Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.

Mendacium Speculorum

Chapter 13: Trapped

Red eyes met blue.

Gloved fingers intertwined with bare, wounded ones.

The one above has finally met the one at rock bottom.

It was the change that the witch had always wanted. It was the thing that she endured for throughout the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. She didn't bother to count; what was most important was to endure to get what she wanted, and the great Lady Lambdadelta could've once laughed with joy and triumph upon claiming her rewards. It was an action that she would've done a long time ago, when her happiness was viewed as a beautiful asset of hers by others who admired her and hated her. Time was indeed a cruel thing: it gives and takes away.

But this moment, this fateful, impossible moment was achieved, and neither of the two knew how. The miko looked at her as if she was a goddess who descended from the highest of heavens, stunned to silence as she took in the clarity of her beautiful red eyes.

Eyes that knew much, but showed none. Eyes that were beautifully hardened, yet softened. Eyes that had seen many things, but exposed nothing,

{ and she wanted to cry for those eyes. }

Intricately crafted white shoes gently touched the cold, hard and filthy ground, as if a very step could purify the ground that they were on. In the witch's eyes, this was her. The one whom Lambdadelta was destined to meet was her, and both of them knew it. The witch was to save the miko, to bring her out from this horrid hell and bring her to a sanctuary where she will be safe for the rest of her days.

In this hell where the surroundings smelled like dead rats and unimaginable filth, had blood stains on the dark walls and grotesque sights of rotting, decomposing bodies, Lambdadelta's appearance reeled the miko in instantly. The witch's perfume was the most comforting scent that she had ever smelled, which made the miko quite self-conscious at her unsightly appearance before such an esteemed being.

Her blood would stain her gloves. The miko's cuts, which still had dried blood on them in the process of healing themselves were still painfully visible, and for once in her life, Lambdadelta's heart ached terribly. If she could, she could crush her still-beating heart and throw it to the ground just to make it stop aching.

Attempting to speak in itself was suffocating, seeing the one whom she strove to save in such a degraded state.

She had to speak.

"Hello," Lambdadelta said, her voice ringing throughout the area. The same majesty and gentle, sweeping tones of her voice surprised the witch; she had thought that she had lost the capability to show such beautiful kindness forever, but it appeared to not be the case.

The afflicted one before her remained captivated, for she remembered that she knew this witch.

"It's you," the miko breathed with wonder and disbelief. "...You came to save me."

She did.

She indeed did.

"It is me," Lambdadelta whispered. "I am sorry you had to wait long."

Solace. That was what they felt. After the surprise and the disbelief came peaceful, beautiful solace, which was not wasted among the two of them. They were together in this hell. They weren't alone. What was most important was the fact that they weren't alone, and the miko was overwhelmingly comforted with this large ray of hope that was before her.

"Y-You came! You actually came!" she cried. "I...I...!"

"I promised," was all the witch said with the same smile. "I promised to myself that I will come for you."

"H-How did you get here?! None of Master's opponents ever did try...!"

Lambdadelta did wonder, how did she get here? How did the spell work so flawlessly? Did she take that long to get Featherine's guard down? If that was her magic, then she could commend herself and laugh to herself inside, but now wasn't the time to laugh. It was the time to work, and work hard to get the desired end that would ultimately benefit them all no matter what the cost. Then again, Lambdadelta had changed; she must try not to let lives be lost, and everywhere she went, knives were pointed at her, rendering her stuck to be confined into her own mind for ideas and help.

So she settled for the famous phrase, "It's a long story."

The miko looked at the witch's black gloves, already stained with dried blood from another. Lambdadelta didn't bother to wash her gloves, mainly to remember the old fool's future sacrifice, but the miko had assumed that she was further dirtying her gloves. Every part of the witch was deemed sacred to the miko, to which the miko quickly withdrew her hand and apologized.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm much too filthy to hold your hand..."

To her surprise, the witch took the miko's hand softly, so as to not hurt her with the wounds that she already had.

"You look like a fright," Lambdadelta said, laughing mirthlessly as she conjured up a velvet cloak to be put around the miko's small, bare body. "Cover up."

The witch went against her own traditional beliefs; one must be damaged to be strengthened, but in the case of the battered miko before her, she had been damaged enough. There was much work to be done, and very little time left. To capture Featherine Augustus Aurora in her own game, they would have to act quick so that she wouldn't have time or room to even think of something complex and elaborate to hinder them further. The Senate would never be the same again with rumors and distrust, and while her trusted ones are there fighting, she too had a part to play.

"Come," the blonde-haired witch said, gently leading the miko by the hand as she walked forward. "Let us exit this place."

"W-What do you mean by that?" the frightened thing asked. "Master will-"

"She will be waiting for us, I know," Lambdadelta confirmed. "But now is our only chance to get out, and I will take you to the Senate."

As if the Senate was an unreachable heaven, the miko gasped as she went beside the witch, walking beside her as she excitedly, despite the pains of her wounds, decided to ask her about it. "You will take me there? Will you show me everything? After we escape, you'll show me everything about the Senate? Will you tell me the stories behind all the rooms? Will you? Will you?"

When a hell gets unbearable, it is a true comfort to have a small ray of hope accompany one throughout his or her struggles. In this case, the witch was the miko's hope, and like all desperate and longing people, the less regal of the two listened to the beautiful descriptions of the majestic and unattainable Senate of the witches. Marble pillars which were carved intricately and flawlessly by artisans, portraits of grand witches, numerous majestically furnished rooms and an apex in which one could feel as if they were at the top of the world. It was like envisioning a story come to life, and as they walked on the floors of the damned and smelled the stench of death, the witch finally stopped speaking of the famous beauty of the esteemed castle.

"...It is like a dream," Lambdadelta sighed. "All of this is already too familiar to me."

Her companion looked at her unreadable expression. "What do you mean, milady?"

"The stench. The sight. The familiar feeling of filth and bodies and bones and fluids beneath your feet," the Witch of Certainty softly said. "It is like revisiting old, unpleasant memories; to see this hell again is laughable, is it not?"

"Milady, y-you mean to say that-"

"Let us stop for a while. I will heal your wounds."

Like a handmaiden to her lady, the witch lowered herself to take the smooth, soft cloak off the miko's body, draping it at the crook of her covered elbow. Without removing her gloves, Lambdadelta placed her hand gently on the first bloodied cut, letting the shine of magic heal it gradually as the miko stared in amazement. The blue-haired girl was naked before the witch, and all the witch did was to inspect each and every wound and cut, healing ceaselessly without a word or a look of disgust. Angry red marks that were hardened with clots disappeared, leaving only the fair, soft skin that she once had.

Before the miko knew it, the witch was done, and the more powerful of the two draped the cloak over her again. This time, the cloak smelled a lot like the witch who had given it to her, and as an extra measure, Lambdadelta tied the large ribbon at the front; not too tight, not too loose.

"Are you better now?"

"Y-Yes," the miko stammered. "T-Thank you, milady!"

While the young miko was hopeful and elated, as most rescued people would be, Lambdadelta was far wiser than that. She had pampered the victim enough; it was high time that they exited the Logic Error, and the witch reckoned that she would need more than her brain, the miko's and their luck combined. To fight for oneself was easy- to fight for others was harder.

Lambdadelta took the miko's hand in hers, then gently tugged on it. "When I tell you to run, run. Let go of this hand when the time comes."

Let go of this hand when the time comes.

But...!

We love you. We love you very much. Please remember-

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not now, not now, not now.

Memories, memories, useless, trashy memories! Trash, unneeded trash! Why did she have that trash with her?! Why now, why now?!

The tiniest signs of strain showed on Lambdadelta's visage, and she was angry. She was angry. Disgusted. Completely disgusted with herself. She was a witch- witches weren't supposed to remember what they used to be. Witches weren't supposed to dwell on their pasts, whatever they were in the past. Whether they were human, or pigs, or dogs, or whatever creature they were before, they weren't supposed to dwell on them.

Witches were supposed to be the pinnacle of fantasies, realities and dreams.

Witches were supposed to be magical. Witches were supposed to make anything possible.

Witches like her had the power to do things.

So Lambdadeta would have to look forward, not backward, to move on. She would have to face what was ahead, amidst all the rotting flesh and the scarred rats and the absence of even an inch of a life, bravely and with determination. She'd have to.

Then, the miko gasped.

Well, she had every right to. She was right to gasp in such a mortified, terrified manner. For right before them was the person that they've been waiting for; the being that had confused them all by merely existing, the being that horrified the poor miko so, the being that was an enigma, until Lady Lambdadelta had decided that she would no longer be one.

A mass of black- no face, no color! A silhouette that breathed, moved, walked, ran, lived! Lambdadelta could feel the miko clench her lithe fingers on the flesh of her arm, and the pain that followed reminded the witch that this was what instilled fear in her. This was the very thing that she was trying to solve. This was the very thing that could get them out, or if they weren't careful, this was the very thing that could kill them altogether.

"...Hoh," was all the blonde could say, placing extra emphasis on sounding as disinterested as possible.

Gracefully, the silhouette stepped on the still running rats on the bloodied ground, squishing them to death with her bare feet as they shrieked their last, saliva dribbling from their tiny, filthy mouths as the feared apparition advanced slowly, never looking back. The miko clenched her fingers tighter on Lambdadelta's gloved arm, yet the witch was far from giving up just because of a lousy attempt on intimidation.

And then, realization dawned upon the witch.

This was someone she knew.

This was someone who had associated with her before. This was someone who regularly visited her once upon a time, when she was much, much younger. This was someone who attended luncheons at the Senate, this was someone whom everyone regarded highly, and this was someone who was once-

A witch.

Elements of horror sneaked into the Witch of Certainty's voice as she managed to find the name that was so long ago written in history as Featherine Augustus Aurora's first opponent in a Logic Error game.

"...Lady Aporia...!"

A/N: I didn't abandon this fic, I swear.

So I finally updated! so so so sorry i was so busy on tumblr roleplaying ;A; please stay tuned for the next chapter!

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.