Mendacium Speculorum
Chapter 8: Out-lucked
I waited.
Addressed to the Endless Witch, Beatrice,
Give this letter your full attention. The worst is beginning. Archbishop Ronald Knox has bestowed the privilege of the Decalogue upon the game. Make sure that Dlanor and Willard are safe, and always have Ronove to accompany you at all times. Archbishop Knox knows about the conspiracy, and I trust that the news have already spread to where you are.
Please do take the time to research on the previous succession games that involves Lady Aurora, and be careful. Burn this letter once you have read it.
Signed,
The Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta.
Her letters never ceased to be formal.
Beatrice would have secretly smiled at the fact that her friend's letters were undeniably formal and stuffy no matter what the occasion was, but the contents of the letter in her hands at the moment put her on full alert. She was in her personal quarters in her nightgown, rereading Lambdadelta's cursive handwriting which was purely in English again and again; something that had puzzled her a bit. It wasn't that Beatrice wasn't good in her English; English was like second nature to her, but the fact that the letter was written purely in English somewhat muddled and confused Beatrice.
Lambdadelta never liked using English, let alone using it in letters. And rereading the letter heightened Beatrice's curiosity even more.
It truly wasn't good news. Even if Lambdadelta had found a way to send letters personally to her, the news will never be good if this keeps up. It alarmed her to find out that Archbishop Knox had bestowed the privilege of the Decalogue already, and the rumors of the conspiracy increased day by day. There were rumors that the conspiracy was formed by the Heavenly authorities or even one of the witches in the Senate, and as each day passed, the witches started trusting each other less and less. Old friends didn't talk as much as they used to, acquaintances became hostile and the Senate was in a state of silent turmoil.
"'Addressed to the End-uh-less Witch, Beatrriche,'" a clear, bright voice came from beside the silver-haired witch.
The voice came from a young girl no older than eight with the most startling pair of blue eyes that anyone would have ever seen. Her wavy golden blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders and her face shone with that child-like glow most children would have. It so happened that this beautiful child wanted to come with Beatrice to the Senate to see how witches are supposed to be like, because she wanted to be a witch just like her. It was like a dream that the child must obtain, and Beatrice served to be the sole teacher to this golden-haired child.
"Princess," Beatrice sighed, throwing the letter in the furnace, "it's time for you to sleep. It is already past your bed time."
"But teacher!" the girl whined, obviously not wanting to sleep in fear of waking up to find that she wasn't in her teacher's quarters anymore. "It's not ten yet! And what's that letter about? Why is it in English? Why do the words sound so bossy?" With a decisive look, she had come to a conclusion. "I don't like that person, teacher."
Beatrice gasped in shock. "Princess! She is a very esteemed witch, and she did not intend to be 'bossy'. It is a formal letter, and she must write as such to another witch."
"If it's formal, why did you throw it in the fire, teacher?" the inquisitive little thing pressed further.
"You will understand when you are older," the silver-haired witch smiled in return.
"That's what you always say," the girl pouted as she ran to the bed and dived in the covers, trying to get an answer from her teacher by sulking. Instead of scolding the girl, Beatrice gently hummed to herself as she tried to mask her worry.
"If I let you meet her, you will like her," Beatrice added, referring to the sender of the letter herself.
"I don't!" the girl protested in a muffled voice, muffling her mouth with a pillow. "I don't like her! I'm going to bed now! Good night!"
Beatrice could only smile at the little girl's antics. "Good night, Princess," her gentle voice came.
"Hmph!"
As the girl drifted off to sleep in Beatrice's bed, Beatrice herself did not allow the pleasure of sleep to overcome her at that moment. She stayed up to ponder about the letter that she had recently burned, wondering at why Ronald Knox had granted the privilege of the Decalogue at such a short time. The only facts that she had received so far from Ronove were that most of the witches in the Senate do not know what the conspiracy really was and that only three people knew the entire story behind the conspiracy.
If you were to exclude Featherine Augustus Aurora (who could be most likely be the instigator of the conspiracy itself), there would be two people.
Even Lambdadelta, who would be the most likely person to know about the conspiracy only had suspicions and speculations.
There's got to be a way to gather the information about the previous succession games without attracting any attention and suspicion, Beatrice thought. If she were to send Ronove, it would be too risky for him, and if she were to send Dlanor and Will, it wouldn't do any good either. She didn't want them to get in trouble, and the Senate is already in a state of internal turmoil. Beatrice didn't want any more trouble to befall any of them.
Waving her wand from the tips of her toes to her head, Beatrice changed into a simple blue gown with her magic and proceeded to exit her quarters, closing the door quietly so as to not wake her student up. As she walked from her quarters to the library of the Senate of Witches, she laid out a plan for herself in case anyone were to ask her any questions. And it was better to go at night because it would be easier for her to disarm any witches who might be lurking around, being a witch who specialized in covert attacks.
She can't put this off until the next day. She knew that she had to go right then and there, and to her, the sooner the better. Beatrice knew that she can't stay put at all when it came to a matter of utmost importance such as this.
Silently, she made haste in the night, focusing only to reach her destination.
"I must warn you, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine slurred as she spoke in the main game room of the City of Books, "This mystery might not include all of the rules of the Decalogue. Will that be acceptable?"
The Witch of Certainty, who had recently recovered from her despair of what had happened the day before merely nodded her head in a professional manner. She didn't feel like speaking at that very moment, especially to the person who had spontaneously (or probably, it must have been planned from the very beginning) thrown a death warrant at one of the most prominent figures in her life. Ronald Knox, the Head Inquisitor of Heresy of the 7th District Repentance Enforcement Agency of the Great Court of Heaven was already dead to her in her mind, having given his privilege of the Decalogue to Featherine's game. Her mentor, her friend, her father figure...
He gave his life to stop any future happenings that the conspiracy might bring, and left her with his only daughter, Dlanor.
"What did Archbishop Knox mean by you being the instigator of the conspiracy?" Lambdadelta asked in a straightforward tone, making sure that her sharp glare never wavered from the lazy figure before her. Featherine arched her eyebrow, but there were no signs of anger on her face at all. Instead, she laughed in a humored manner; her laughter filling the room like little bells ringing in a small town.
"Instigator of the conspiracy?" Featherine's velvet-like voice came. "Why, isn't that a bit too early for assumptions, Lady Lambdadelta? Surely a witch like me isn't capable of dooming the Senate in such a way, and I truly despise conspiracies of the sort!"
"There was a witch, wasn't there? Archbishop Knox had said something about a witch. Who is she?" Lambdadelta pressed on further.
There was a beat of silence, and slowly, Featherine smiled yet again, but it was somehow very hard to make out what type of smile that was. It was a mixture of amusement, strain, and the worst: twisted glee.
"A dear, dear friend of mine," she responded. "Shall we begin?"
The projection of the game came up again, but this time, it didn't stay where they had left off. It apparently had a mind of its own; continuing by its own accord. The miko was nowhere to be seen anymore, but there was someone who resembled her, running in a hall of numerous doors. Her blue hair flapped wildly as it was expected to do, but there was something wrong with the miko's face.
Instead of having a fearful expression or a determined one as Lambdadelta had always seen, this girl that was running before her had a vengeful expression instead.
"...This is not the same girl," Lambdadelta pointed out.
"No, it is not," was the response from her opponent. "This, Lady Lambdadelta, is the doppelganger."
There was a terrible amount of vengeance on her face, surprising Lambdadelta for a while. It was as if this person was confined against her will for a very long time, and with time, her rage accumulated day by day. The amount of hatred on her face was so much that Lambdadelta had to avert her face for a while from the projection, and focused on where the original miko was instead.
All she could see was a shadow where the doppelganger was supposed to be, trying to catch up while her right hand shivered. In that said hand was a knife, and it was evident that the shadow was trying very hard to drop it. The shadow was following the girl from a distance, and her restrained gasps caught Lambdadelta's attention. Using her commands, Lambdadelta decided to confirm if that was the miko in question.
Is that you?
"H-Help me..." was the sole reply to her command, but it was more than enough.
The doppelganger had successfully assumed the miko's form.
"So I must find out the doppelganger's existence in order to fix the Logic Error, am I correct?" Lambdadelta spoke.
"Precisely," Featherine answered. "There are many ways, really. Find out its existence, deny its existence, or even permanently stop it from trying to kill my miko endlessly in this game. The question is; how will you do that, Lady Lambdadelta?"
"Knox's 10th!" Lambdadelta tried. "It is forbidden for a character to disguise themselves as another without any clues."
"Negated," Featherine responded coolly. "The doppelganger isn't disguising herself as the miko at all."
Darn, Lambdadelta thought. As far as Lambdadelta knew, the doppelganger was some sort of ethereal being that loved to get on her nerves. Lambdadelta tried once again with the hopes of getting somewhere with Knox's 2nd.
"Knox's 2nd. It is forbidden for supernatural agencies to be employed as a detective technique."
"Negated. Whoever said this was supernatural?" Featherine chimed, giggling softly as if she was humoring a child.
"But the doppelganger isn't disguising herself as the miko, and it's assuming the miko's identity! How can this not be supernatural?" Lambdadelta argued, obviously at her wits end. "Then, Knox's 4th! It is forbidden for unknown drugs or hard to understand scientific devices to be used!"
"Negated," the Witch of Drama hummed. "It is not hard to understand at all~"
Lambdadelta was at her wits end, and she felt so stumped that she could just stamp the word 'stupid-head' all over her forehead. Surely she can't use Knox's 7th; well, that's just a bit too obvious already, she can't use Knox's 8th unless she had a valid theory, she can't even use Knox's 9th because she doesn't understand a thing that was going on at that moment.
What are you doing? Lambdadelta spoke, prompting the poor, desperate miko to let out a choked breath.
"I...I can't control myself!" the miko's choked voice came. "T-There's a knife in my hand...I-I don't know how it got there...a-and...I-I can't drop it! I can't drop it at all! I-I'm running after someone who looks exactly like me...n-no...I don't want to kill myself!"
Calm down. Why are you running after her?
"I don't know! I-I'm just moving by myself...!"
The knife is directed at her, right?
"Y-Yes...!"
"There must be at least ONE rule in the Decalogue that can be applied against the game, right?" Lambdadelta asked. "I've tried all I can."
"Hmm...well, this mystery was actually dabbled with quite a lot..." Featherine put on a pensive look on her face. "All of the rules have been applied to this game, so it's highly impossible that you can use one of the rules to actually go against it. Besides, you're the first person to ever play the game with me~"
"So," Lambdadelta said, "The only clues that I have are that the doppelganger issue is not hard to understand, is not a supernatural issue, and is NOT disguising herself as the miko at all."
"Precisely," Featherine smiled.
Lambdadelta was about to add on more when she heard the grand ring of Featherine's grandfather clock, signifying that it was already midnight. The hour and minute hands were pointing directly at the number 12, and Featherine took the opportunity to yawn, stretch her numb arms and sigh with satisfaction while waving the projection away. Lambdadelta mentally cursed the clock to death, biting her lip as she got up to leave for her room.
"We will continue tomorrow morning," Lambdadelta said stoically. "Good night, Lady Auror-"
All of a sudden, Lambdadelta found herself being pulled in a gentle embrace by the older witch.
Lambdadelta's red eyes widened with shock as Featherine embraced her; her fingers going through the golden strands of her hair as Featherine held the Witch of Certainty like a treasured porcelain doll. The younger witch tried to push away, but Featherine's grip on her was much stronger than her puny efforts. Leaning downwards to Lambdadelta's ear, Featherine then began to whisper the most detestable thing that Lambdadelta had ever heard ever since Ronald Knox was forced to bestow the privilege of the Decalogue upon the game.
"I'm sorry, Lady Lambdadelta...I'm really sorry..."
Sorry.
Sorry.
I'm very sorry.
This was meant to happen. I'm sorry.
It was supposed to happen. I'm sorry.
...Lies.
All of them.
They were nothing but lies spilling out from her mouth.
And as Lambdadelta fought to release herself from Featherine's hold, she found Featherine's lips against her own.
"I want you."
She didn't know why was this happening to her.
It was painful.
Being exploited like this was painful.
She found herself on a bed, feeling the ebony-haired witch's hands all over her naked body and her discarded gown beneath it, leaving only her black gloves which clothed her hands. Fingers were touching places where they shouldn't be touching, and the blonde-haired witch considered resisting even more so that she would stop. But resisting would actually encourage the older witch to continue her ravishing, and to Featherine, the sight of the Witch of Certainty, bare and naked before her, was the greatest thing that she had ever seen in her life. Lambdadelta could feel her hands touching her, caressing her, stroking her, tearing at her flesh as her body betrayed her, shivering to Featherine's touch.
And when Featherine impaled her with her sharp fingers, Lambdadelta bit on her lip, drawing blood.
It was painful.
It hurt so much that she wished that she could cry out in pain if it weren't for her pride stopping her.
She could feel herself bleeding as the blood rolled down her thighs.
But she won't show that it hurt.
Lambdadelta wouldn't give Featherine the satisfaction of hearing her gasp, hearing her moan, hearing her scream. She will have none of that. Featherine will never hear Lambdadelta's voice no matter how much she anticipates it, and she will never have the satisfaction of hearing her.
"I love you, Lady Lambdadelta. I love you so much..."
Featherine was breaking her with this sick obsession of hers.
But Lambdadelta will never give in.
A/N: What happened to me ;A;
So it's the eighth chapter already, and the worst chapter for me to write at the moment xD I'M SORRY FOR THAT THING AT THE END I'M SO SORRY BUT THE PLOT CALLED FOR IT AND-
AAACHOOOO
*sniffle*
P-Please revie-AAAACHOOOO!
-Densetsu-no-Magur-AAAACHOOOOO!