the first place that came to mind. Struggling to keep balance, he hold onto the table and and closed his eyes. Gods damn it, these unintelligible visions were beginning to take their toll. He raised his right hand to his head and strained to remember. Even just a bit would help.
...Nothing.
He slammed his hand on the table, causing cracks to appear in the wood. Why was this happening to him? His Undeath was bad enough already, but now he had to deal with crippling visions? This was too much, even for him. He raised his left hand; the appendage continued to pulse, trying to eat its way out of him. It raged, fought...hungered. He needed to keep it under control.
"...What is happening to me?"
Another burst of pain forced him on his knees. Not on his hand, but rather the left side of his chest. Where his heart would have been. Raziel placed a hand against his chest and his eyes widened.
Something was wrong.
Forcing himself to stand, he clumsily walked to the mirror before unbuttoning his shirt. Surely he was just imagining things. He knew it was inevitable, but at the very least he thought his recent revelations would extend his longevity. It couldn't have-
His entire body froze as he saw his reflections. On his chest, above where his heart would have been, he could make out large veins covering his skins. Hesitantly he raised a hand and traced through the root like lesions. They felt rough, and he felt a stab of pain at the contact. Despite the pain he continued to curiously touch the deformity, trying to will them all away.
The lesions were common for any Undead, but so long as he stayed 'human' then they should have been hidden. That they appeared now despite his disguise could only mean...
"Haha...hahahaha..." He laughed bitterly. Right, of course. How foolish of him. He was deluding himself, musing on the future when there was no chance it could ever have happened. Louise, Siesta...none of it mattered in the end. He was dying; it was time he stopped deluding himself otherwise. It was only a matter of time before he became a mindless beast.
It was only after he finished buttoning his shirt that Louise finally entered, her expression unsure. Raziel turned back to look at her blankly. She...she didn't need to know. She had enough to worry about without adding his own problems into the mix.
"Raziel...what happened back there?" She started, "You looked manic. You-"
"It is nothing. You do not need to-"
"No. We're not gonna go through this again!" She stamped her foot, "Tell me what's wrong with you right now! I don't want to but I'll order you to do so if I have to. Tell me what's wrong. Right now!"
They stared at one another in pregnant silence before Raziel sighed and started unbuttoning his shirt. She raised an eyebrow at his odd actions before gasping as she caught sight of the veins covering his chest. Both hands raised to cover her mouth, trying in vain to stop her surprise. Raziel gave her an empty smile and shrugged. There was nothing more that needed to be said.
"Wh-What are those?"
"Nothing more than a symptom," He muttered, "I told you before that I was Hollowing...this is proof. I...I am dying, Louise. This just means it is happening sooner rather than later."
She tried to say something, anything. Nothing came. Slowly she stepped forward and touched a hand through the roots. Raziel winced; her touch hurt, but it was comforting nonetheless. He thought that she would turn away in disgust; it wouldn't have really surprised him if she did.
Her hold on it continued for another minute before she turned away, trying to stifle her tears. Raziel gently took her hand and pushed it away. Any longer and he would have been tempted to stay that way.
"We should not dwell on it," He mumbled, "The more I think on it the faster it comes. Do not worry: I am sure I will last until this war ends. I will not leave you unprotected-"
She slapped him. "You idiot! You think that's all I care about!?" She wiped away her tears frantically, "I don't want you to last just until the end of the war! I want you to live you fool! I don't want you to die regardless of the war!"
"Louise...you know that is impossible." The empty smile returned, "I can delay it, but it will come for me. I...I am not alive, Louise. Undead are not supposed to exist. We have died once already; it is impossible for us to live."
"But-"
"Enough. We need to focus on other things," He insisted, "Louise, the more we talk about this the more my time shortens. Change the subjects."
"You...damn it..." She chewed on her bottom lip, "Is this why you attacked Julio? Because you're Hollowing?"
"I...I do not know."
"Whatever the reason, you need to apologize to him." She held up a hand, cutting off his rebuttal, "I don't know what your problem is with him but you need to apologize for attacking him."
"...We shall see."
They attempted to go back to their daily routine until evening when Agnes knocked on their door, claiming that they had been summoned to the headmaster's room. She ignored their queries and the pair were forced to follow the knight to the meeting point. She didn't miss the way the knight was glaring at her Familiar; ever since that fight at the inn she seemed to inherently dislike him.
The person waiting for them when they finally reached the office wasn't the headmaster.
"P-Princess, what are you doing here?" Louise looked around the room briefly in a panic. Another assassination attempt? Or perhaps another task that needed doing? There must have been a reason that she had to come here personally.
"Please, Louise, calm yourself. There's nothing wrong." Henrietta's smile was noticeably strained. Looking closer she could make out the bags under her eyes and how sickly pale her skin appeared. The monarch wasn't making a big deal out of it, but it was obvious the recent days had been straining to her. Louise sincerely wished there was a way for her to help her closest friend.
"Then...why did you call us here?"
The door to the room opened before the Queen could give her answer. Looking back, Raziel bit back a snarl as he saw Julio enter the room. Perfect; first the deluded monarch now the damned priest. As if the Hollowing wasn't bad enough.
"Julio, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the clinic?" Louise asked.
"Worry not, Ms. Valliere. I heal quickly." He waved his hand lightly. True to his word his face showed no signs of injuries or strain. Louise couldn't help but feel skeptical - Even with water magic the force at which Raziel was hitting him he should have been confined to the clinic at least for a couple of days. Hel, even a bandage for his face to cover the bruises would have made more sense.
"Mr. Chesare, good, you're here." Henrietta stood up from the table and walked closer to them, Agnes at her side, "I received the letter from your 'benefactor'. What is it that you wanted to say?"
"Letter? What are you talking about, princess?" Louise asked.
"I believe I can answer that, Ms. Valliere," Julio cut in, "My 'benefactor', as Queen Henrietta refers to them, has a vested interest in helping Tristain in this war. I cannot reveal everything to you now, that will be their prerogative, but we have no wish for this Cromwell to win in his crusade while proclaiming to represent the will of Lord Brimir. We sent a letter to Her Majesty earlier with an offer of assistance."
"Romalia can't officially support us due to their traditional neutrality. I assume that your presence here is not known to the general public?" Henrietta questioned
"Correct. There is something more to this war than meets the eye." He glanced at Louise, "Let us get this out of the way first: We are well aware of Miss. Valliere's capabilities of Void Magic. Do not worry, we have no intent to harm her or manipulate her in any way. My 'benefactor' understands the circumstances and they are sympathetic."
"I am curious as to how you found that out," Raziel muttered.
"You will find out in due time." He smirked, "Regardless, this is what you need to know - This 'emperor', despite his proclamations to the contrary, is not a Void Mage. However, we can surmise that someone is pulling his strings and we are that he or she is a Void Mage."
"Another Void Mage?" Henrietta's brows knotted together worriedly, "This is...distressing information, Sir. Chesare. Could you offer us any proof?"
"I fought briefly with their Familiar in Albion. She was...formidable." His smile faltered, "I escaped with my life, thankfully, but my 'benefactor' realizes now that this undertaking cannot be done without aid."
"Even if there is a puppetmaster behind all of this, the war's still a problem." Henrietta sighed, "Even with this information we can change little. Cromwell has to die before we can attack at the one pulling his strings."
"That is correct." Julio nodded, "But this information is valuable regardless. Once this war ends, do not let your guard down. Whoever this mastermind may be they have interest in funding this would-be rebellion. Gallia, Germania or even our own countries. This individual could be anywhere." He looked at them all in turn, "Make no mistake: This is more than just a war for land and titles."
A stifling silence engulfed the room as they processed the information. Louise and Henrietta looked down, their minds trying to make sense of the revelations, while Agnes and Raziel stood still at their master's sides. It was of no concern to Agnes - she would follow as her Queen commanded, as always - while Raziel continued to stare at the priest.
"Wait, how do you know this?" Louise spoke up, "Even if you can't tell us everything at least tell us how you're involved in all this. We deserve that much at least. How do we know this isn't all lies and misdirection?"
"Hmm...I suppose they will not mind that," Julio replied, "Think of this as an olive branch, a sign of trust so to speak. Perhaps this will convince you to trust me." With deft movements he took off the glove covering his right hand and and showed the back of his palm.
Runes. Eight letters branded into his right hand. Louise and Henrietta's eyes widened as they saw the runic markings while Raziel looked down at his own runes. The letters were different, but they were definitely of the same language.
"Do you believe me now?" He laughed softly, "My master is a loyal follower of Brimir's doctrine. They do not appreciate this unknown Void Mage, whoever he or she may be, inciting rebellion in His name. Just as Ms. Valliere is a Void Mage, so too is my master." His eyes darted to Raziel, "And just as he is your Familiar, I am theirs. Our abilities differ, but we are both loyal to our summoners."
"You're a...Void Familiar?" Louise forced out.
"Yes. Windalfr - The Right Hand of God." He lowered his hand, "Sir. Raziel is the Gandalfr, if I am remembering correctly - The Left Hand of God. Our roles are different, but we are both vital to our summoners - I am the messenger, while he is the shield. Father Brimir had two other Familiars as well."
"Four Void Mage. Three we now know..." Henrietta mumbled.
"Indeed. We do not know who this fourth one is exactly, but we are trying to find that out." He put on the glove again, covering the runes, "That answers your questions, I trust? I will admit that this meeting was somewhat unexpected for me but I believe this cooperation shall prove fruitful."
"...Are you from Lordran?" Raziel's question caught them off-guard.
"Regrettably not, Sir. Raziel. I may have given that impression, but I was born right here in Romalia. You could visit the orphanage I stayed in; I'm sure the matron would confirm my life there." Raziel still appeared suspicious, "I know of the land you speak, but I myself have never been there. Regardless, it matters little. I apologize for agitating you earlier and I want you to know that I hold no hostilities over your previous attack. We are both Familiars, and we need to be able to rely on one another. I trust we can put it all behind us?"
Julio offered his right hand in a handshake. Looking back at Louise briefly, he raised his own hand and took hold of the priest's hand.
"Gwyn, why is this no surprise?"
"Because our destinies run together, Manus, like two rivers that have met and can never be distinct again. At your every fatal turn you will find me."
When the blurry images faded, he was only slightly surprised to find that he had been pinning Julio to the wall. The young man laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He could see Agnes hiding the tyrant behind her while Louise looked as if she had just finished yelling at him.
A burst of pain on his chest forced him to let go. Raziel clenched his left hand and left the room, ignoring Louise's orders for him to come back.
Something was definitely wrong with them both.
Done and done. This chapter was somewhat difficult to write: The Cattleya segment went in a different way than when I first planned it and Raziel ended up being way jerkier in this chapter than in the previous ones. And before anyone says anything: No, I didn't forget about the Estus flasks. I just couldn't insert it into the chapter yet.
Anyway, I need to ask something: Should I go back to Wardes for a bit in the next chapter, see how he's doing and how they hired Menvil, or do I just skip that since it counts as an 'unnecessary' POV? You guys decide.
OshiroNai - Nope. In-game, the Dark Hand is just a glove that lets you either suck Humanity out of NPC's or create a shield useless for blocking anything but abyss magic. It's gotten buffed here.
Spirit of Justice - Nope, not the Pardoner. Most would probably be able to tell who it was since I have the foreshadowing subtlety of a brick.
Kishinokurobi - Oh yeah, those were the days...though in all seriousness yes I changed my mind. Raziel was MUCH weaker in the early chapters, to the point that being stabbed once in the stomach nearly killed him. Contrast that to Bleu stabbing him in the throat and him being mildly annoyed at best. He doesn't really need the buffs anymore considering the changes he's undergoing as part of the story.
As for the box, we'll see. The swords might seem great, but it's impractical as hell for everything else now since he can't wear his old armors due to his diminished height and weight.
Mingyu - Young teenager might be overestimating him :p
Remvis - Yeah, I expected that. People seem to dislike Siesta, either because they find her boring and/or a slut. Still, they had the most consistent ship tease so I had to give the payoff. Cattleya falling for him because he helped her wouldn't gel since she'd essentially be repeating Siesta's circumstances. That and she might not be attracted to him - She appears to be about seven to eight years his senior, at least physically, so she's probably not getting hot and bothered.
Louise and Kirche are platonic, Tabitha doesn't really care beyond Humanity, and he and Henrietta don't like one another. Siesta was the only choice left in by the end. That and there's little time for lovey-dovey events considering what happened in this chapter.
Though I am curious: Who would be your preference? I might be able to take it under consideration.
Loyaltothelegion - We'll see where it goes. I can't afford to make the Dark Hand too OP.