The Gathering of Troublesome People

Adra Castle.

Made of marble with a swirly pattern.

The tranquil lake that expanded behind it, and the rugged drawbridge before us certainly gave it that air. The interweaving of the forest, lake, and marble of the walls displayed a solemn beauty that would be hard to find in even in fairy tales. If comparing it to the many famous castles of Great Britain, it couldn't be said to be inferior in any way.

But.

The great, leaning spire gave off the impression of a spine twisted in agony. The countless marble bricks were piled up in a way that seemed perfectly calculated to make people feel uneasy. Of course, they must have been built up, but they gave the distinct impression that they existed in that shape from the start, and that they had just been dug up from their sleeping place deep in the earth of the mountain. It was a place that gave off that kind of impossible illusion.

-The crumbling castle gate, like a broken ribcage.

-The warped castle walls, like arms embracing the earth.

-The main building on the other side of the castle, even now reminds onlookers of a beating heart.

It was as if some giant had had its skin and muscle torn away, and had been turned inside out. That was the kind of impression it left deep in the observer's mind.

'...ah...'

Gray's body suddenly began to tremble.

Compared to the photographs she had seen earlier, it looked far more ominous - far more sublime.

The Castle of Separation, Adra.

'...so the children of Angels were giants?' her master murmured with a frown.

'Angels'...children?'

'From the books of the Apocrypha. If we believe the description from the first book of Enoch, the children of Angels and humans were up to 3000 cubits tall. In today's measurements, that would be about 1,300 meters. This castle would easily match that.'

'Well, aren't we knowledgeable?'

Turning to face Flue, my master's expression steadily grew worse and worse.

'If you're a magus, you should at least know this much.'

'There's a difference between just knowing something and being able to spit it out on a moment's notice. Besides, you aren't just reciting information blindly based on a single look, are you?'

"..."

'This is a place that would make you think of its creator, so shouldn't we be talking about that?'

'Speaking of which, what would you know about that?'

Velvet-sensei threw a sharp look at Flue as he asked.

'The creator of this Castle of Separation, the one known as the Magus of Ashbourne...surely you didn't come here without knowing at least that much?'

'Heheheh. Looks like I've really kicked the wrong hornet's nest.'

In reply to Flue's droll response, Velvet-sensei pressed him further.

'We haven't asked you about who you really are yet, have we?'

Shrugging as if accepting the fact that this time there was no way to avoid the subject, Flue gathered the sleeves of his robes.

'I'm a mercenary. I work mostly in the Middle East, sticking my neck out whenever magic is involved. Every once in a while, the Clock Tower requests my services as well.'

'So, you're a Spell Caster, huh?'

'Haha, sorry.' Flue rubbed his own head apologetically.

A magus was one who pursued the Truth of magecraft - sometimes called the Spiral of Origin or Akasha - with everything they had, generation after generation, investing all means and abilities towards that end. The abilities they gained as a result of that pursuit were just a byproduct, and were nothing more than a means to which they could reach that Truth.

In contrast, there were also those who had no interest in the Truth, and who saw magecraft as a convenient tool to be exploited. These people were called Spellcasters in derision. Normal magi detested these kinds of people like they were poisonous snakes.

'So, I imagine it would probably bother you to be seen with me. Shall we split up and enter separately then?'

Flue was aware of the distinction, apparently.

With a depressed air, Flue pointed a finger at the draw bridge to the castle.

A few seconds passed.

'...you ask that now?'

After spitting out those words, Velvet-sensei stepped onto the drawbridge. Giving the girls a shy smile, Flue fell in step with them.

Through the open castle gate was a simple, yet spacious front garden. Made in the style of an English garden - or maybe more appropriately, as if the owner had little interest in it, the natural scenery gave off the strong impression of being built to the bare minimum of appearances.

The scent of roses was thick.

Standing at the entrance to the keep was a man in a slim-fitted suit. He somewhat gave off the impression of a butler.

'My apologies for the wait. Lord El-Melloi II, along with Mr. Flueger.' With a courteous bow, he opened the door.

The lobby within was surprisingly large. And...

'...ahhh...'

Gray gulped.

It was a space overflowing with Angels.

Rows upon rows of Angel statues. They came in all different forms and materials, some wood, some iron, some even sculpted from what appeared to be crystal. In addition, stained glass depictions of bow-wielding cupids, paintings of valiant, sword-wielding Archangels, and frescos depicting Dominions bestowed with great authority adorned the space in abundance. Even the chandelier hanging from the ceiling bore the motif of an angel's wings and halo.

And they weren't just famous Angels either.

Angels like the ones my master had shown me - I had studied up on them a little before we left London - far from the classical depictions of Angels as holy beings, even those who appeared as little more than monsters were present. The bizarre, four winged and four-faced Cherubs, and the six-winged serpents known as Seraphs.

With their various forms and styles, the number of angels placed around the keep easily exceeded a few hundred.

As Gray looked, a terribly pungent sensation welled up in her throat.

There was no way something like this could be considered just a simple collection. No, if it was just a collection of art, there was no explanation for the mysterious pressure it created, considering its age and strength. It was as if someone had lavishly indulged in an obsession of theirs, and we had walked into that person's Cabinet of Curiosities. Or maybe walked directly inside their mind.

If that was the case, that made this place-

...like brain matter.

The atmosphere of the room felt thick and sticky for her. She involuntarily stumbled, placing both her hands on the stone floor. It became incredibly difficult to breathe. The trembling she felt when she first saw the castle became worse and worse. Gray felt like she was sinking into a swamp. And in that swamp floated countless eyes, watching us as we drowned. Observation that couldn't be escaped. For what felt like an eternity, she felt nothing but the sensation of falling into an Angel's brain.

SLAP!

A hot singing sensation made itself known in her cheek.

Misora slapped her.

'It's a well-made optical illusion with nasty taste...its almost like a spell itself through artwork.' Misora told her gently and helped Gray up before healing said cheek. Velvet-sensei agreed with her observation.

'My Lady, indeed this isn't Magecraft as Misora says. The 'color' of this place is just appealing to your innate sensitivity. You are just being run down by your own abilities. It doesn't matter what, just create a new direction for it. You've learned the basics of Meditation, haven't you?'

Looking down at Gray, Velvet-sensei had apparently started smoking a cigar.

'What did you see?'

'...umm...a swamp of brain matter, and eyes watching me...'

'I see. Defensive Meditation training was supposed to be one of the first things we covered, but I see I'll have to add it to your homework when we return.'

'Guh...'

Gray sulked in frustration.

Puffing out smoke from his cigar, Velvet-sensei turned his gaze to the center of the lobby.

'Of course, the other humans gathered here wouldn't lose to such hyperventilation, would they?'

Beside me, Flue also looked into the lobby. Immediately, he broke his gaze away. Following my master's gaze, from close to the spiral staircase in the lobby, a single person was approaching us.

'Whoa!'

At the same time as Flue hurriedly jumped behind a nearby pillar and hid, the approaching person greeted my master.

Blonde hair and blue eyes.

From his personal appearance, he looked like an impressive young man. He still seemed to be in his mid twenties, but he carried a sense of confidence and experience that didn't match his age. From his unblemished white suit, to his necktie pin encrusted with precious stones, to his calm and collected demeanor, his manliness seemed to be on a different level.

'It has been a while, Lord El-Melloi.'

'Lord El-Melloi II, please. If you leave out the II, its a name too heavy for my shoulders.' Velvet-sensei griped as he constantly reminds others because...well, he wasn't Magus Gentry to begin with.

'You are too humble. I have heard of your exploits as a Lord within the Clock Tower.'

Beyond just sounding like he was trying to be polite, his voice held a genuine sincerity that was pleasant on the ears. It was a voice that seemed to reveal the months and years he had lived. There was no doubt he faced all obstacles in life with the same straightforwardness.

'You praise me too much. With your reputation within the Clock Tower, The Knight Heine Istari is much more illustrious than I am.'

'I'm not the one who managed to get a title out of Her Excellency, though.'

The joking words of my master were deflected hard and fast.

"...is he famous?" Gray asked Flue curiously.

'Oi, you really don't know him? I thought you were El-Melloi's follower.'

'...I only met him and entered the Clock Tower recently.'

After her honest admission, Flue breathed a sigh.

He had even gone through the trouble of hiding himself, so there wasn't any reason for him to answer her, but the way he honestly responded to her inquiry reminded her that he was a good person in his own way.

Not all Magi are sociopaths as Misora claims. Spellcasters may be who they are because they would rather not let go of their morals and conscience in pursuit of their goals.

'The Istari were a family well-noted for their alchemy, but Heine himself is an interesting case. At one point in the past, he had turned his back on the life of a magus and become a monk with the Church.'

'The Church?'

Misora frowned at that.

In this circumstance, The Church did not refer to the everyday religious institution. It was the underside of that organization, a group whose primary goal was to hunt down heretics. It was one of the very few organizations that surpassed the Clock Tower in scale. Their stance on the usage of Mysteries was rather different from that of the Clock Tower, so the two organizations were often in conflict with each other. To magi, it was something they disliked even talking about.

'Uh, so, why did he return to being a magus then?'

'They didn't want his talent to go to waste, so his family pulled him back in.'

Seeing my blinking face, Flue's mouth twisted slightly.

'Thanks to that, the relationship between the Church and the Clock Tower became even more problematic, and for a time things were actually rather dangerous. But I guess that just shows how much value he has. The Istari family must be so proud.'

Which must have meant that the one who fought his way out of the Church was Heine Istari himself.

Misora knew Heine Istari was one of the disposables. In his case, he caused so much trouble between two organizations. This man who may be a good person, has the skills of an Executor. No Magus can fight against him unless they're good in combat.

In order to defend the providence of God, the combat strength of the Church was tempered to a state beyond common comprehension. If he had used his own magic to defeat the master assassins from the Church, it was no wonder he was famous in the Clock Tower as well. From just hearing this one thing about him, he seemed like an unbelievable person - not just the deeds of a genius, but an impression closer to that of a great catastrophe.

The fact that the assassins he had defeated with his own hands may have been his previous comrades - what feelings did that leave in Heine Istari?

'...Brother.'

A young girl, wearing a white one-piece dress, popped her head out from behind the spiral staircase where she had been hiding. With a timid behavior that reminded me of a small bird, she couldn't have been more than 8 years old. The young man gave her a gentle smile.

'It's okay, Rosalind. Lord El-Melloi II is an honest person.'

'...o-okay.'

After pattering her way over to her brother, she bowed her head slightly.

'I'm his younger sister, Rosalind Istari. Pleased to meet you.'

With a shyness that seemed even now like she would break down any moment, she greeted him.

Seeing her begin coughing and immediately guessing it was the smoke, my master hastily pulled his cigar from his mouth and returned it to his cigar case, earning an apologetic nod from Heine.

'So, that is-'

Raising his head, he looked over towards me. It seems at that same point, Flue entered his field of vision for the first time. Seeing Flue cover his face with a hand at having been discovered, my master asked Heine.

'Do you know Flue? We met him on our way here, and he decided to walk with us.'

'...Yes.'

The young man nodded.

The refreshing demeanor he had held up until now vanished in an instant, his voice now holding a cruel, inhumane quality.

'...yes. If you mean the Master-slaying Astrologer Flueger, then yes, I've heard of him.'

The confrontation in the lobby lasted for only a matter of seconds.

'My apologies. This isn't the place for bringing up personal feelings.'

The young man apologized and withdrew.

Flue, with a strained laugh, waved off the apology.

'I'm sorry, Rosalind. Did I scare you?'

'N-no...'

The young girl bravely shook her head. Of course, it was easy to see the bluff mixed into her expression, but as if to avoid pointing it out, Heine just stroked her hair. He seemed like a good older brother. What that meant in the world of magi wasn't clear. But they did get the feeling that the two of them had met more than just hostility for it, though.

'So it seems like you were also invited here.' Heine pointed his question toward Velvet-sensei.

'Yes, a bit of a social obligation. I keep myself pretty far detached from the families my predecessor kept ties with, but the lord of this castle is one of the few exceptions.'

'So it is about that, after all.'

'Yes,' their teacher nodded.

'A month ago, Geryon Ashbourne, the master of the Castle of Separation Adra, passed away.'

'...'

'It reached us in the mail a week ago.'

'Yes, that sounds about right,' Heine nodded.

'Then, it also spoke of the inheritance?'

'Yes,' Heine nodded again.

'I heard the Last Will detailing the inheritance of the Castle of Separation was made public. Ashbourne didn't have any blood relatives, so all Houses with a connection to him were invited. It seems rather odd that the number of magi who gathered is so small.' Velvet-sensei was PAINED in saying that, because there's a doggone good reason why there are small attendees.

'It seems he was pretty fond of old magi, wasn't he?'

With a bored look, Velvet-sensei shook his head.

'He just had to turn even his own death into another game.'

'...Oh? Does that displease the brand-new lord?'

The voice this time came from deeper within the lobby. Besides the spiral staircase Heine and Rosalind had been standing near, another spiral staircase stood in the lobby. From this second staircase, a new presence approached us.

The sound of metal rubbing on metal filled the room. It took some time to realize that it was the sound of a wheelchair.

'Mister Orlocke.'

A nervousness that was very unlike him crossed my master's face. A white-haired old man sat in the wheelchair. Behind him a young boy pushed the wheelchair for him, but otherwise avoided making eye contact with others in the room.

With his deep, layered wrinkles, he gave off less the impression of a magus and more that of a mummy. At the very least, any estimate of his age would easily pass the 80s. On each of his ten withered, wood-like fingers, were ten unique rings. The resplendence of the ten rings made the age of his withered body even more apparent.

He was something that looked too at home in this Castle of Separation. As if despite being a person, he was one step away from becoming something else-

'...who is this?' Gray asked Misora.

'Orlocke Caesarmunde. He is the leading authority on Papilio Magia. He's pretty famous.' Misora told her.

'Heh, heheheheheh...'

Before Gray could ask for further explanation, the person in question gave a deep laugh. Though more than a laugh, it sounded like he was just squeezing the air from his lungs. It gave the impression of wind blowing threw a dried-out cave.

According to many, it was a magecraft that attempted to harness the Mystery behind a caterpillar turning into a butterfly - by creating a chrysalis, completely dissolving the body, and reconstructing it into something new.

In contrast to the beautiful name of the magecraft, its user gave off only a sinister feeling. His presence was like a black mud, dripping over the stone floor.

'Lord El-Melloi II,' the old man whispered. 'Lord El-Melloi II, Lord El-Melloi II, Lord El-Melloi II? Even as a joke, to have one of the Fes be inducted as a Lord...how dare you even show your face? Let alone in my friend Geryon's castle, of all places.'

Fes, their master's rank within the Clock Tower. The Fourth Order.

It differs from the normal rankings in that it is granted as an honorary title for skills and achievements, such as awe inspiring unusual abilities outside of the purview of ordinary magi, separate from the normal assessment of their rank as a magus. It hints to his position thanks to Reines, and his ability to spam out excellent students. He had the Brain of a Brand to accomplish chucking out first-rate magi out of his classroom. But his abilities as a Magus was 'shoddy' as he self-admits it out of self-loathing. He wanted to be a Magus as well as his excellent natural abilities but alas, his birth determined his fate.

Laughing again, the old man began to stroke the leather of his wheelchair's armrests. It seemed like that was a habit of his, as the old armrests were clearly discolored where he was rubbing them.

Velvet-sensei didn't say a word in response. From the start, he was well aware of how unskilled he was. Even so, having it pointed out by others would no doubt create an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Putting a hand to his chest, he instead gave a small bow.

'I am fully aware of my lack of experience. Even if I only have this name temporarily, I would request your forgiveness, Sir Orlocke.'

'...hmph. A Lord shouldn't lower his head so easily. You disgrace the history of your position.' Lifting his fingers from the armrests, he pointed this out with a bored sounding voice. 'I guess I should at least introduce him.'

With his gaze, he gestured behind himself.

'-Wow! What beauties!'

Saying so while looking at Rosalind, Gray and Misora, a young man wearing yamabushi outfit appeared. He looked to be a similar age to Heine, in his mid twenties, and he wore an eyepatch over his right eye. What was strange though was not his eyepatch. More so was the small box fastened to his head, his pure-white hemp robes, and the conch hanging from his neck.

Misora whispered to gray that he is her countryman, a practitioner of Shugendou. Mountain Ascetics.

'Yamabushi, Tokitou Jiroubou Seigen, at your service!' With thickly accented English, he introduced himself. Despite the fact that his clothes looked very strange for the country he was now in, he seemed to fit in in this place. Maybe it was because this was a place where magi belonged.

'So, how'd you like to grab some tea? The butler says they've got the best of teas prepared for us.'

"..."

Bending over and rubbing his hands together he made this invitation, but even so Rosalind silently clung to Heine's back, giving off even more the impression of a French doll.

The girls backed off a little.

Velvet-sensei frowned slightly.

'Yamabushi are priests, bodies dedicated to the gods, right? On top of that, Shugendou treats women as unclean, doesn't it?'

'Haha. My faith and my hobbies are different, yeah? Plus, it would be one thing if I was on the big mountain, but in a foreign country there's no need to hold myself back. So, how about we get a bit more familiar, ladies?'

'...umm, actually...' Gray withdrew even further,

'I'm afraid we'll have to refuse. As you can see, you've upset my little sister considerably.'

Heine cut into the conversation. His voice overflowed with an obstinant determination, as if saying he wouldn't let anyone bring harm to his sister.

'Mm, careful bro. If you keep your guard too tight, the little lady will hate you too, y'know?'

'Sorry, but there is no way Rosalind could ever come to dislike me.'

'Whaa, that's some serious self-confidence!'

Hurriedly backing away, Seigen threw a hand behind his back. Suddenly, something jumped out from his hand. Following an impossible arc, it moved into Heine's blindspot and attacked him from behind. It moved without a sound, and yet with a ferocity that could challenge a wild beast.

'Heine!'

At Rosalind's scream, Heine raised a hand.

'-was that the Shugendou technique, Hihatsuhou?'

Heine spoke while maintaining an expressionless face. Aside from the red dripping from his hand, he was also now holding a small metal disc about the size of his palm.

'Haha, you're keen! It's a technique that Taichou was pretty skilled at. Not quite as famous as En no Ozuno though. It was a trick he'd use during his Begging.'

'Yes, you've shown me something nice.'

Heine nodded at the Yamabushi, who was scratching his head while he laughed.

'Relax, relax. I was just playing around a bit.'

'If we're just playing, then I definitely need to give you a response.'

Heine touched a finger to the precious stone in his necktie pin.

'Convert.'

He whispered while tapping the floor with the toes of one of his boots.

In an instant, countless blades rose from the stone floor. It wasn't that the blades were piercing through the floor, but instead that the floor itself was turning into blades. Like a wave passing out from where Heine's foot tapped the floor, the carpet of blades reoriented themselves and began pursuing Seigen.

'Whoa!'

Seigen jumped. As if ignoring gravity itself, his body soared unnaturally a few meters into the air.

Velvet-sensei would tell them this later, but apparently this was an example of a fairly well known Shugendou technique, a magecraft passed down in En no Ozuno's teachings, known as Raven Flight or Tengu Flight. If taken to the extreme, it could be said to be one step short of True Magic, an ability close to spatial teleportation. If she bothered to try, Misora can do just that, if only she won't piss anyone off in the process, as stealing someone's techniques is offensive in their society. Only permitted if the one stolen from, is dead. Using this, Seigen casually floated up to and landed on the chandelier.

'Bwahahaha, how's that?!'

The Yamabushi crossed his arms with a triumphant air, but Heine just pointed a finger at his chest.

'There it is. I don't have any belief in your god, but you showed me something nice, so it's the least I can do.'

'Huh?'

Hurriedly lowering his gaze, stone blades fluttered around Seigen's folded arms.

The stone blades broke into fragments. No, they were flower petals. The countless stone blades become a hundred times as many stone flower petals, now decorating the Lobby. The spectacle, which would have left anyone dazzled, lasted for only a few seconds. In the next instant, placed on top of Seigen's folded arms, was the disc he had thrown earlier.

On top of the disc were a stone rose, and a ten pound note.

'Well, look at that.'

'Oh?'

Orlocke and Flue both looked down at their hands. On both the old magician's armrest and at Flue's fingertips were beautiful stone roses.

'...ah.'

On Velvet-sensei's jacket, Misora's chest and Gray's cloak as well, a stone rose was also fastened.

Rather than magecraft, it seemed more like a first-rate magician's trick. The delicate, glassy smooth stone rose looked as if touching it might bring it to life.

'So, this is the alchemy of the Istari family?' Velvet-sensei whispered, taking one of the stone roses in his fingers.

'Alchemy...from the Atlas Institute, right?'

In the world of magi, they say that if you were speaking about alchemy, you were speaking about the Atlas Institute. One of the three major organizations of magi outside the Clock Tower, it was an organization separate from the outside world that was known as something like a 'living hell'.

'It's a different lineage of alchemy than that of the Atlas Institute. Unlike them, the alchemy adopted by the Clock Tower was developed after the initial influx of alchemy in the West during the Middle Ages. The Istari's trademark 'Living Stone' has been compared to a poor knock-off of arms used by Heroic Spirits, but it seems to actually be a considerable talent.'

Their teacher's eyes narrowed to a barely noticeable degree.

When speaking of talent, he would often do so with unmasked cynicism. It was definitely something unreachable. Yet, as if he was speaking of the stars in the sky, his feverish zeal would sometimes poke through.

Following that,

'-whoa!'

Seigen cleanly slipped off of the chandelier.

With a considerable sound, he crashed into the floor. Luckily, the stone blades had already vanished, so he suffered little more than the physical blow.

'...o-oww...'

Rubbing his behind with a moan, he raised a troubled hand.

'I give, I give! If we test each other like this, I don't have a chance.' His facetious expression held no resentment.

With a gentle laugh, Heine offered him a hand.

'Rosalind is off-limits, but if its okay with you, I would be more than happy to take you up on your offer for tea.'

'I'm not particularly interested in guys, though. Ah well, a pretty boy like you will be fine I suppose.'

With a laugh, Seigen took the proffered hand.

Both of their voices had a peaceful tone to them. It seemed they had developed a kind of friendship from their short fight.

'It seems like I'm the last to arrive.' a haughty young woman's voice spoke coldly, but elegantly, followed by a manservant behind her.

Her bright blue dress was reminiscent of the color of the sky. A ribbon of the same color kept her golden-blonde hair in ringlets, and in her hand was an ivory-handled parasol. The specific details of the parasol couldn't be discerned from this distance, but just from a glance it looked like that parasol alone could probably pay for a car or two.

More than that, she had a beauty that seemed as if nature itself had poured its soul into creating it.

Gray once learned from Misora that Magi pursue perfection. Looks, studies, technique, etc...all to gain prestige. Misora even altered herself to gain respect, thus her beauty was something she brought out with her magecraft.

Seigen could be heard gasping in amazement. No, this time it wasn't just Seigen. Leaving aside the likes of Heine and Flue, even Rosalind and I couldn't help but be taken by the girl's striking figure.

She couldn't have been more than 17 or 18 years old, but she had still captured the eyes of the entire room.

'...so you did end up coming. Did the smell of dazzling treasures lure you inside?' the old man in the wheelchair spat out with an annoyed voice.

As if taking complaint with his words,

'Is that a problem, you old bag?' she countered with a flourish.

Her approaching figure carried itself as if she was already lord of this place.

From the old man's throat, a laughter that sounded like lava boiling up from hell resounded.

'...oh ho, the problem is with your filthy blood, Luviagelita Edelfelt.'

'You honor me.'

The girl in the blue dress - Luviagelita, responded to those words with a smile.