Bla bla bla authors notes. Let's just get this over with before it splits off again.
The atmosphere in the room seemed to freeze at her words. Raziel's mouth parted in shock, garbled words coming out slowly. Henrietta's brows raised slightly: Alsanna had told her that this 'Gwynevere' - her past incarnation, she reminded herself - had been an important figure in the previous cycle. She was sparse on the details, but she had supposedly been the daughter of the ruling family of 'Gods'. The 'Daughter of Sunlight' or the 'Goddess of Fertility'...well, at least it wasn't 'Tristain's pure flower'.
Eventually he recovered enough to speak, "How do you know that name?" He leaned towards her, eyes narrowing. She backed away slightly in response, "I have not told anyone about her...not even Louise." She would have asked questions, probed him further for more information. She knew about Gwyndolin and that he had tricked him, but that name had remained unsaid.
For her part the Queen appeared relatively unfazed by his icy tone. Pressing her hands together, she regarded him neutrally before replying, "You first. I asked you questions about your homeland and I require answers."
"Why do you need them? What could it matter to you?" Even Louise had refrained from asking questions. Lordran was dead...or at least that's what he had thought until recently. Sieglinde, Chester, Elizabeth, Dusk, Ciaran...there far too many of them that had been taken here. How many more denizens of that cursed land were shunted here against their will? It was getting difficult to keep track.
That wasn't even accounting Julio and Elizabeth's claims of an eternal recurrence.
"Until a month ago, nothing." Her answer was soft, gaze shifting to look to the gray sky, "Recently things have...changed. Would you believe me if I said that not everything is as it seems? That...That this war or something like it has happened before-"
"Let me guess, you plan to tell me that this is only the beginning of this cycle. Is this correct?"
The monarch blinked in surprise,"Well...yes, actually," She admitted slowly, "How...exactly did you know that?"
"A talking mushroom and a hundred year old aristocrat told me..." The look she gave him was one of obvious disbelief. He stifled a laugh, "Regardless of the reason I know about what you plan to tell me. That this war is only the 'prologue' to something worse." He rolled his eyes, "Just because you and others believe it does not mean that it is true. Thousands believed that Gwyn would save them from the abyss-"
"Not knowing that it only delayed the inevitable," She finished, "I am aware of the story."
"...How do you know that?"
"A ghost told me." He gave her a half-hearted glare. He couldn't see any obvious signs of lying...though to be fair he couldn't see much of anything on her. His senses were dulling, "To use your reasoning, it does not matter what my reasons are. I know that this war is only the beginning, that if we do not do something then all of Halkeginia is doomed to share the fate of our predecessors."
"What would finding out about Lordran do? I fed myself to the fires and apparently all that did was set everything back to the beginning." He looked away and sneered, "I know nothing more than you could find in an obscure history book. I do not even know if any of this is true and even if it is my 'cycle' might not be the first and is simply one of the many that came after."
"First or not, I am to make this the last."
"Ha...Gods have tried and failed. What can a single Queen hope to accomplish?" The smile she saw was bitter, yet hopeful. The question wasn't rhetorical; he was expecting an answer, "...If I tell you about Lordran then you answer my questions. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
Talk of Lordran had occupied them for the next hour. Raziel did his best to answer, though her questions were oftentimes confusing. He was no God, he was not blessed with omniscience or knowledge that any other in his position would have known. She asked about the Lords, about events that led to the land's deterioration. She'd even asked if he had tried to stop the cycle before.
He found it...difficult to answer a lot of her questions. Some of them were simple enough, questions on the lands and the different deities. Others required that he delve into Manus' memories, and that was never pleasant. It was still odd, looking into memories that didn't belong to him. The fragment's recollections before the execution into the abyss were difficult to grasp.
Images came and went; one moment he saw them in perfect clarity and the next they were blurry and unrecognizable. He didn't know much about Lordran during its time of glory, but in the end those moments didn't matter. He still remembered the demons pouring out of Izalith, the Undead roaming the land because of the curse that Manus had unknowingly spread. He still remembered the power-hungry Oolacilians and the doom of Oolacile.
And he also remembered being both the killer and the killed. Images of an Undead dressed in dark metals hacking at his arm, the feeling of being smashed against the malformed walls but a demented ape. It gave him a headache just thinking about it; he could recall every move both had done. Dusk's screams pushed him to rescue her more and yet he also felt anger at the knight...at himself...for daring to take her from him...from Manus.
The Queen's voice cut through his haze.
"The similarities are little." Henrietta bit her lip, obviously frustrated "I would have thought that there would be certain equivalences, but the only thing that is similar is death." She started playing with the teacup again, "In your time Undead had begun to overrun the land and demons poured out of the land called Izalith. This is what ultimately led to the fall of Lordran and the rest of the land."
"And in this time people died by the thousands to determine who sits on a chair," He muttered flatly, "Not everything has to be the same. Death is death regardless of reason. Even if all this talk of 'cycles' are true Julio seems convinced that this one is somehow different."
"Sir. Julio? What would he know about this?" She asked.
"He knows about as much as I would and he seems to have a better grasp of his memory than I. Perhaps when we finish here you might find it helpful to talk to him." He shrugged, "To finish our previous conversation: If you are searching for similarities then you are out of luck. The 'cycle' started when the Gods took the gray earth from the stone dragons. There are no stone dragons here..." Well, apart from that one in Tarbes, and that seemed content to sleep its days away.
"There has to be something we're missing..."
"While you ponder that I would like an answer to my previous question." He placed both elbows on the table and slackened his posture, "How do you know about Gwynevere? I told no one of her, not even Louise. You also knew about Gwyn's sacrifice..."
"I suppose it's only proper that I answer." She let out a fatigued breath and abruptly stood up, "...If possible could we have this conversation outside? I would feel comfortable having this discussion somewhere less private." A finger played with the ends of her hair, "It's still early morning so going for a walk in town shouldn't be too troublesome. We can be back before most of the palace wakes."
"Why?" He stood up and followed her to the door, "We spent the last hour talking about Lordran, why hesitate now?"
She stopped in front of the opening, her hand holding onto the knob. She looked back at him, a pleasant smile on her face, "Because I want some assurance that you won't kill me when I tell you the answer."
Whether she was jesting or not he couldn't tell, but he ended up following her regardless. If he wanted answers then he would play along with her game for now.
The palace felt different from when they had arrived yesterday. No longer brimming with guards and other nobles bustling through the halls, it was seemingly abandoned save for a few sentries standing guard...most of whom were sleeping where they stood or otherwise distracted. No wonder the Queen could simply enter his room without some sort of armed escort. He would have thought that Anges would at least come with her.
"The guards on duty are complacent. This peace treaty has lasted far longer than it was supposed to and they have become bored." She commented aloud, answering his silent question, "You do not have to worry about being looked at with suspicion. So long as you do not make any threatening advances they're unlikely to do anything." This wasn't Tristain, after all, so they weren't overtly worried for her safety. That and who would be audacious enough to attack a peace treaty?
"Still determining what is to become of this place?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Ever since he had recovered from his wounds his senses had gotten sharper. While it was useful it also meant he was susceptible to annoyances like the cold, "You won the war, did you not? It was talked about all through town that this 'Gallia' had snatched you from being defeated."
"It wasn't just Gallia. You and Louise were there as well, if you recall," reminded Henrietta. She didn't miss the slight frown he tried to hide, "...We can talk more about that later, after I answer your questions. For now we-"
"Queen Henrietta, is that you?"
Henrietta grimaced, though it wasn't long before she replaced it with a practiced smile as she looked on at the new arrival. Even if she was caught outside in her sleepwear she always had to be mindful of her station, "Yes...good morning, King Joseph. How does the day find you?" She fixed her posture, staring up at the older male without blinking. Mad King or not he was a ruler and that demanded a certain respect.
Raziel observed the pair silently. The Queen had called him a king, but he seemed to be the complete opposite of one: Certainly he looked the part, dressed in an ornate robe lined with fur despite the early hour. He was also handsome, his features young and his hair and beard immaculately trimmed like the figure in a painting. If judged by appearances alone then certainly he appeared to be the perfect royal.
Except right now he had placed an arm around the young woman's shoulders and loudly complaining about the others being 'no fun'.
"Would you believe what Albie said to me when I came to his room this morning?" He started loudly, ignoring Henrietta's look of discomfort, "He told me that he thinks my ship is stupid! Would you believe that!? Here I am offering to give him a tour of my new pride and joy and he says that he'll use it as kindling if he ever actually deigns to take a single step in it. How rude!"
"Yes...how very ill-mannered." She shot Raziel a pleading look; he shrugged and looked away, "Ah...well, if there's nothing else-"
"General Hawkins said the same thing! ...Well, actually he said it in more fancy words but it's the same general idea." He waved a hand through the air like a drunkard, "I even offered to play chess with him and he said something about needing to sleep since it's still so early. Pfft." He pouted. It seemed distinctly childlike to the Undead, "What does he mean too early? I mean you're awake here along with your friend- Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there!"
Before he could do anything the energetic king let go of the young woman and bounded towards him, both hands taking one of his own and pulling it up and down in a sudden handshake, "Always happy to meet someone new, eh? Everyone here is such a bore!" He made a theatrical groan, "So tell me, do you want to see my new ship? Please say yes, everyone else already refused to!"
"I-"
"Apologies, King Joseph, but he will have to decline." Another pout. She ignored it, "Sir. Raziel and I have much to discuss and I'm afraid he won't have time to visit your vessel."
"Discuss? You mean...oh!" He started laughing. Both the Undead and the monarch looked at one another in confusion, "Oh, of course, that was so rude of me!" He looked at each of them in turn, eyebrows wiggling suggestively, "You two are going out on a secret rendezvous, right? A date? Ah, it's just like my own daughter and her paramours. Well, make sure that you don't get caught on the way back."
"Wh-What?" Henrietta's cheeks tinged with a hint of red, "We are not-"
"Oh, you don't have to explain it! I was young once too, you know!" He clapped Raziel's shoulder affectionately. This time it was his turn to grimace, "Trust me, everyone goes with a lover once or twice. It's perfectly normal." Again he put an arm around Henrietta and pulled her close, "Did you hear that the Romalian delegate was sent here as punishment? Apparently he was sent away cause he was caught laying with a nun. I mean just about everyone does it, but he's one of the ones dumb enough to get caught so here he is!"
"I...what does this have to with anything?" It was getting increasingly harder to keep her composure.
"Just a warning. You might be queen and all but you gotta keep it hush hush, yeah? Especially since you're laying with someone so...young." He looked Raziel up and down and grinned, "But hey, everyone has their preferences, right? I must say you're much more Gallian than I thought you'd be, sneaking out of the castle all for the sake of forbidden romance. I suppose we all have our temptations, right?"
"We are not-"
"It's alright, lad, you don't gotta say anything." He ruffled Raziel's hair and practically skipped down the hall, "I'll talk to you two later. And don't worry, your secret's safe with me!" He made a show of dragging his finger across his mouth before turning the hall and disappearing from sight.
At his absence a pregnant stillness settled between the two. Raziel looked at Henrietta blankly and she shrugged. There was...little she could do to explain the mad king's behavior. The monarch was an oxymoron; the mannerisms and interests of a child, and yet distinctly aware of the vices that many had tried to keep hidden. Thankfully he seemed to have gotten the wrong idea about them this time.
"He was...interesting." Raziel spoke, running a hand through his hair to try and fix the mess.
"He is not called the 'Mad King of Gallia' for nothing." She sighed, "Still, his country has not fallen yet so he must be doing something right."
The rest of the walk was spent in awkward silence. The monarch's blush faded, replaced with an expression that could only be described as exasperated. It was clear from their interactions that this hadn't been their first meeting and that it wouldn't be the last. Despite everything he found himself pitying her; annoyances were one thing, but persistent annoyances were another matter entirely.
They arrived at her room soon enough and with nothing more than a mumbled 'please wait here' the queen stepped into her room to change, leaving him in the dark hallway. He leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms, biting back a hiss of pain as the signet ring brushed against the scar, "...I wonder how Tiffania and rest are faring?" He brought a hand across his face. He would have to ask the queen later what she planned to do with her.
The door opened and Henrietta stepped out, now wearing a more sensible thick dress and boots. Probably for the cold, he mused.
"Here. It'll be chilly outside." She offered him a jacket, which he accepted gratefully. Putting it on, he let out a sigh of relief as the thick white cloth dispelled the chill in his bones, "Since it's so early there won't be anyone save a few merchants, but people will hear if we talk loudly."
"I do not plan to attack you." He rolled his eyes, pulling up the hood to cover his head. At least it would mask his features and prevent any more mistakes, "If you are still worried about what happened when we fought that impostor then I should remind you that you attacked us first."
"Yes...I haven't forgotten." Lips pursed she began her walk to the town, Raziel following behind her.
Making her way to town had been far simpler than he had thought. They had passed a few guards on the way, but apart from a lingering look at the young monarch they did nothing. He knew that they were complacent, the queen herself said as much, but this was bizarre. No one so much as gave him a second glance, though that was to be expected given his lack of reputation.
He wondered how they would react if they knew he had been the one to drive their countrymen mad.
Another burst of something uncomfortable in his chest. More guilt. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself; drowning himself in the past would accomplish nothing. He didn't relish the events at Saxe-Gotha, but he wasn't going to brood about it either.
They stopped only when they were a fair distance into town. Henrietta looked around; apart from a few merchants half-heartedly hawking their wares and some early risers doing morning chores there was little activity, "Please take a seat there." She pointed to a bench nested close a tree. A questioning glance was her response, "I'm not going to run away. This is a rare chance so there's no shame in taking advantage."
Taking advantage of what- No, it wasn't any of his business. Trudging over to to the bench, he watched as the monarch made her way to a merchant selling some sort of food. He couldn't make out their conversation, but eventually money changed hands and she came back with two...he didn't know how to describe it. It appeared to be a pastry of some sort, though what kind he had no idea.
"Here." She offered one to him. He just stared at it, "It's not poisoned." She all but shoved it into his hands before sitting at the other end of the bench, "It's a dessert called a crepe. I've wanted to try it since I caught sight of it in town, but I didn't have a chance to do so till now." Her lips quirked up in a slight smile as she took a small bite of the confection.
Raziel brought the pastry up and sniffed it, "It has...a powerful smell." He grimaced and lowered it again. It smelled sweet...far too sweet. He could make out butter, cinnamon and other sweets stuffed into the thin bread. No thanks; his sense of taste had gotten better from when he had first gotten it but he didn't want to risk vomiting.
Next to him Henrietta continued to eat her dessert, the smile never leaving her face. It was odd...even as she enjoyed herself she still carried herself like royalty: Posture straight, head held high, legs kept together and grip practiced. No one was looking at her apart from a few curious glances and yet she still acted as if she was an actress in front of an audience.
"...I am surprised you could come out here so openly."
"Most don't know what I truly look like." She dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, "I'm not wearing my crown or my most opulent attires so they assume me to simply be another noble's daughter." She laughed softly, "I could never do this in Tristain, of course. Cardinal Mazarin would have a fit if I went out without an armed escort, especially after recent events and my 'kidnapping' more than a month prior."
"Hmm..." He tilted the crepe, a cream of some sort leaking onto the ground. It was melting, "Yes, I saw your carriage at the event two weeks prior. If I remember right all that we could glimpse was your hand waving out of the window."
"You were in the festival?"
"I lost my memory and spent time with Tiffania this past month. It is to her that I can attribute my change..." He couldn't deny that resentment bubbled inside when he had first recovered his memories, but he quickly moved past it. His time with Tiffania had passed, but he could still cherish the memories they had together. What was it Guiche used to say? 'Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all'.
...Though he wondered if he still had that mindset now that his fiancee had broken off their engagement.
"You do seem...different from when we saw each other last, aside from the obvious." She looked him up and down, "You seem almost at peace."
"And you seem all the more troubled," He pointed out.
"Just...fatigue. This past month has been an absolute nightmare..." She rubbed her forehead, "How exactly did you lose your memory?"
"...It is a long story." He clicked his tongue, "...Enough small talk then, tell me the truth: How do you know about Gwynevere and the kiln?"
"I have her soul."
Henrietta winced as he crushed the crepe in his hands. That...wasn't the most comforting answer she could have hoped for. Raziel's fists twitched, the cream dripping between his fingers. His was expression was...odd. Not angry, or at least not that she could see, but certainly troubled. He continued to look down at the smashed pastry, ignoring her offers for a handkerchief.
"Sir. Raziel, are you alright?"
"...What do you mean you have her soul?" His voice was calm, that was a start.
"Well...it's difficult to explain. I...am her reincarnation." She took a deep breath. It sounded even crazier saying it aloud, "I have no idea as to why this is but it is the truth. Shortly after the war for Albion began I received visions...it was only later that I found out that they were memories...her memories." She took a nervous bite of her crepe before tossing it away. The sweet taste did little to calm her nerves, "The memories continued until they eventually faded and now they are gone save a few hazy dreams."
"Reincarnation...?"
His next action shocked her: He laughed. It was soft, barely heard if not for the quiet lull around them, but it was unmistakable. He still refused to look at her, and she could do nothing but wait till his laughter faded.
"Is...there something amusing about all this?" She asked hesitantly.
"No...I simply think I am going mad." Another short burst of laughter, "So...you are telling me that you are Gwynevere's reincarnation...that you recovered her memories?"
"Not all of them, but yes." She nodded, "I have little idea as to why they returned at this point and I did not choose this...but it has given me knowledge that I could not have gotten otherwise." Her gaze hardened, "I remember the fall of Lordran. Not the whole story, but enough. I...I do not wish the same fate for this world and I will do anything to prevent it from repeating."
"Your predecessor ran away, if I recall correctly." His voice held more bite than he intended.
"That was her choice then. I refuse to make the same mistakes she did...not again." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Memories of her night with the impostor never stopped being painful, "...I'm surprised you believe my claims. I can't imagine my situation is very common."
"You would be surprised at what I have learned in the past few days..." He tossed the smashed pastry and wiped his hands on his pants leg, "You are not the first to make this claim...and I suspect that if this talk of cycles is true then you will not be the last."
"You mean there are others?"
"It depends on what you mean. I have met others who I had been acquainted with in Lordran." He couldn't believe he was talking to her about this... "Many of them are dead now...according to Elizabeth they were taken here in differing periods of time. She had arrived here a hundred years ago, Sieglinde sixty years, Chester eight, Ciaran fifty...there doesn't seem to be any feasible as to why they were taken in such a way. Julio posits that it is nothing more than an accident but I am reluctant to believe him."
"You mentioned Sir. Julio before. How is he involved with this?"
"He is your father."
She waited for him to say that he was merely jesting but nothing came, "Um...pardon me?" She coughed, trying to regain her composure, "Assuming I heard you right I would have to correct you on your misconception. My father is King Henry and not Sir. Julio...also we are both of the same age, so if you wish to disprove my parentage you could have used someone of a more appropriate age."
"I did not mean it literally." He rolled his eyes, "You claim to have Gwynevere's soul, and if this is the truth then you are related to Julio through your shared past. ...Julio has Gwyn's soul. He is Gwyn's reincarnation." He ignored her look of shock, "You were looking for similarities from this occurrence and the last, perhaps he will be more helpful in this regard. Besides, you should be happy to see your father once more."
"He is not my father." Her voice had turned icy, "I am not Gwynevere. I may have her soul but she is not here now, I am. I...will talk with Sir. Julio when I have a chance to do so, but until then do not mock me in such a way."
"Apologies then." He muttered half-heartedly.
"...What did Gwynevere mean to you?" He gave her a flat look, "As we both agreed she ran away from Lordran. The way you reacted to her...what made you hate her so?"
"It was not her...it was what she had done." He started slowly, "Her brother Gwyndolin used her image to trick others like myself to giving their lives to try and prolong the rule of worthless Gods. But it was not simply that. She...She had ran away, abandoning her subjects. Even Gwyndolin stayed, if nothing more than out of a perverted sense of duty to his father. She had ran to escape, caring about nothing save herself."
"With Flan...I remember all too well." She frowned. Flan, Wales...both were selfish choices, "I know I did the same and it was only because of Louise and the others that I hadn't succeeded..."
"Some things never change." He gave her a wry smile, "If it is any consolation then I do not hate you...at least not now." He cracked his neck, "The time I spent with Tiffania...Derflinger would claim that it changed me for the better and a part of me agrees."
"Tiffania...my cousin." The word sounded foreign to her. A half-Elf, and yet they shared blood...even now it still sounded unbelievable, "I talked with her briefly, but it was Sir. Julio that had explained the situation to me. Is she the reason you are so...different from before?" She unconsciously traced her neck. It was a difficult to forget even despite the time that had passed.
"
"What are your plans for her?" He did his best to keep his tone neutral. She had used Louise in this war, but...perhaps she might not repeat the same mistakes. He would not hesitate to leave with Tiffania if she tried anything but he would have preferred if it didn't come to that.
"Sir. Julio suggested that she attend the academy, that it would be the safest place for her." She took a moment to consider her words, "I agreed with him, albeit reluctantly. We have little choice and leaving her alone is far too dangerous. He told me about this Sheffield and her master...until we find out who he or she might be we can only stall for time. The children will be taken to an orphanage and cared for, worry not."
"Tiffania's ears-"
"We will give her an amulet of illusion. So long as she keeps it on her at all times it should mask her Elven features," She reassured quickly, "She will have to be careful, but it should be safe so long as she does not become careless...I will have to inform Headmaster Osmond of her situation, but I think he will understand. After that it will be solely up to her."
"You...do not plan to use her in exchange?"
She flinched as if she had been hit, "No...nor will I use Louise in such a way ever again." She bit her lower lip, "I know you have no reason to trust me but please understand that I made a mistake. I...I was blinded by my need for revenge and used my best friend like a tool...I do not wish to repeat the same mistakes again. Lady Tiffania shall be under my protection, both as a Void Mage and as family."
"We shall see then..." He wanted to trust her completely, but doubt still plagued him.
"My turn to ask a question then," She spoke up, "I heard the story from Louise and General Hawkins on what happened back in Saxe-Gotha, but I haven't heard your explanation."
"What is there to say? Louise and I tried to hold them back and failed-"
"Except you didn't," She interrupted, "The army retreated and they suffered heavy casualties. Many of the soldiers and even General Hawkins make the same claim: A monster had attacked them, drove them mad and made them kill one another." She waited, but he didn't answer, "He told me that it was a young man that had done so. That after he had drove everyone mad he had stabbed a sword into his own stomach and ran away."
"...An outlandish tale."
"One with a hint of truth, I suspect." She pressed her hands together on her lap, "It could simply be Albion's attempt to smear Tristain, but to believe it in such fervor...it must not all be false."
"What do you want me to say? That I turned into a monster and that I should be punished for my sins? If you plan to make me the sacrificial lamb to placate their fears then I suggest you not attempt anything unless you have soldiers ready to try and kill me."
"Nothing like that...but I do want an explanation."
They stared at one another, neither willing to be the first to look away, before Raziel finally released a tired breath, "Does the name Manus mean anything to you?"
"...The name has come up in her memories." It was a half-truth; Gwynevere had been told of the monstrous revenant spreading chaos through Lordran, but the details were sparse. Most of her knowledge came from Alsanna and the little details she was willing to part with. Father of the Abyss, Progenitor of Mankind...he had many names, but in the end he was nothing more than a monster that destroyed the land. Alsanna referred to him as father even as she explained that she was merely a fragment of his fractured soul along with the rest of her sisters.
"I killed him in Oolacile...but it did not end him. His soul shattered into many pieces..." Four pieces, she knew that already (though it was better she not tell him that), "...But even as the larger pieces broke off some shards remained. The fragments attempted to stitch themselves together before eventually making their way to the Undead Asylum. Humans were taken there in droves and it could feed on them with little struggle."
"What are you saying?"
"The remnant took over a corpse and created a mask, a personality to keep it safe." He tapped his chest, "I was that mask. I...hold the remnants of Manus inside and that was the monster that ravaged the army a month prior."
"Wait, that means-"
"That I am responsible for my own death?" He gave a humorless laugh, "Yes, Julio has not stopped pointing it out ever since he found out. Time in Lordran is...unstable. Individuals from the past, present and future all meet one another oftentimes without realizing it. A man you might know to be nothing more than a reclusive sorcerer could be a hundred years long dead famous scholar."
"Still, for such an event to take place..."
"It is not fate..." Raziel muttered, "Julio believes it to be a sign of the cycle breaking, but it was nothing more than chance that I ended up being responsible for my own 'birth'." Another humorless laugh, "And now here we sit, the reincarnation of Gwynevere and the remaining fragments of Manus. It is in our very nature to hate one another so I suppose that it is a miracle that we both still live."
He...didn't know of Alsanna. A part of her wanted to tell him, but she forced herself to remain silent. She would talk to Alsanna about it when she got back to Tristain, but until then it wasn't her secret to spread.
"There is your explanation...so what do you wish to do with it?"
"...How much are you in control?" Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. He showed now signs of instability but one couldn't judge by appearances.
"Derflinger has sealed the fragments. So long as I keep my mind I should remain in control." It was remarkably similar to the idea of Hollowing...except now he wouldn't be the only one to pay the price for failure, "Derflinger suggests that I place myself out of danger, but given recent events I find it rather unlikely I can keep to that course of action. I can only hope the seal holds."
"I see..."
"If you are worried that I might go mad then worry not. Ciaran will be there to kill me should I ever lose control." He looked up at the brightening sky, "Sealed or not I doubt that I have too long to live. That seal cannot last forever..."
"...I need your help." The words were soft, but he caught them easily. He looked back at her and found her unflinching gaze, "I told you before that I planned to do something about this cycle, but I can't do this alone. I...I need help." She wrung her hands together, "I have been blessed with powerful magic, but I am no warrior. You, on the other hand...well, the events of Saxe-Gotha speak for themselves."
"You consider what happened a good thing?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Not a good thing, but it was certainly effective." She shook her head, "I am not asking you to be my hero or my knight in shining armor, Sir. Raziel. If I have any hope of ending this accursed recurrence then I could think of worse help than the remnants of Manus himself." Along with Alsanna, she added silently, "The first step to this would be stopping this Sheffield along with her master. Our goals align, so why not aid one another."
"So you need a monster...?" The way he said it contained a hint of amusement.
"More a weapon, really." She admitted bluntly, "I will not lie to you: This is very likely to be dangerous, but I have no one else to turn to. Neither Louise or Lady Tiffania would be suitable for this task and you have...experience with these 'cycles'."
"Why should I believe you?" He asked back, "You have not exactly given me good reason to do so."
"I...I am aware that I have made mistakes, but I aim to do better," She replied, "I do not ask that you forgive me or that we become friends but I want you to trust me. If not for who I am then in the belief that I have far too much at stake in this to betray your trust."
"Haha...perhaps you are right." His smile was genuine this time, "I do not know how much longer I have in this world, but fine. I would rather pass on with the knowledge that I accomplished something." He nodded, "So I am a puppet once more, but at least now I can see who is pulling my strings. Fine...even if it is unlikely you will succeed...I will become your pawn. With luck I will not grow to regret this."
"You are not my slave."
"A willing pawn is still a pawn," He countered, "I am...trusting you, that should be enough."
"An agreement then." She offered him her hand, which he shook after a moment of hesitation. She had gotten used to offering her hand to kiss; even a simple handshake felt odd to her, "Perhaps together we can put an end to this."
His left hand pulsed at the contact, abyssal taint covering the limb once more. In response arcs of light ran through her palm to the tips of her fingers. He shifted slightly; it felt as if a match had been pressed to his skin, "...Our very natures are in opposition. I wonder how long this cooperation can last." He let go of her hand and stuffed it into his pocket. Hopefully no one saw that.
"Our souls don't define us, Sir. Raziel." Her hand tingled, but beyond that she didn't feel much of anything, "I believe we can work together to out an end to this madness." Just like with Alsanna...
"I wish I had your hope..." He laughed softly and and stood up. The town was beginning to wake and it was time for them to go back, "...I certainly hope that you have a more specific plan besides 'stopping the cycle'."
"I am walking blind, sorry to say." She stood up as well, "I will do my best, but with the limited information I have it will be difficult."
"The blind leading the blind...perfect."
Joseph manipulated the pieces on the chessboard, smiling to himself all the while. Sheffield still hadn't come back, but he could find some amusement in manipulating the pieces, "The queen suspects nothing..." He grabbed the offending piece and tossed it away haphazardly. He had to admit that this game was getting kind of boring: He'd given them sporting chances, and yet they never caught on.
They looked at him and saw the 'Mad King', all of the insanity but none of the intelligence. He grabbed another piece, a knight this time, before tossing it the same way. The young man she was with...he was the Undead Sheffield had talked about. He was...smaller than he expected, but if he had survived this long then he must have had some amount of skill. It would have been boring otherwise.
Cromwell's little crusade had become monotonous. Even if the army hadn't been driven back at Saxe-Gotha he would have died; dull toys had no use, after all. What else could he do now? His precious little niece no longer took his baiting and threatening his sister-in-law's life had been the domain of his daughter for quite some time now. Retreading old territory was tiresome.
Soft footsteps came from behind, "...Someone's come to visit." He hummed, turning his chair around. New visitors were always fun.
A hooded woman stood across from him, her features masked by both the shadow and her hood. It wasn't Sheffield, "Well hello there!" He grinned, hand propping up his head as he leaned back lazily, "Something I can help you with?"
"I know who you are." Her voice was unusual. It had a sort of cadence to it, seemingly echoing within the confines of the large room, "You are the one responsible for this war...the one that goaded the priest to his conquest.
"Well, well. Looks like someone's been doing their reading." He clapped slowly, mockingly, "...Well, is that it? Are you just here to tell me that you know all my dirty little secrets?" He mocked, "So what did you come here for? Blackmail? Justice? Please tell me it's something else I'm dying of boredom here."
"What reason do you have for causing this destruction?"
"Why not?" He shrugged, standing up from his seat to move past her, "Thousands dead from both Tristain and Albion and guess what? Life goes on and nothing chances." He poured wine on a pair of cups and offered one to her, "Do you drink?"
"Keep your temptations to yourself."
"A prude, huh? Oh well, more for me." He drank the red wine in one gulp and coughed. A powerful taste, "So really, what are you here for? I can't imagine you just came here to tell me that I'm a monster and then leave."
"Your destruction...it is without purpose." She traced a pale hand through the table, "You have the intelligence to do so much more, and yet you waste in this pointless chaos. What do you gain?"
"Entertainment?" He took another sip, "Frankly what I get out of this is none of your business, so you better tell me what you came here for unless you want us to stand here all day."
"Your methods are...crude, but the potential is present." She raised her head. He could see a bit more now; dark hair and a thin mouth, "If you had a purpose, it could be tempered."
"So, what? You're asking to 'join you'?"
"Perhaps." She looked right at him. Dark eyes met blue and he grinned, lowering his glass of wine, "You kill without a purpose, soon it will catch up to you. Join me and you can still do this, but with the knowledge that you do it for a greater purpose. This world is tainted, mired in sin...if it has any hope of salvation then we must start again from the beginning. A new world risen from the ashes of the old."
Ah, so she was offering him support of some kind? He had little idea of what she meant but her terms were clear - Work with her and he could continue his games along with her support. He could also make himself feel better, if he cared for it.
Joseph licked his lips and gave his answer.
"No."
The figure paused, looking at him silently. He laughed and returned to his seat, "All this talk of greater purpose and whatnot? I don't care." His smile faded, "I do what I do for my own reasons, no one else's. If I have to burn the world to get what I want then I will, but I'm not going to do it because someone else wants me to." He gave her a piercing stare, "Was there something else you wanted?"
"...You are nothing more than a wretched beast." She hissed. He rolled his eyes; it wasn't the first time he'd heard that, "Your hubris will be your end."
"Bye then." He waved her away lazily and with a single blink she was gone, a fluttering of wings signalling her exit. He would have to ask Sheffield about her when they came back; she always knew who the crazies were and how to deal with them.
Now to get back to his game.
"Ugh...where am I?" The young woman sat up, her pink hair matted to her forehead, "The hel...?" She looked around, her eyesight slowly focusing. She was...in a forest of some kind, but beyond that she couldn't make out anything else. Another wave of pain assaulted her and she groaned, gloved hands holding onto her forehead as she resisted the urge to vomit.
"Where in helheim am I?" The teen pried her hands away and winced. There was blood coating the leather, that meant she must have gotten injured. Carefully touching forehead again, she winced at the feeling of displaced skin on her fingertips. Perfect, so it was a cut of some kind. That was just what she needed; Daphne was going to give her hell for this later, and that's if she didn't lick the blood off first.
How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was travelling with that odd man and then...nothing. Brimir damn it all she had a mission, now was not the time for this! Groping around blindly, she let out another groan of frustration. Perfect, her pack was gone and her medicines along with it. She would have to deal with it until she got to the closest town. If she showed them she was a chevalier surely they would help her.
"Vent! Vent!"
She wasn't alone. Grabbing for her sword (thank Brimir it was still with her) she pointed it at the lone figure, "Hey, hold it right there!" She screamed. It was difficult to make them out over the darkness, but their attire was definitely suspicious: A garish combination of leather and cloth covering every inch of their body and exposing nothing save the pale flesh around their gray eyes.
Their reaction was quick, turning around to face her with a bow drawn. An archer of some kind, so the chances of them being a Mage were unlikely, "Wh-Who are you?" The voice was soft, muffled by cloth covering their mouth, "Did you do something to Vent?"
"I have no idea who that is or who you are." She felt lightheaded. Shaking off her dizziness, she glared harder at him to try and mask her fatigue, "Were you the one who took me here?"
"N-No...I woke up here too." The bow lowered, if only slightly, "...Look, neither of us know why we're here so attacking one another won't accomplish anything. We should calm down and talk about this."
"How do I know this isn't a trick?" Her eyes narrowed. She could feel her heart racing, but she stood her ground. Whether they were a bandit or mercenary of some kind didn't matter; she wasn't going to lay down and die here like some wretched animal.
"I woke up before you did. If I wanted to kill you I would have done it already." It lowered again, "...Look, I'm going to put my bow on the ground and put my hands up. Will that convince you I'm not here to attack you?"
"...It's a start."
At her nod the figure lowered the weapon before putting their hands up. It could have been a trick, their allies could have been waiting to ambush her right now- No, that was unlikely. As they'd said they woke up before her, so if they wanted to kill her they would have done it before. Centurion always told her to follow her gut and right now it was telling her to calm down before she worsened her injuries.
Taking a deep breath, she sheathed her sword and gave another nod, "...Alright, you can pick it up again. I'm trusting you."
"Alright..." They knelt on the ground, eyes never leaving her, "...You're injured. What happened?"
"That's what I'd like to know," She grumbled, "You said you 'woke up' here too, right?" A nod, "Do you remember what happened before that? I was...in front of a river last I recall, not ass deep in some kind of forest with a gash on my forehead."
"I...I was travelling with my friend. We set up camp to go sleep and then...I woke up here." They took a deep breath, "We were in a forest...but not one like this. Vent wouldn't abandon me so we must have gotten separated somehow."
"Abandoned or not, neither of us know where exactly we are and in my experiences a forest when it's getting dark isn't the most pleasant place to stay." She looked up at the darkening sky, "...Look, we got off the wrong foot, yeah? Sorry for being so...suspicious. It's not the first time I woke up not knowing where I was..." She brushed away the dust staining her blue longcoat, "Since neither of us know where we are why don't we work together, at least until we get out of this forest?"
"Fine by me." She could see a hint of a smile from the way their face shifted, "I...suppose introductions are in order. I am Estelle, and you are...?" Huh, so she was a girl. It was difficult to tell under all that leather...not that she had any room to talk.
She straightened herself up and tried her best to regain her composure. Knights had to uphold their reputation at all times regardless of the situation. Starting their impromptu partnership with a lie wasn't what one would call honorable but she couldn't expose her gender to anyone for fear of losing her title. She had no choice until she could see her friends again.
"I am Sir. Karin Desiree de Maillart, Chevalier of Tristain, and until we get out of this forest I suppose we're partners."
Finished. I'm going to be taking a small break for the aforementioned Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, so wish me luck in branching out a bit. I need some experience with fluff to make it less depressing and since ML is generally easier to write for it should be a win-win.
I was also going to post another example of what would happen to the story if we went with the second segment (the aforementioned cannibalism scene) but it spoiled a bit too much so I decided to cut it. Maybe later. Oh and I was going to make a reference to Raziel's attraction to Henrietta's mom, but I deleted it since it was in poor taste considering he just broke up with Tiffania.
Anyway, this is the chapter that pretty much marks the canon divergence. While some canon events will still take place, the story is going to go increasingly off-the-rails due to the characters becoming more proactive along with other factors. And since I've been introducing more and more DS characters I figured a new ZNT character wouldn't be amiss. Don't worry I promise to involve her in the overarching plot so she's not just some background character.
From here on in we split into three different directions: Reintegrating back to the academy, Henrietta's counter-steps against Joseph/The Cycle, and Karin re-orienting herself in Halk. The first leads to more conversation and character development like Tiffania's first days in school, the reunion with Louise's family etc etc; the second more action and plot like the events in Albion;and the third more exploration of things outside the scope of the current main characters like the happenings outside of Tristain.
You guys decide which one you wanna see the most and I'll see what I can do.
Guest - I don't think Raziel really needs better equipment at this point. Apart from his new unique abilities there are rarely any 'boss monsters' in Halk that requires such over the top weapons and armor. Derflinger works well enough. That and his armor is frankly useless now since he can't wear it.
Remvis - Gaining control of the Manus fragments somewhat goes against the whole 'You're not some all-powerful badass, you gotta be smart and/or tenacious if you wanna win'. Also, there's nothing TO merge: It's made abundantly clear that the fragments are either insane or mindless so a fusion would never work.
Kishinokurobi - Well presumably your soul isn't sentient and can't force you to do anything you don't like. Also, seeing as you like to throw the word 'emo' around I gotta say it - If you're looking for a happy story where friendship triumphs over all then you're reading the wrong one. A story being dark isn't the same as being emo, unless you mean to say games like Dark Souls or ZombiU are emo by virtue of them having an oppressive atmosphere.
Yes characters whine and brood, but what did you expect? It's not like they're brooding over a broken nail or not getting laid, they're brooding over events that you generally angst about like sending your best friend to die in a war or dying and going insane because someone wants its body back. Them NOT angsting would be really fucking weird.
That and most of them are teenagers; teens angst about a lot more petty shit. Henrietta's 17, Julio's 17, Louise is 16, Tiffania's 15-16 etc etc. Even if you count Raziel as an adult it'd be pretty difficult to find an adult who wouldn't angst about his situation. Besides it's not like they stop doing stuff and mope all the time just cause they angst, they still truck through despite how bad things get for them.
On the bright side at least you're not talking about boners again, so that's something.
Anon - Yes he killed the God of Death...after said God of Death killed him maybe three times first so he could memorize its tactics. The main difference is that in a lot of games dying and reloading are non-canon, simply due to the fault of the player. Dark Souls fully expects the player to die and even has consequences for such like losing souls and Humanity, making it clear this occurs in-universe. Yes a skilled player could beat all bosses on the first go without ever dying, but the average player's performance (which Raziel's is based on) has them dying dozens of times.
Raziel's main drawback is that he doesn't have this anymore in Halk. He dies it's either game over/death or he loses regardless since his opponent wins and accomplishes their objectives. Raziel is far stronger than most humans in Halk, he's just not the demigod of destruction that most RPG characters are since him dying isn't merely a gameplay concession but actually canon to the story.
Mingyu - Well it was supposed to be weird :P That and with Henrietta she's probably banking on him not being stupid enough to attack her while they're not in a combat situation, though she still takes precautions to the contrary.