Lots of drama in this chapter, though we're nearing the end of the Joseph arc so it's to be expected. Don't worry, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel ;p Hope you guys enjoy.
"Louise is gone."
The atmosphere in the room was stifling. Henrietta silently appraised the gathered individuals: Her cousin sat near the center, her gaze focused downward and her expression blank; her guardian stood at the room's corner, back against the wall and her arms crossed. It was quite clear from her body language that she didn't wish to be here but Tiffania had insisted that they join the discussion. Whether it was out of guilt or loyalty the assassin complied and here they were.
A short distance away the Valliere sisters sat side by side. Cattleya's hands were clasped together in prayer, eyes closed as she begged Father Brimir for aid. Henrietta eyed the flecks of blood lining the length of her blouse's arm and the crude bandage covering the wound. She and Raziel weren't the only ones who had been attacked, that much was at least clear. This Sheffield's control of her constructs was extraordinary if nothing else.
"This is absurd!" Eleanor yelled, her face twisted in abject fury. The eldest Valliere sister had managed to avoid getting injured, though that was more out luck than any lack of effort on Sheffield's part. The golem she had faced was far smaller than the ones that had attacked the others, or at least that's what she claimed. The remnants of the construct's body scattered around her room certainly didn't seem small by any stretch of the imagination.
"Please calm yourself, Lady Eleanor," Henrietta started, her voice strained. She needed to keep a veneer of calm and and control even in the most dire of situation, "I understand that you are-"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Her focus shifted to her and Henrietta winced at the unbridled rage in her eyes. She was no stranger to Eleanor's anger - she'd faced her fair share of lectures from her when she was a child - but this was something different. More than anger, there was disappointment in her look, and that hurt more than any admonishment, "You were the one who suggested we take her here! We should have kept her at home. At least then she would have been safe-"
"Do you honestly believe that?" The rasp in her voice surprised even her. Taking a strained cough, Henrietta tried once more to calm herself, "Sir. Raziel and I were attacked while we were in the heart of the palace. This 'Sheffield' put all of my guards to sleep seemingly without effort and her constructs seem to have no limit. She would have been no safer in the Valliere estate than the academy."
Her gaze wandered to her best friend's Familiar. Raziel had been quiet ever since they gathered, ignoring the various cuts and gashes across his body. After that woman had given them her 'warning' he had attacked her, ignoring the futility of such an action. She didn't blame him; she was halfway to casting her own spell when he charged at the construct. The woman's smug laughter only worsened her feelings of anger.
Of course she decided that made it 'fair' to attack them. There were only a dozen more constructs in the grounds, so it wasn't overtly dangerous by any means. She was ashamed to admit that he had done most of the fighting; despite her magic her skill in combat was poor at best. Regardless it was a clear reminder to her that the other Void Familiar was capable of killing them whenever she wished. It was only her master's perverse sense of 'fair play' that allowed them to survive.
"Queen Henrietta is correct, Lady Eleanor," Julio interjected. For once the priest's smile was absent, his expression decidedly grim. Whether he had been attacked she had little inkling. He had, after all, made it clear they were both blessed with the healing of their predecessors, "We had gotten complacent, I will not deny that, but this outcome was...it was ultimately inevitable regardless of our efforts."
"So you're saying this was all pointless?" It was Cattleya who spoke. Her voice was hoarse, and the glare she gave the priest was chilling, "I...I refuse to believe that there was nothing we could have done to keep her safe."
"Much as I hate surrender, I must agree with Sir. Julio..." Henrietta murmured, "Unless we catch this woman and her master they will continue to toy with us and we can only try and defend ourselves." She released a frustrated breath, "She could be watching us right at this moment and we have no idea. She certainly seems to be aware of our actions despite whatever attempts at secrecy we attempt."
Sending Agnes and the Vampire twins to guard them outside was pointless. Sheffield wouldn't fight them directly; she would have bypassed her sentries entirely if her master so much as wished it.
"No one is watching," Ciaran spoke, her first words since the meeting began, "Quelara uses birds and other animals as her spies. Hiding in plain sight." She closed the window's curtain roughly, "There were no animals outside when I surveyed the area. Watch for smaller vermin such as rats or even insects. We know not the limits of her constructs but her capabilities make it a possibility."
"Thank you..." Henrietta said softly. It was a start, at the very least, but it wasn't enough. How far did her connections reach? Julio had posited that her master was likely to be in Gallia or Germania, so could she send her constructs and control them across continents? It sounded absurd even to her, but she'd long since stopped doubting even the seemingly insane possibilities.
"So that's it then...?" Eleanor looked at each of them in turn, her rage being replaced with fatigue, "Louise is gone and we're just supposed to accept it like that?"
"That's not what I said, Lady Eleanor." Henrietta shook her head, "I told you before that I wanted to find her master and I still intend to do so. We find whoever is pulling this woman's strings and we can recover Louise." Or her corpse, she thought bitterly. She didn't wish to think of that outcome, but it was certainly a possibility. But even if Louise was...even if she passed from this world she would make both of them suffer dearly for their machinations. She didn't care if it was wrong; if they so much as touched a hair on her best friend's head they would end up wishing for death to claim them.
Now all they needed to do was think of a plan. It wouldn't be long before they were attacked again and they needed something more than running in blind.
"...Sea of masks."
All attention was drawn to the Undead. He looked to Henrietta and spoke once more, "She left a message at the gate of the academy. The words were of the language of Lordran mixed with her own cypher."
"You saw that as well, then?" Julio questioned, "I took note of it myself, but the language of the Witches is unknown even to Gwyn. I had assumed it to be nothing more than a taunt left by her, knowing that we could not decipher the message."
"No...she knew we would have figured it out eventually." His clenched hands shook in barely restrained anger, "It certainly was a taunt, but also a clue." He tapped the table, "'I will take the next daughter in the sea of masks, when her true self is hidden behind the illusion of the one she admires the most'...a riddle to when she will attempt to take Tiffania again." His gaze softened as he looked to his close friend, "Another part of her game, there is no doubt of that. We need to keep you safe."
"P-Please don't worry about me. Louise is the one who's in danger..." Tiffania forced a smile. She was crippled, but at least she was still here and still alive. For that she could be thankful for.
"Why did you not say this earlier?" Ciaran's eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.
"I had to search Manus' memories for knowledge of the language. The words of the denizens of Izalith are not inherently known to me, assassin." He clicked his tongue in frustration, "Still, the answer to this riddle is something I am not aware of. 'Sea of masks'...does it mean anything to any of you?"
"Masks could mean anything..." Henrietta muttered. It could have been a physical disguise, it could have been the mask one put up when placed in differing situations, "What did she mean by illusion, however? A trick of the eyes caused by the mask?"
"No...what if she meant it literally?" Eleanor placed a hand on her chin, brows furrowed in concentration, "As much as a mask covers it cannot be mistaken for a true face. And what did she mean by 'one she admires the most'. A mask is meant to keep your face covered, not change it entirely. To change someone's appearance to someone they admired the most they would need..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes widening.
"...Something to share, Lady Eleanor?" Julio questioned.
"The ball of Sleipnir, she must be referring to that." She nodded to herself, "Sea of mask and illusions...the point of the ball is that the 'Liar's Mirror' can change you to the one you admire the most for the duration of the gala. It fits with the warning more than anything else and as a student Tiffania would have been present for the event. She would have been taken then, I'm sure of it."
The room grew silent at her conclusion. If she was correct, if the ball was the next time they would get attacked, then they finally had a chance to prepare rather than being attacked while their guard was down. Henrietta chewed on her lower lip in thought; it was unlikely for Sheffield to be present, but if they could trace one of her constructs back to her then there was a chance they could determine her origins.
"Then we keep her far away from this gala." Ciaran announced, breaking the silence.
"I doubt that will work, Sir. Ciaran," Julio sighed, "Miss. Sheffield has made it quite clear that she could take what she wants if she so much as wished it. It's only her master's insistence that this 'game' be continued that we continue to still draw breath...well, most of us." He gave Raziel a small smile. The Undead rolled his eyes and muttered a curse at him, "Keeping Miss Tiffania locked in her room will accomplish nothing, sad as I am to admit."
"Then what do you suggest, G- Priest?" She scowled at the near-slip of the name, "That we let her attend the ball and be taken?"
"Not taken, but she should attend regardless..." Henrietta said, "Right now this Sheffield has no idea that we have knowledge of her next attack. If we spirit Tiffania away she will find her and our only chance to get Louise back disappears forever."
"She left that taunt for a reason. She would have known we would decipher its meaning eventually." Raziel muttered.
"It's not a certainty, and it's more than we've had since this conflict started." She countered. Taking a deep breath she looked to her injured cousin, "Tiffania, I hate to ask this of you, but..." She grimaced, trying to choose her words carefully, "Assuming Lady Eleanor is correct then the ball is the one time we know exactly when she will attack. I need for you to attend while we stay hidden in the crowd. With luck we can stop her plans and gain an idea as to where Louise had been taken."
"You wish to her as bait." Ciaran hissed, scowling at the monarch, "Princess Tiffania has suffered enough. She does not need to be-"
"I'll do it." Tiffania took a deep breath and nodded, "All I have to do is attend the ball, yes? I can do that..."
"Princess Tiffania, you're putting yourself in unneeded risk." Ciaran argued, stepping closer to her ward, "Already you've lost use of your legs because of this woman and now you wish to place yourself in danger once more? I will not allow it-"
"I didn't ask for your permission!" She snapped, causing the older woman to flinch at the harshness of her tone, "I...Louise must have saved me, I'm sure of it. I fainted when that...that thing tried to take me and it wouldn't have dropped me without a reason. Louise must have...she must have helped me somehow, I just know it." She took another nervous breath, "I can't just stay here knowing that. Even if it puts me at risk then I'm willing to take that chance if it means bringing her back. You don't have to help me...but I would appreciate your help again."
"Princess..."
"If we are to agree to this then we need to heal Miss Tiffania." Julio cut in, "My miracles should be able to help her in walking once more. The healing will not be instantaneous, but she should be capable of movement once again by the time of the Sleipnir's ball in three weeks time." He looked to Henrietta, "Is this acceptable, Your Majesty?"
"Yes. Thank you, Sir. Julio."
"We need to make preparations then..." uttered Raziel, "Ciaran, are you willing to aid us in this?"
"It seems I have little choice in the matter," She scoffed, "Fine then. When this event comes to pass you can count on my assistance."
"Ours as well." Eleanor announced, Cattleya nodding silently by her side.
Henrietta looked at each of them in turn before nodding, a look of determination on her features, "Then I suppose that we must make haste then. In three weeks time we will find our Louise's whereabouts or die trying."
Louise awoke to a burning pain on her shoulder.
Jolting up in shock, she looked around frantically, "Wh-Where..." She bit back a hiss as the wound on her shoulder flared, the feeling of warm blood unmistakable. Raising a hand, she pawed at the wound gingerly and winced. A tight bandage had been used to cover the cuts, but her movements had re-opened the injury. She could only hope that it was nothing major.
Her curiosity abated, her eyes began to take in the room's features in earnest. She was sitting in a chair, the cream colored material clearly of a fine make. In front of her there was a plate of assorted food, the aromas tantalizing after having just woken up from her forced sleep. There was no sunlight, the only sources of illumination being the bright lamps and chandeliers lined around the large room.
Across the large table a figure sat, his features emphasized by the bright lights. It was difficult to tell his exact age through her groggy vision but his attire was enough for her to get an idea: A mix of blue and white cloths of well make, a lining of pale fur covering the outfit's neck. Furs of that quality were rare, a luxury only the more well-off nobles could afford. Whoever this man was he was no commoner by any means.
His hands moved, grabbing his utensils with practiced grace as he cut into his meal. Louise blinked and tried to shake away the blurry spots in her vision. Whoever he was he seemed content to ignore her, so perhaps-
"You're not going to eat? The head chef worked very hard for this meal."
Well, so much for that. Blinking once more, she took a deep breath as her vision finally began to fully clear. Yes, he was definitely a noble of some sort: The intricate designs of his attire were clear for all to see and his features were refined, the trimmed blue beard and hair framing emphasizing his handsome countenance. The smile he held was pleasant, almost warm.
It was a face she recognized, "...K-King Joseph?" She blanched. What was he doing here? The last time she'd seen him he was in Albion discussing - though Ann would have said he was 'distracting from' - the peace treaty. She took another look around her. Where in helheim was she? Last she checked she was in Tristain and the sun was still high in the sky. Now she could see the twin moons rising through the large windows.
"Oh, thank goodness. I thought the cat had your tongue for a second there." He grinned.
"Wh-What's going on? Where am I? What are you doing here?" She sputtered. This made no sense; did he save her from that woman? If so, why?
"Lots of questions, huh? Well, I suppose it's only right that I answer." He clasped both hands together, placing his chin atop the steepled fingers, "Well, you're here because Sheffield invited you and your friend over to this little soiree..though I'm afraid to say your friend couldn't attend considering your little stunt." He shrugged good-naturedly, "Ah well, no harm done. I'm sure we can find ways to entertain ourselves with just the two of us."
"Wh-What!? You-"
"To answer your second question, you're in Gallia. The capital of Lutece and the royal palace of Versailles if we're being specific." He continued, ignoring her look of utter outrage, "As for why I'm here...well, I am the king so of course it stands to reason that I live in the palace. Never heard of a king that didn't." He waved a hand airily, "I do apologize for Sheffield's crudeness. I told her to be gentle but she's always been a bit of a rough girl. Ah well, we don't choose our Familiars, eh? Both of us have to deal with our partners eccentricities."
Her hands shot to her side only to be met with empty air. Her wand, where was her wand!?
"Looking for this?" Joseph called, lazily swinging her foci with his free hand, "Come now, I may be the 'Mad King of Gallia' but I'm no fool. Guests don't need wands when they're having dinner with friends, so..."
"Don't you dare!" She couldn't stop herself from slamming her fist on the table as the monarch took her wand between his hands and snapped it in two. The sound of breaking wood was deafening in the empty hall and the roaring cheer of his amused laughter only worsened her rage. A hand snaked its way to the utensils, gripping the dulled knife in a vice-like hold. Could she run to where he sat and stab him before he realized it? ...Risky, but she was honestly tempted to try it.
"Well, that's that then." He tossed the broken catalyst away carelessly and yawned, "You know I usually don't have meals so early in the morning, but it was such a special occasion that I thought why the heck not? I wanted to greet you personally...again, terribly sorry for the rough invitation. I really need to teach that Familiar of mine better manners when it comes to handling guests."
"You bastard-"
"Now, now, there's no need for such crude language." He eyed the knife she held in her tiny fist, "What are you planning to do with that? If you're planning to kill me then I at least suggest the fork; it's much sharper than the bread knives we have here." He grabbed his own fork, fingers tapping at the ends, "Though I would also suggest you refrain from doing that. Sheffield is rather overprotective and I suspect that if you even attempt to go through your half of the table she'd rush in here like a vengeful spectre. That would ruin the mood, don't you think?"
"..." Quietly seething, the young Void Mage released the metal and let it fall on the the table with a large clang. Reluctantly she sat, her eyes never leaving the figure on the other end of the table.
"My, you glare with such intensity." He held up his hands in mock horror, "What was that saying...'If looks could kill'?"
"If you're going to kill me then...then just do it already!" Her hands shook, but she did her best to let no fear show on her face. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction, "If you think I'm afraid of you then you're going to be disappointed. I won't cower or beg."
"Alright, well first of all I don't want to kill you. Like I said I wanted to invite you both to this little get-together, and corpses make very poor company. Trust me, I tried." He picked up his utensils and began to dig into his meal again, "Second, you're very scared. Heck, you're practically quaking in your boots! It's almost adorable." A cheeky grin wormed its way out, "Third, even if I did want to kill you I wouldn't do it over breakfast. That's just rude."
"You attacked us...!"
"I prefer to think of it as more of a game. I mean, if I really wanted to attack you...well, you'd be choking on your own blood and teeth right now." The way he said it was light, almost as if he was describing the beauty of a painting, "So no, I didn't 'attack' you. If I was you would know about it." He chuckled, "I suggest you dig in. Trust me, we have a lot to talk about and we don't wanna do it on an empty stomach."
"..." She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Fine then, suit yourself." He shrugged, "Let's talk first then. Now, after this soiree you're going to need living arrangements. I thought about putting you in the dungeon at first, but that was boring." He took a bite out of the roast duck, "That and it's no way to treat guests and I'm nothing if not a gracious host, so here's what we're going to do." He leaned forward excitedly, "You stay here at the palace with me. So long as you don't try to escape you can do whatever you want. Think of it like...an extended residence, so to speak. A vacation from all your schoolwork."
"And if I try to leave...?"
"Then the guards kill you where you stand," He answered casually, "It's not that hard to grasp, really. I'm not a strict man, you can ask my daughter about that, but even I have my limits. Just as long as you don't leave you'll be treated like royalty."
"...I think I'd prefer the dungeon."
"Haha, trust me, you really wouldn't. Sheffield does her little projects down there and the smell can be really bad when she forgets to clean up." He plugged his nose, laughing at his own 'joke', "I really do suggest eating something, though. The head chef worked really hard on this meal when I told him it was a special occasion. Honey roasted duck is a specialty of his."
She didn't bother replying verbally, contenting herself with stabbing the knife into the meat and pretending it was his face. She cut apart the glazed meat roughly, ignoring all of her lessons in etiquette, and shoved it into her mouth. Much as she hated to admit it she was starving and it did little to hurt herself in the process. She didn't worry for possible poison; like he said if he wanted to kill her she'd already be dead.
"So how is it?"
Delicious. Her free hand clenched and she resisted the urge to verbalize that thought. It was petty, she knew that, but she didn't want to even a single inch to the bastard. He had attacked them, sent that woman to endanger their lives and attempted to take both her and Tiffania. She could at least take comfort in the knowledge that her friend was safe and away from his grasp for now. Raziel would protect her, she knew that.
Before she knew what she was doing she spat the succulent roast into the floor, "...It tastes horrible." Her stomach rumbled at the sudden deprivation but she ignored it. She couldn't hurt him, she knew that, but if it meant wiping that smile off his face then she would lower her standards.
His expression never changed, much to her annoyance. Instead he leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at the sudden act, "Is that so?" He looked up for a moment before nodding, "Well, I thought it was delicious, but far be it for me to correct my guest." He clapped his hands, "Right, so how should we correct this grievous offense? Firing him doesn't seem enough...right, execution it is then."
Louise's eyes widened as he rang a small bell at his side. A few minutes of silence passed before two golems marched in rigidly, both holding onto a middle aged man's arms and holding him in place. The fear in the man's face was palpable and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"I-I-Is something wrong, Your Grace?" He swallowed nervously, sweat dripping from his bare head.
"Yes, Reginald, something is very wrong." Joseph clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval, "I made it very clear that this was a special event and that you should be at your best. You told me you would be at your most excellent, yes?"
"Y-Yes I did-"
"And yet my guest was disappointed with your work. Why, she spit the duck on the floor!" He eyed the chewed up food distastefully, "Is that the kind of meal you serve to an honored guest? I'm disappointed." He tutted, wagging his finger playfully, "Now, you know the consequences-"
"P-Please, Lord Joseph! I-"
"W-Wait!" Louise stood and slammed both hands on the table, ignoring the pain that run up her arm at the contact, "Don't kill him! Please!"
Joseph gave her a look of startled confusion, "Why not? You said that it was disgusting. What else is there to say?"
"It wasn't..." She bit her lip. She could have kept quiet, said nothing and let it continue, but she knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did that, "It wasn't disgusting. I...I lied, it was delicious."
The monarch's mouth parted for a moment before he spoke once more, "So you lied to me?" She nodded. He turned back to the bound man, "Well...this is awkward." He rubbed the back of his head and laughed, "So, can we just forget about this, Reggie? You don't mind if I call you Reggie, do you? I think it fits very well."
"N-No, of course not, Your Grace." The shaking man answered.
"Good...you can go now." He tapped the man's cheeks playfully and rang the bell again, the constructs 'escorting' him out to a chorus of 'thank yous'. Louise felt her breath quicken as his attention was drawn back to he, "...I will admit that I'm disappointed, Louise. I mean here I am trying to be a gracious host and you lie to my face, saying my food is bad and nearly causing me to kill poor Reggie. The man has a family, you know? Their children would've been devastated if I sent his corpse over there."
Normal people didn't threaten to kill someone for botching a meal, but she kept that thought to herself. If she persisted he might take him and his entire family and execute them.
"So the food was delicious, yes?"
"Y-Yes..." She didn't like the look on his face.
"Then let's not waste any of it, shall we? After all Reggie worked so hard for it and I wouldn't want to disappoint him." Says the man who attempted to murder the poor man, she noted bitterly, "I think it only proper you eat everything."
Her face contorted in disgust as the implications set in, "You want me to eat to..."
"Eat it off the floor, yes." He sat back down and chewed, "You did say it was delicious, after all, and it's your fault it's down there." The smile returned, "That is of course unless you want to bring Reggie back here and say that his duck is disgusting in which case-"
"N-No, I'll do it..."
She knelt down and took the chewed lump of meat in her hand, sucking in a nervous breath as the saliva - her saliva, she reminded herself - seeped into her fingers. Gingerly she wiped it against her uniform in an attempt to remove at least some of the dirt. Everything was screaming at her to drop it or, better yet, throw it in the smug bastard's face, "...You can do this." No, if she did that then that man would be at risk once more, and all for the sake of her pride.
Trying her best not to think about it, she tossed the meat into her mouth and chewed, gagging slightly at the dry taste against her tongue. She swallowed forcefully and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to vomit. A momentary discomfort for a man's life, it was more than a fair trade. Her hand grabbed for the chalice and she drank, trying to wash away the taste.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Joseph chuckled, hands moving in a slow clap. He saw the tears of embarrassment spilling from the girl's eyes and grinned.
He had a feeling they would get along just fine.
This was a bad idea.
Raziel eyed the wooden door warily, hand frozen on the knob. Cattleya's room lied on the other end, a place he had no business being in. He could turn around right now, forget whatever caused him to think that she would want someone - least of all him - to talk to about her problems. He was no stranger to dealing with problems in solitude, and if he could survive doing such then she could as well.
And yet he stayed, his legs refusing to turn and leave. She would be furious with him, she would think him presumptuous for assuming that he of all people could...could comfort her in her moment of weakness. But he couldn't leave, not without making sure she was alright, without seeing how she coped with the loss of her beloved younger sister. She had comforted him in his time of trouble and it was only prudent he return the favor.
With a deep breath, he twisted the knob and stepped inside.
Darkness was the first thing to greet him. It took him only seconds to adjust to the lack of light and see through the shadows, "...Hello?" He called warily, stepping inside with as much grace as he could muster and closing the door behind him. Despite their infrequent talks he had only been here twice, once to talk with her in idle chit-chat and another to check up on her bonfire. Beyond that he never really spent time here.
Despite that, however, he immediately knew something was wrong by the lack of greeting. Both times he had been here the room had been filled with her various pets, or as she called them her 'companions'. And yet now the room was barren, everything from the largest bear to the smallest kitten missing from their designated spots. Even the bonfire held no light, the sword lying haphazardly in a forgotten corner of the room.
The rooms lone occupant was lying on the bed, her face pressed against the mattress. He hesitated briefly before taking another step, the sound echoing inside the dark room. Despite the time - a few hours till sunrise if he was correct - it was quite evident that she was still awake. He could hear her choked sobs, the muffled apologies she muttered. He felt a prick in his chest and sighed.
He didn't know her as well as he did his other friends, but in the short time he'd known her he knew that her happiness wasn't a complete facade. She held a certain bitterness due to her experiences but her smile was genuine when the mask was taken away. She loved Louise, he did as well, but he had become numb to loss. For her...this must have been a nightmare, to be so uncertain of her sister's fate.
Another step and her sobbing halted, replaced by a gasping breath. Sitting up on the bed, she wiped at her face frantically and swallowed audibly to try and mask her previous actions.
"...It is only me." He held up his hands for a moment.
"Oh...hello, Raziel." She turned to face him and he winced. It was brief, one might have even chalked it up to a mistake of the eyes, but he saw the scowl on her face, the hate in her eyes when she looked at him. As quick as it went it disappeared, leaving nothing but the depressed husk of a woman sitting on the bed, "...Shouldn't you be asleep? It's late..." She shifted on the bed, trying to make herself more comfortable.
"I could say the same for you..." He hesitated once more before sitting at the bed's side, maintaining a respectful to the grieving woman, "...I could not sleep and I had a feeling you would be the same." Tabitha wasn't in their room either, off on an errand of some kind. Perhaps he simply needed someone to talk to, someone to keep his thoughts from drifting to the worst possibilities his mind conjured.
"Why don't you visit Tiffania? She might appreciate your company more."
He looked away at the indirect rejection. She didn't want him here and he couldn't blame her. He had promised her he would protect Louise and yet he was cavorting with Vampires and Musketeers fighting Darkwraiths instead. He had grown complacent, underestimating the witch despite his words of caution. A mistake he wasn't keen on making again the next time they met face to face.
"Tiffania is...I doubt my presence will be comforting for her." He gave her a strained smile. No, that wasn't right. Whether he would have helped her or not wasn't what made him stay away; he was avoiding her, trying to dodge the guilt he felt whenever he saw her confined to a chair. Julio was attempting to heal her now and he was thankful for that, but knowing she would be used as bait again clawed at him even if he knew it meant getting Louise back.
She said nothing, tucking her knees into her chest and humming softly to herself. He looked back at her before letting out a soft, bitter laugh. She blamed him for not being there, for not protecting her sister. If he had been here instead of doing the monarch's tasks...well, he would have been deluding himself if he claimed to be able to defeat her all on his own but perhaps he could have done something.
Regrets rarely lingered in Lordran. At one moment a friend could turn on you either out of Hollowing or desperation; you learned to discard your grief, placing it below the need for survival. He could ignore his grief and focus on the upcoming ball, but he found it increasingly difficult to do so as the uncertainty arose.
"...Why weren't you there?" She asked softly, still refusing to face him.
"I was doing another task for the Queen...I have no excuse."
He stayed silent as he felt a powerful grip on his shoulders. Twisting him around, he was met with Cattleya's tear-stained face glaring at him fiercely, "That's not good enough! You said you would protect Louise, that you would be there for her when she needed you! You should've been at her side, maybe then she wouldn't have been...have been..."
She broke down once more, her grip loosening as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She turned away from him and pressed her head against her knees, trying to stifle her sobs. Raziel reached out a hand to comfort her before pausing, lowering it with a sigh. She didn't need him to comfort her and he didn't resent her for her accusations. He'd told her beforehand that he would be absent due to his pact with the monarch, but she needed someone to blame. No doubt she blamed herself as well, but he knew more than anyone that self-deprecation was never enough.
It was only when her sobs turned to more manageable sniffles that she finally decided to speak again, "...I'm sorry, I know it's not your fault." She took a calming breath, and turned to face him, "I was here as well and I couldn't do anything to protect her, it's not fair that I blame you for her being taken."
"I understand...hate me if you wish, but please do not give up." He smiled once more, a gesture she reciprocated after a moment of hesitation. It contrasted greatly with her red eyes and clammy skin, but it was a start, "When this ball starts we will get Louise back. I am not certain as to how as of yet, but I refuse to continue as the witch's plaything any longer."
"You make a bold claim, but somehow I believe you." She laughed softly.
"...How are your injuries? I heard you and Ciaran had been attacked as well." He eyed the blood on the blouse's sleeve. Despite the time that had passed she'd evidently decided changing into more appropriate clothing wasn't a priority.
"It's nothing. Miss Ciaran did most of the fighting for both of us." She pulled back the blouse's sleeve, exposing the bloodstained bandages for him to see. She could have healed it with water magic, but what was the point? It wasn't as if the wound was debilitating.
She bit back a hiss as he touched it gently, fingers gliding across the length of the cloth before stopping at the end, "...I am sorry." His smile faded into a pained sigh, "I...I know that you may not care for it, but I am here if you need me." He took his hand in hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze, "I am not one for comforts and the like, but if you ever need anything please do not hesitate to ask. I shall-"
His words were drowned out as she pulled him into an abrupt kiss. His eyes widened for a moment before his arms circled around her back and pulled her close, deepening the contact. The gesture wasn't soft or sweet, not like the ones he'd shared with Siesta or Tiffania. It was rough and desperate, her hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as if afraid he would let go of her.
Eventually her grip slackened, a hand taking hold of his wrist gently to guide his hand towards her breast. As soon as his hand made contact with the voluminous globes of flesh he squeezed, earning him a soft moan from the pink haired woman. Memories filtered back through his mind, both of the time he spent as himself and the 'conquests' Manus had done in his own lifetime. It was clear what it was that she wanted.
He should have pushed her away, asked for her reasons for doing such an act, but as her mouth parted and her tongue collided with his own he felt all sense of reason leaving him.
Eyes closing, he pushed her down on the bed and began to unbutton his shirt.
Henrietta looked at the dark liquid sloshing around the glass for a moment before pressing the chalice against her lips, the smoky taste of the whiskey powerful on her tongue as she forced the alcohol down. She felt her throat burn, the smoky flavor of the drink shooing away any notion of going back to sleep. Whiskey wasn't a spirit she preferred, but at this point wine wasn't enough to dull her senses.
She'd promised herself to that she would give up on her vices when she saw Louise's name on the list of the dead, but now the temptation was too great. Pouring herself another glass, she took another large gulp of the drink as her cheeks flushed more and more. It was shameful, she knew that, but there was nothing else she could do. She was helpless, simply waiting for that woman to make her next move and all the while her best friend could have been dead already.
She took one last sip before all but slamming the chalice against the table, her breaths ragged. She should have been asleep or preparing for the upcoming gala, but instead she was here, drinking her problems away like a common lout. Oh if only her mother and Cardinal Mazarin could see her now. They had no idea of the problems she faced day by the day, of the crushing truth she'd been privy to. She was beginning to miss the days where her only worries were backstabbing nobles and power grabs born out of greed. At least that was simple and well-known.
A slight chill overtook the room. Grunting in acknowledgement, she lazily turned to look at Alsanna. She'd been gone far longer than normal, though she wasn't worried. The ghostly woman could take care of herself.
Now, however, her usual calm was replaced by a noticeable panic. Henrietta raised an eyebrow as the abyssal shard paced, hands on her head and muttering incoherently to herself. Whatever it was that had sent her into such a fit she wasn't in the mood to hear it, "...Something the matter, Alsanna?" She had to commend herself for not slurring the words out. Lessons in etiquette were hard to dismiss even now.
"She is here..." She gave her a haunting stare, "Nashandra...the disciples sacrifice innocents in her name. She offers them power and blessings and they take the Humanity of their fellow man in order to sate their lust."
"What...What are you talking about?" She pinched the bridge of her nose to try and focus herself, "My apologies, Alsanna, but please make sense. I cannot decipher your ramblings."
"Nashandra, one of my sisters, she is here." There was genuine fear in her friend's voice, something she'd never heard before, "The disciples worshipped a mural, sacrificed on the altar in her name...she is here, and she hungers."
"Sir. Raziel told me about the Darkwraiths. Is it not possible that they sacrificed for a dead deity? It wouldn't be the first time..."
"Perhaps, but there was a certainty in their actions. We must be cautious." She looked outside the window, the glass freezing at her touch, "I shall search once more, look for signs of her influence or those of the rest of my sisters. If they are truly present, then we must be wary."
"Alsanna...I can't." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "My best friend, Louise, she's been taken. Until she returns, I...I can't just ignore her situation, you must understand. Until this Sheffield woman is dealt with I cannot divert my attention...I'm sorry."
"You know of the threats the Darkwraiths pose, of the victims they leave in their wake. ...Please, I cannot stop them on my own. You made a vow to stop the cycle from consuming this land. Even if you save your friend it shall all be for naught if the wheel continues to turn unabated in its path."
"I...'
"I shall return when I have discovered more. I beg that you reconsider; if Nashandra truly has returned, all will be returned to the abyss."
Henrietta said nothing as Alsanna left. Picking up the chalice once more, she swirled the whiskey inside before throwing it against the wall with a frustrated yell. Her closest friend taken, an unknown puppetmaster pulling that woman's strings, and now another primal evil of some sort determined to drag their world to some foretold doom. It was enough to make one go insane.
That had been...unexpected.
Knees tucking into his chest, Raziel rubbed his arms across his bare shoulders and shivered. Due to his 'condition' he was less affected by the changes in temperature compared to others around him, and yet right now he felt for all the world as if he had been bathed in ice, "Perhaps I should ask Derflinger about this later..." Gritting his teeth, he let out a soft breath and looked to his companion sharing the bed.
Next to him Cattleya stirred, turning to face him while her eyes remained closed. She was still asleep, which he supposed was a small blessing all things considered. He didn't know if he was capable of discussing...what had just transpired. Looking over her again, he felt a heat rise to his cheeks as she shifted once more, the swell of her breasts peeking from underneath the cover of the blanket. Taking another breath, he pulled the warm cloth till it reached her neck. There were a lot of things he needed to think about and her mammaries were not at the top of that list.
He was no fool. The sort of intimacy they had engaged in was usually reserved for a pair of lovers, and yet that wasn't what they were. While he lacked experience himself, Manus' memories were more than enough to paint a picture of her reasons: A distraction from her grief, momentary pleasure in order to dull the pain. He didn't fault her for it; he couldn't deny that a part of him felt the same way, that for those brief moments of bliss Louise had passed from his mind and he felt almost happy. He had attempted the same in Albion, after all.
Of course now that it was over his regret bubbled back to the surface.
He raised a hand in front of him, twisting it to and fro. He was surprised she had managed to persist in the act despite his...limitations. He wasn't blind: Despite Julio's insistence to the contrary he was well-aware of how malformed he appeared. A body like a child, skin that chilled at the touch...her grief must have been substantial if she was willing to stomach through all of that and engage in such an act of intimacy with him.
He felt trapped in this body, like an animal that had been caged in a pen far too small for its form. Ever since he'd first 'woken up' he had stolen his face from others, first from that unlucky warrior in the asylum, then Julio and finally...this. Doing such an act when he wasn't certain if he even felt like the body was his was...disconcerting. He didn't fault Derflinger for the change, he knew it could have been worse all things considered, but it was only now that he was reminded of its deficiencies.
"Haa..." A sigh passed his parted lips. He still remembered the tears that flowed even as they kissed, the cries that only abated when they had deepened their intimacy. He wished he could have done more for her, but he couldn't get Louise back just by wishing for it. This wasn't how he imagined he would experience such an act - by the void he didn't think he would ever experience it period - but what was done was done. The reason being due to trauma and grief was at least consistent with how everything was going.
At least she seemed to have calm down. Allowing himself to smile, he traced the back of his hand across the sleeping woman's cheeks gently. Due to his warped physiology the act itself was somewhat different than one might expect, but he at least hoped that it was comforting for them both. He would make no claim to expertise in matters of this regard but...well, instinct and Manus' memories were enough for him to get a rough picture of the basics.
Shaking his head, he stood up as silently as he could and readjusted his trousers and boots to try and appear normal. Looking around for a moment, he picked up their discarded clothes and put hers at the bedside, another blush dusting his cheeks as he saw her underwear on the pile. He held no special interest in undergarments or nudity, though he supposed it was only normal to feel a hint of apprehension after his actions.
Folding them quickly, he picked his own shirt from the pile and put it on haphazardly. Discussing this with her later was not something he was looking forward to, but he didn't have to deal with it right now. Watching the sun rising through the horizon, he walked to the door and opened it before looking at her one last time, "...Pleasant dreams, Cattleya." He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
"...You too, Raziel."
Inside her room, Tabitha looked down at her most recent letter and tried to stop herself from crumpling it in her hands. The latest letter, this time from her 'beloved uncle'. She had expected him to assign her to another suicide mission like her 'dear cousin', but the contents were much worse than that.
Hands shaking, she read through it again to make sure she was mistaken, "...Damn it." She closed her eyes and let out a strained breath. She wasn't seeing things: That woman had taken Louise and now she planned to take that Tiffania girl too. The Ball of Sleipnir...she wanted her to act as a distraction for any who planned protecting her.
She knew at least that Raziel be there. No doubt Isabella relayed their previous interaction and they had done this deliberately in order to out herself as a traitor.
It was right after she had placed the paper against the fire of her lamp that her roommate entered, looking noticeably disheveled. She raised an eyebrow at his odd state but decided not to question it; no doubt it was due to panic from Louise's kidnapping.
"Oh, Tabitha...I did not realize you were back." He gave her minuscule smile and sat on his mattress, "I...you have heard of what happened, yes?"
"With Louise? Yes." She looked away from him. If she had doubts on her visage she didn't wish for him to see it, "Are you okay?"
"...Of course not." He muttered, "Louise has been taken and we are running blind . Our only hope is to catch the woman who took her off-guard, try and get her back before any true harm can come to her." He ran a hand through his messy hair, "...Actually, I need to ask you something."
"What is it...?"
"Could you..." He sighed frustatedly, "Could you help us with taking Louise back? I-I know that it does not concern you, but we need all the assistance we can afford. I will tell you the details of it if you agree, just...please help me." He clasped his hands together, "The Witch will expect us, but she has little idea of who you are. Perhaps with your aid we can finally catch her off-guard."
The hand holding her staff shook, but her expression remained impassive. Sheffield had told her to gather as much intelligence as she could and rejecting his proposal would only hurt her and keep herself in the dark about their plans.
"I'll help you."
From behind her she heard the Undead laugh, a sound she wasn't used to hearing in the time she'd spent with him, "Thank you...I know that you have little stake in this. I promise to repay you for this, whatever it is that you need. I...I am certain that there are more Divine Blessings out there somewhere and if you so wish it I will not rest till I find one again."
Technically she owed him considering the effort he went through to get her the last bottle. That he didn't try to use that to coerce her spoke volumes of his desperation.
"No need. It's...what friends do."
She tuned out the rest of his words. She could only pray that Founder Brimir had mercy, because she knew she could expect none from anyone else.
That's done. This chapter came out somewhat quicker because a lot of the segments weren't pre-planned. Usually it takes longer because I have to write the scene exactly with what I planned beforehand and/or make changes and restart everything, but here a large chunk of chapter was one of those 'it writes itself' moments. Hopefully it goes well, but I'm not sure.
I know the cast are depressed and get kicked around a lot in this chapter, but like I said above there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. It's how Dark Souls is, yeah? Struggling through your burdens, having a moment of triumph and then going back to the struggles. Hopefully we can push through it and get to the end boss :)
Answer time:
SirSquirtle - What!? How did you figure out the final, ultra secret plot twist!? Tell me! ...In all seriousness, no not likely. Also, Scarron is nice and got his hands dirty in his chapter. Gwyndolin lets you do all the work and spends his boss fight running away.
Purefall - Always appreciate a guy who manages to truck through the first eight God-awful chapters :D Anyway, to answer your questions.
1. Characters from Souls 2 are a possibility, but you'll likely be able to count them on one hand cause I don't really have a place for most of them. I mean Alsanna already appeared so that's one confirmed case.
2. That's because if the romance doesn't work for the story then I don't want it to become a plot tumor and take away from the actual main narrative. I know ZNT is primarily a harem series, but the genre itself I don't really have fond feelings for so I'm reluctant to put romance in for many reasons. Maybe we can get a concrete one by the next chapter, maybe not, we'll see.
3. Note that his 'original body' wasn't his either; he states outright it was some random shmuck in the asylum that the shards possessed. Technically his latest body is the on that's unique to him.
4. Solaire's dead, but so were Gwyn and Gwynevere...
Roku - Well it's not really my fault that the balance of Familiars is so stilted. I mean Sheffield dominates over the other two Familiars, and Tiffania's would-be summon is a glorified suicide bomber with nothing else.
As for Karin, they'll be intertwining soon.
Mingyu - Yo, missed you last chapter :) Hopefully this chapter's up to par with your standards.
Warden of Lore - Criticism isn't hating, friend ;) The last two negative reviews had legitimate points: In the first eight chapters I hadn't solidified Raziel's characterization yet, and posting an update that's just an Authors Note is against the rules. It's only when they leave one liner 'you suck' reviews that it's hating.
Kishinokurobi - Man, your reviews are getting longer :P Anyway, we already talked in PM so please do me a favor, and don't mention the zomboner after reading the chapter. I'd rather not deal with it.
Accursius - Yeah, sorry, but the segment was just them arguing about Fenris and then getting attacked before cutting to Louise's segment. I'll try to add more non-Raziel POV's for the next chapters.