AN: Since another author bribed me to continue this with some of their own work, I decided to edit and post a less messy version. For those not familiar with Dungeon Crawler, this is an alternate continuation of a series, the prior installments of which can be found on my author page.
((()))
A crash of thunder, an explosion of smoke, but no visible flame. The smoke spread, dissipating as its particulate density within the air faded proportionately to its expansion, the gentle wind that bled through the courtyard beginning to carry it away. Not quickly enough to fully protect the courtyard's occupants though, as a chorus of young, and one old, set of lungs worked into small fits of coughing, the assorted mages' bodies trying to protect themselves from the impurities in the air.
Gradually the smoke cleared, and an array of teenagers, young men and women in the category society awkwardly treats as the transition between child and adult, became visible, supervised by a single middle-aged man. Set apart from the rest of the students, a slip of a girl with near-albino coloration, save the odd pink hue of her hair, stood in the epicenter of a circle, waving smoke away from her face, where it was still thick enough to somewhat obscure vision, as the epicenter of the thunder and smoke-burst was directly in front of the pinkette.
Once the smoke cleared enough for her to see what lay on the ground before her, she gasped.
"Professor Colbert!" She screamed, falling to her knees in front of the creature, hands reaching out to do something, but stopping short of touching it, because she had no idea what to do.
Laying out on the stone summoning circle before her, was a mutilated cat, its fur smoldering, fluid seeping from one smashed eyesocket, and entrails hanging out of its slit abdomen.
"Brimir's tooth," The middle aged man breathed, stepping forward and seeing the condition of the creature before him, then sucked in a deep breath.
"HEALER TO THE SUMMONING COURT!" He roared in a deep voice of command that caused all of his students, save the smallest, to jump in surprise.
He then carefully knelt down beside the cat as well, and to his considerable surprise, its head twisted around to face him, and the creature snarled at him, its front legs trying to claw it around to face him properly, but he could tell by the way its hindquarters did not move at all, its spine had been broken, partially paralyzing it. With an abbreviated motion from his staff, Colbert quenched the parts of its fur that were still smoldering, then with another, wrapped it in a barrier of air, immobilizing it.
"Sometimes familiar summonings pull the familiar from harsh circumstances," Colbert explained in a gentle voice to the distraught young mage who had summoned the injured cat, "It is uncommon, Miss Valliere, though not unknown, for them to arrive injured, though I have never heard of so severe a case."
"W-will she survive?" The Valliere girl asked tremulously.
Colbert glanced at the creature's crushed abdomen and groin.
"I will not lie to you, Miss Valliere," He says, "I have seen a fair number of wounds in my day, this one could go either way. It depends on how quickly he can be treated, and what level of care the academy Healer is willing or able to give a cat."
The pinkette looked up at him, nodding fearfully, her heart already going out to the creature, both for its obvious plight, and the fact that it would be bad news if her familiar died before she could even finish forming the bond with it.
"H-how," She stopped, cleared her throat, and then continued in a more steady voice, "How may I help, Professor Colbert?"
"Complete the binding," Colbert replied, "Many familiars become physically more resilient as a result of their master's magic, it may help stabilize him."
The girl nodded, and raised her wand, a look of concentration rising in her face as she opened her mouth and incanted.
"My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière," She said, "Pentagon of the five elemental powers; bless this humble being, and make him my familiar."
Then she leaned down, and gently kissed the injured feline on the snout. The cat tensed slightly as angular runes seared themselves into its forehead, and it glared at her, the seeping, ruined eye-socket on its right side lending horrible contrast to the fierce look in its left eye. Louise felt a chill go down her spine as she met that single, hard gaze, but refused to look away. What kind of noble would she be, if she could not even meet the gaze of her familiar, especially wounded as it was?
Her own gaze hardened as she glared back at the creature, and they conducted a small, but intense staring contest, until the healer arrived, and nudged Louise aside.
"Oh, hell," The healer said, looking down at the cat, "This is a familiar?"
"Yes," Colbert said firmly.
"I'll do what I can," The healer said, and with a flick of his wand, raised the injured beast off the ground, then set out towards the infirmary.
Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière sat in the infirmary, staring at the improvised bed her familiar lay unconscious on. Its right eye socket had been cleaned up, and out, and the slack eyelid over the empty socket was vaguely disturbing. The cat's distended belly, particularly swollen where irritated was tissue was swollen, even after the Healer had re-inserted the creature's entrails before sealing it up, was only more disturbing. Mostly because looking at it so viscerally reminded Louise that she had seen what was in there when it was not in there, but should have been.
She was still surprised that she had not vomited at the sight. A part of her mind that Louise was not very comfortable with at the moment notified her that there was at least one upside to her familiar's horrific wounds; not a one of her classmates had dared speak a word from the time she completed her summoning, to the time she left with the Healer. She still wasn't sure how to react to that.
For the first time ever, she had successfully cast a spell, and if she was honest with herself, if she could only ever succeed once, Summon Familiar was her best option to succeed at. A pathetic failure of a mage she might be, but with a familiar successfully summoned and bound, there could be no doubt that a mage is what she was. Even if she was the absolute least amongst mages, with this, she would forever be at least one tiny step above a complete failure.
It was small comfort, especially when she looked at her sleeping familiar, and saw how pathetic it looked, something that a deep part of Louise that she tried desperately to deny existed, insisted was only an appropriate reflection of how pathetic she was herself. In spite of that self-depreciating voice however, Louise felt a small warmth in her chest, and had to fight back tears as she reached out and touched her familiar.
This creature, this poor, injured, yet fierce creature, represented to her the only validation she had known since she first arrived at Tristain academy.
The next day, classes were canceled at the academy for second year students, so that they could spend time with their new familiars. For Louise Vallière, that meant sitting in the infirmary, staring at her recuperating cat. She wasn't exactly certain how to bond with an unconscious familiar, and after a minute or so went in search of the Healer that had treated her familiar.
"Excuse me," She asked him, "Is it safe to move my familiar?"
Looking up from the book he had been reading, the man studied her for a moment.
"The cat, right?"
Louise nodded in response.
"He's safe to move," The man said, "Just be careful, and no sudden movements, or pulling on his abdomen, rear legs, or tail. You're lucky your familiar is small, and a relatively simple creature, physically, I have been able to heal the damage to the spinal cord, but it's still going to take some time for it to fully recover. Even after that, it will be some time before it fully re-learns how to move everything below the base of its ribcage. If it had been a larger or more complex creature, say, a Manticore, it would have taken advanced reagents to heal."
Louise nodded.
"Thank you," she said quietly, and turned to leave, before pausing for a moment and continuing, "Is it safe for me to take him back to my quarters?"
The Healer nodded, not bothering to look back up from his book as he did so. Louise returned to where her familiar lay, then carefully picked up the wicker basket containing the cushion it rested on, and left the infirmary, heading back to her quarters amongst the students from more affluent and influential families. After a modest walk through the mostly deserted hallways, she arrived in her quarters, fumbling a bit to open the door without dropping the basket, then entered, pushing the door shut behind her.
After a moment's thought, she carried the basket to the window, then placed it on the window sill, so that the cat would be resting in the sun, something she recalled her elder sister's cats enjoying a great deal. It took her longer than she would have liked to drag her chair from her desk over to the window, but with her very petite build, and lack of magical aptitude, she simply did not have much strength to move it with. Soon enough though, she was seated in front of the low windowsill herself, and looking out over the courtyard, and the academy's outer wall, to the massive forest beyond.
A bittersweet smile crossed her face as she enjoyed the view that her family's proud status granted her; something she had initially desperately hoped to be able to earn when she arrived at the Tristain Academy a year ago, but had long since realized that was unlikely to ever happen. Sighing at the melancholy turn of her thoughts, she turned her attention back to her new familiar, and reached down to gently stroke its flank.
The sensation brought back happy memories of spending time with her elder sister, Cattleya, tending the girl's extensive menagerie of cute, interesting, and sometimes somewhat dangerous creatures. Her older sister was so gentle and patient with all of them, bearing many small scars that new additions had given her before they had come to recognize the sickly young woman as protector and provider, rather than predator or prey. Louise found herself desperately desiring her elder sister's gentle embrace just then, as tears again threatened to come to her eyes.
So often, it was like this when she was alone, the harsh need within her to always show strength, and nothing else in front of her peers falling away, leaving her with nothing but acute feelings of inadequacy. Shaking her head in an attempt to force her thoughts elsewhere, Louise looked down at her familiar, realizing her hand had come to rest over its heart, and she could feel the small organ's steady beating beneath her palm. It surprised her, how strong the sensation was.
On an impulse, she gently lifted the creature out of the basket, and pulled it into her lap, cradling it with both arms, and stroking its forehead, occasionally running her fingers over the small runes etched into its forehead. Her thoughts again drifted back to her elder sister, and life at home, memories both happy and painful. She didn't even notice when she drifted from daydreams, to dreams, falling asleep with her unconscious familiar held in her lap.
Louise woke with a start, not consciously aware of the sound that roused her, leaning around the side of her chair to look for the source of the sound she subconsciously recognized as the door opening. Standing just inside of the door to the hallway, a dark-haired maid holding a laundry basket stopped, startled to see Louise staring at her.
"Oh, pardon, milady," She said, blushing in embarrassment, "I thought all the second-year students were out on the grounds with their familiars, I did not mean to intrude."
"It is no problem," Louise said, waving off the maid's concern, "I do not mind."
The maid nodded, and turned her attention to the bed and changing out its linens, while Louise turned her attention to the warm bundle in her lap, which her still-waking mind quickly realized was her injured familiar, which was now staring up at her, with one good eye, and one empty eye socket. Louise was slightly unnerved by the gaze, but raised one a hand to stroke the creature's head reassuringly.
"Hey there," She said softly, "I'm glad to see you awake again."
Louise did not see it, but the maid working on her bed behind her started slightly. Louise's only experience with cats, and people around cats, had been her elder sister, and as a consequence speaking in a kind, encouraging way came naturally to her, if perhaps not as easily as it did to Cattleya. The maid behind her looked towards the back of the chair where Louise sat in confusion, then saw the basket and cushion on the window sill, drawing an accurate conclusion that the girl was holding her familiar in her lap, and speaking to it.
In Louise's lap, the cat simply continued to stare at her, not responding visibly to her stroking its scalp, which left Louise confused. She had never seen a cat behave in such a way before. But then, she realized, she has never seen a cat that is also a familiar more than merely in passing before either. She stared back at the cat, trying to figure out why it was staring at her, rather than either relaxing to enjoy her petting, or leaving her lap if it was irritated with her, like every other cat she had known.
"Oh," She said suddenly, "You probably can't leave my lap. Um."
At this point, her body moved far enough towards full consciousness for her stomach to alert her to its dissatisfaction with how much time had elapsed since she last ate, and growled. A faint blush covered her cheeks, as she looked from the cat in her lap, to her stomach, and the cat did likewise. She could have sworn the thing was smirking at her. Rolling her eyes, she carefully gathered her familiar against her chest, then stood, looking outside first to check the position of the sun, then sighing.
"I don't suppose they're still serving lunch," She said, turning to face the maid.
"No, milady," The maid said, as she finished laying out fresh bedding, "We started working through the dormitories after finishing with the lunch clean-up. Would you like me to order you something from the kitchens when I head down to the laundry?"
"That would be excellent, …?" Louise trailed off meaningfully as she looked at the young maid.
"Siesta, Milady," The maid said, "Do you have any particular preference?"
"No," Louise said, waving off the question, "Whatever is already available, just make sure to bring some meat and milk for my familiar.
For the first time, Siesta's attention was drawn to the cat Louise was holding, which was squirming a little in her grip. She took in the empty eye-socket, the patchy fur and scarred ear, as well as how its hind quarters twitched spastically.
"Oh heavens!" She breathed, "I'd heard that one of the newly-summoned familiars was taken to the healers, milady, but I had no idea it was so serious! Is there any way I can help?"
"Just the meal please, Siesta," Louse said evenly, carefully keeping any extra warmth she felt towards the servant's obvious concern of her injured familiar out of her voice.
"At once milady!" The maid said, sweeping up her laundry basket, and rushing out the door, deftly pulling it closed behind her.
"Excitable, isn't she?" Louise murmured, before looking down at the wriggling cat in her arms, "Now what has gotten into you?"
Louise moved over to her newly-made bed, and placed the cat down on it, where it turned its attention to its rear half, and watched its legs, while the appendages twitched and jerked minutely.
"I'm sorry," Louise said gently, sitting next to the creature, and reaching out to stroke its head again, "You were severely injured before I summoned you; the Healer has repaired your spine, but you will have to learn how to walk all over again."
The cat tensed under her touch initially, but eventually just went completely limp, and closed its eyes instead. It was still silent and unmoving half an hour later when Siesta returned with the requested meal.
A week later, Louise entered her quarters silently, back stiff, shoulders straight, expression stony. She closed the door with absolute precision, then walked to her bed, and sat down on it. Her familiar, attempting to command his rear legs to move beneath his body under their own power, watched her move. Once seated, she took a deep breath, then lay down. After laying down, she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, her stony expression dissolving into one of misery as she foughts back tears.
"Damn that Zerbst," She said quietly, but forcefully, then turned her attention to regulating her breathing to prevent sobs.
Perhaps twenty seconds later, she was distracted from her internal struggle by a small, furry forehead head-butting her. She opened her eyes to look at the cat in confusion, which stared back with its one good eye, before licking her nose. Louise blinked, uncertain what to make of the action, and while she was frozen in surprise, the Cat pulled itself forward, then flopped its body on top of her head.
"Ack!" She exclaimed, bolting upright in an instinctive effort to get fur out of her face and nose, and tossing the cat off of her face and back onto the bed in doing so.
"What on earth are you doing, Familiar?" Louise demanded, staring commandingly down at the feline, which simply flicked its ears at her, then turned its attention back to trying to manage control of its rear legs.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour of one-sided interrogation attempts aimed at the unresponsive cat before Louise lost steam. By then thoughts of the Zerbst's words were far from her mind.
"Um, Lady Vallière?" A hesitant voice asked, and Louise turned to see one of the castle maids, Siesta, looking at her nervously.
"Yes, Siesta?" Louise said.
The girl waffled for a moment, shifting nervously, before extending her hand, which has something made from cloth on it.
"I am not sure if you desire it," She says, "Or your familiar would be amenable, but I made this for him."
Louise accepted the proffered item, and examined it. It was made of rough, but well-spun yarn, a hand-knitted piece that she knew represented a not-insignificant investiture of time and effort on the maid's part. It was an eye-patch, simple black, and scaled appropriately for a cat.
"Thank you, Siesta," Louise says, "I will see if my familiar appreciates it."
He did.
Three weeks had passed since the summoning ritual, and Louise's familiar had managed a halting mobility, though she found it somewhat painful to watch its lurching gait, especially when compared to the grace most cats moved with. It reminded her of her own failing attempts at using magic, except the cat would probably be able to gain a full range of motion, and as best as Louise could tell, she would never manage more than explosive spell failures.
Louise found herself beginning to respond to the taunts of her classmates over her failures more with stony silence, and less with loud counterattacks. She found she simply could not justify directly contradicting her classmate's words anymore, since she could not find legitimate grounds to claim they were not true. So instead she glared at her detractors, and discovered, to her surprise, that it was more effective in shutting them up than counterattacking had ever been. It didn't keep her classmates from mocking her, but it certainly stopped them for a while.
Now if she could just figure out why Kirche had stopped taunting her altogether. The Zerbst woman made no sense.
((()))
Louise sat cross-legged on her bed, idly stroking her familiar's stomach. It lay beside her on the bed; she had given up on trying to pull it into her lap when she wished to indulge in some cat-cuddling; if it was willing to move into her lap, it would put itself there. It was in some ways a fussy creature, she had found; it did not like being held against her chest, but would ride on her shoulders or let her cradle it like a baby. It also always seemed to be doing something, generally systematically working the muscles in its lower legs.
It was very unusual behavior for a cat, but then, Louise had never known a cat that had to re-learn how to walk before. Still, she'd never seen a cat be so rigidly methodical about something, or object to gratuitous attention and petting. Every time she was sad though, it came to her, and would cuddle, something she was profoundly grateful for; she felt desperately alone in the Academy place now, as her silence steadily isolated her more and more from her classmates, and she just wanted to know that someone cared. Even if that someone was just a cat.
He was still her cat, her Familiar, and evidence that even if she was almost utterly incompetent in its use, she had magic, and was thus a mage. She found herself clinging to that fact more and more as time went on, and teachers bothered with her less and less.
Thump. A deep, resonating vibration rippled through Louise's room, jerking her from her thoughts, and her Familiar to his feet.
"What was that?" Louise breathed quietly, while her familiar shakily walked towards the edge of the bed nearest the window.
"Here," She said, scooping up the cat while she scooted off of the bed, and walked over to the window.
Thump. Crack. This time, the deep tremble through the stone around them was accompanied by the sound of stone shattering, and as they looked out the window, they saw an enormous figure of stone attack the castle wall for a third time. Louise's familiar squirmed in her grip, and she reflexively released it to stand on the windowsill.
Thump. Crack. This time, the wall crumbled, and the golem moved through, into the castle courtyard, aiming to attack the central keep. The crumbling stone of the wall proved unsteady, and almost cost the Golem its footing, but it abruptly regained its balance, and pressed on.
Thump. This time, the blow caused the castle to shake so hard, Louise compulsively gripped the window-sill for balance.
Thump. The Golem struck again, but the castle keep was heavily enchanted, and much more resistant to damage than the outer wall.
Bump. Louise felt the familiar sensation of her Familiar head-butting her, and looked down at it. It stared her pointedly in the eye, its good eye faintly luminescent in the starlight, its eyepatch utterly black against its dark fur, then looked down at the windowsill.
Thump. Resisting the urge to look back at the Golem, Louise followed the cat's gaze, to where it had scratched something into the windowsill with its claws.
Explode it. Louise's eyes widened as she realized first what her familiar intended, and then that it was intelligent enough to not only comprehend human speech, but write it as well.
Thump. Furious, mad hope rippled through the very core of her being. No longer was she the zero, the near-useless mage who had barely even been able to summon a mundane, and heavily injured familiar; now she was Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, third daughter of Karin the Heavy Wind, with her own unique and magical familiar.
Thump. She might not be able to create anything but explosions with her magic, but sometimes, this time, an explosion was exactly what was needed.
Thump. Holding firmly to the window frame with her right hand, Louise retrieved her wand with her left, and began to focus her magical energies, channeling every bit of willpower she could muster into the spell that was forming in her mind.
Thump. It was not a standard spell; in fact, it was about as far from a standard spell as one could get, and still be casting magic.
Thump. It was a simple, concentrated thought, more an intention than anything else, a deep, fierce expression of a heartfelt desire to make something happen.
Thump. Drawing back her wand, the tip of which was glowing, Louise's gaze happened across her familiar's face for a moment, where she saw a wild light in his eye that reflected the light in her own.
Thump. Her familiar suddenly snarled, a feral, triumphant expression and sound of anticipation, and Louise's head snapped around, a fierce smile of exultation on her face as she thrust her wand at the Golem.
Thump.
"EXPLOSION!" Louise screamed, and the world turned white.
((()))
Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt Zerbst was, quite naturally, curious as to what had roused her from a rather exciting dream during the night; unfortunately for her, her room did not offer a view of the outdoors. By the time she had roused herself from her bed and thrown a cloak on over her nightwear, the attack had halted.
For a moment, so had Kirche's awareness of the world around her. When her mind reconnected properly with her senses, she was sprawled out on the floor of the hallway, between her own and Louise's rooms, and her ears were ringing. Shaking her head, she rolled awkwardly to her feet, then lurched over to Louise's door. Ignoring the ringing in her ears, she opened the door.
Inside, she found Louise, rolling around on the ground in what appeared to be some sort of convulsive fit, but as she lurched across the room, and the ringing in her ears began to clear, she realized the girl was laughing. It was not a pleasant laughter either, a wild mad sound, a mixture between excessive mirth, and insanity. As Kirche's hearing returned more fully, Louise's laughter receded into demented giggles, and she began to mix words with her fitful mad mirth.
"Boom!" Giggle, "I tell you-" Giggle, "To explode!" Giggle, "And BOOM!"
Reaching the girl, Kirche stumbled to her knees, and braced Louise's shoulders against the floor, holding the unresisting girl in place while she checked her over for injuries. Finding no blood, nor obvious gross physical harm, Kirche stood, and moved to the window. On the windowsill she found Louise's mutilated cat familiar, unconscious and wedged against the side of the frame. Gently pulling the small creature away from the side of the window, Kirche gently probed its head and back. There was the beginning of slight swelling on the creature's crown, but no sign of a fractured skull, so Kirche turned her attention to the courtyard outside the window.
Or the courtyard that should have been outside the window. Fire, magma, shards of stone, what looked like the remnants of a massive stone pair of legs, burning shrubbery, and the ruins of a large portion of the castle wall met her eyes where the courtyard should have been. Shock turned to horror as Kirche spotted a human shape, the hem of its cloak on fire, trying to crawl out of the crater that formed the centerpiece of the entire mess.
"Louise," Kirche whispered, looking back to where the oblivious pinkette was cackling madly, "What have you done?"
((()))
When Matilda de Saschen-Gotha awoke, her entire body tingled, except for her legs. In the fog of semi-consciousness, that seemed strange, but hardly something worth being alarmed over. Some time passed; she was not certain how much, but it had to be a fairly substantial portion of time, judging by how the shadows around her shifted, before her mind truly began to clear from the haze it awoke in. Shaking her head slightly to try and clear the rest of it, she sat up in bed.
Something seemed off as she moved, but Matilda concerned herself first with taking in her surroundings; she was in the academy infirmary. It was mid-afternoon, and this room was empty, save for herself and a short, very slender pink-haired student that Matilda could not quite remember the name of. The girl was sitting cross-legged on her own bed, absently petting a mangled cat in her lap, and directly facing Matilda, though her eyes were covered with a bandage.
"I'm sorry Miss Longueville," The girl said very seriously, "You were severely injured when I repelled the Golem's attack last week. I take full responsibility for this."
"…What happened?" Matilda asked, as she searched her memory for the girl's name.
"Professor Colbert told me that the Golem was most likely being directed by Foquet of the Crumbling Earth," The girl said, "As it was attempting to break into the Vault. I destroyed it with an explosive spell, and you were caught in the blast."
Matilda's eyes bulged, and she stared at the diminutive pinkette in shock. She remembered the girl now; she was Louise Valliere, called 'The Zero' mockingly by her classmates, for her inability to successfully cast any magic. Matilda looked to the cat in the girl's lap again, this time noting the runes branded into its forehead, that marked it as a familiar. That alone, put the lie to her being as incapable as her classmates thought, but it did not answer the question of how a slip of a second-year student could destroy one of her more powerful golems with a single spell.
Charlotte Helene Orleans, Matilda reminded herself sharply, closing her eyes, and gritting her teeth. Matilda both hated and commiserated with the girl; she reminded Matilda of everything she was herself, but Matilda could not forgive the girl for having given up the way she had. More relevant to the immediate circumstances, however, was the fact that the girl was a triangle-level mage, and had been named Chevalier before she even reached the academy. Matilda firmly reminded herself not to underestimate someone merely because of their age, especially when she knew so little about them.
"I'm sorry," The small girl said again quietly, before turning her attention more fully to the cat in her lap.
Matilda did likewise, examining the mutilated animal in more detail. It was staring at her with one eye, the other covered by a simple knit black eye-patch. The fur around its face was mostly intact, though one of its ears was missing a chunk; the rest of its body fur was a mess. Small patches were covered only with scraggly white fur, what had managed to grow through the scar tissue, and there were several long grooves where some sort of slashing weapon had apparently wounded it badly enough that no fur had grown back at all.
It was the eye, though, that drew her attention again and again; it was an eye that was far too intelligent for a simple cat, and spoke of a terrible insight that she did not want any living creature here at the Tristain Academy to have into her. She turned away from the disturbing gaze, and looked back to the creature's master.
"What spell did you use?" Matilda asked.
"Explosion," The girl answered quietly.
Matilda blinked, more than a little startled, and considered the kind of explosion that would be necessary to destroy one of her golems. She would have thought a Shatter, or perhaps a Melt spell, from a fire or earth mage, but Explosion? And why were the girl's eyes bound?
"Lady Valliere," Matilda asked hesitantly, "What happened to your eyes?"
The girl smiled sadly, before responding.
"I was looking directly at the golem when I cast," She said bitter-sweetly, "The flare was so bright, I've at least partially blinded myself."
She turned to face Matilda then, her sad smile deepening.
"Don't worry," She said, "My father, Duke Valliere, is sending a party to bring me, and if you wish, you as well, to our family estates, to see the family healer. My family is wealthy, and if you will permit, miss Longueville, I will have you brought with, and ensure that you are healed as well."
Matilda turned her gaze away from the student-mage to herself, trying to figure out what Louise was referring to. All of her body parts seemed to be in place, with no obvious damage…
But her legs didn't move when she told them to. Stark terror shot through her like a bolt of lightning, and Matilda suddenly, desperately, wanted to scream.
((()))
Some hours later, Kirche headed for the infirmary, having come as soon as her classes finished, dragging Tabitha with her. One of the maids, Siesta, had told her shortly after lunch that Louise had finally woken up, but her cursed professor Earth (a woman, of course, no man could refuse her,) had not allowed her to leave until class had finished. Her rival had been in a healing trance for a week! Did the woman not understand how important a good rivalry was? Or how hard it was to find a good rival?! They were in just as short a supply as good friends!
When she arrived at the infirmary, Tabitha in tow, she found that not only Louise, but also the headmaster's secretary were awake.
"Good afternoon, Valliere!" Kirche said brightly, "You don't know how to do anything by half measures, do you?"
"No," Louise said quietly but evenly, turning in her bed to blindly face the Zerbst, "I don't."
"What's with the blindfold?" Kirche asked, surprise slipping in to her voice.
"The Healer believes I may have blinded myself," Louise said calmly, stroking the familiar resting in her lap, "And did not wish to risk exposing my eyes to light until someone more experienced with battlefield trauma has had a look at them."
This revelation stopped Kirche cold, an experience she was both unaccustomed to, and uncomfortable with. She didn't really know how to respond to such a statement, especially when the normally highly excitable Valliere was dealing with it so calmly. Kirche desperately looked to Tabitha for some kind of input, and the bluenette responded in her usual, short form.
"Sorry," Tabitha said quietly, looking over her book for a moment, and then adding, "Comfort."
Kirche nodded decisively, then moved around Louise's bed, sliding onto it to sit behind the diminutive mage.
"What are you-" Louise began, turning to track the sound of Kirche's movement, but was cut off when the larger Germanian pulled the girl into an overpowering hug.
"Mmph!" Louise protested, but the Germanian simply tightened her hold on the smaller girl.
"Stupid Rival," Kirche said forcefully, her voice thick with emotion, "You can't go blinding yourself! There isn't a single other Tristainian worth taking as a rival in the entire Founder-cursed student body. Don't be so reckless!" She said, her voice rising nearly to a shout, "Good rivals are hard to find!"
Several long moments of silence passed, the students, save for Tabitha, oblivious to Longueville looking on in shock and confusion.
"Mmph?" Louise asked in confusion.
"Of course I'm worried about you!" Kirche said, "Where else am I going to find a suitable Valliere with which to continue our wonderful feud?"
"Mm-mphm?" Louise asked, confusion only rising.
"Of course not!" Kirche said, sounding positively scandalized.
"MrmphMPH!" Louise insisted, but Kirche shook her head.
It was the prick of a small cat's claw that finally drew her attention to the fact that she was accidentally suffocating the smaller girl, and she released the Valliere scion.
"Gah!" Louise gasped, taking great, heaving breaths that gradually restored her color, while her familiar stared up at Kirche reprovingly.
"What are you doing?" Louise demands harshly, once she had regained her breath, "You are my enemy. What do you hope to accomplish with this false display of compassion?"
Kirche blinked, brow furrowing in confusion at the girl's response. Taking hold of the girl's shoulders, she looked the girl up and down, searching for something that she could not seem to find.
"What has happened to you these last few weeks, Valliere?" Kirche demanded, "Your fire, it is dying!"
Louise's expression, directed at the dusky-skinned Germanian, hardened.
"Any 'fire' I may or may not have, dying or not, is hardly of concern to you, Zerbst." Louise said harshly, but to Kirche's disappointment and confusion, it was not the riposte or opener to her own side of an argument she had hoped for, but a rejection, a refusal to engage.
Lending weight to Kirche's observation, the blindfolded girl turned sharply away from the Germanian, and turned her attention firmly back to the cat in her lap. The cat, however, continued to stare at Kirche, its one-eyed gaze terrifyingly intense, questing, asking, demanding something of her, even if it held no judgment in and of itself. Kirche would long deny it, but in that singular moment, the cat was suddenly the most terrifying thing she had ever seen.
She fled the infirmary.
((()))
"Hello, Eleanor," Louise said politely from the chair in her room, stroking her familiar as she heard her older sister enter.
She heard Eleanor stop, and could just picture the surprise on her sister's face. How would a blindfolded girl know just who had entered the room, after all? After a moment's hesitation, she continued across the room to stand before her youngest sister.
"Louise," She said bluntly, staring down at her sister in a long-practiced intimidation tactic, "The letter was not long on details; how have you managed to blind yourself?"
"But sister!" Louise exclaimed in mock surprise, "Did you not see the condition of the Sunward courtyard for yourself when you arrived?"
"Of course," Eleanor said harshly, impatiently, "What does that have to do with your eyes?"
"I cast an explosive spell," Louise responded, her calmness of tone a weapon against her sister's short temper, "And was looking at my target when I cast it. It was brighter than I expected."
Eleanor gave Louise a Look. Unsurprisingly, it had no effect, though the maid in the room standing beside Louise's packed luggage did feel a shiver go down her spine, without the look even being directed at her.
"I do not tolerate lies," Eleanor said harshly, "What really happened?"
"What cause have I to lie?" Louise responded calmly, to Eleanor's raising ire.
"You have not succeeded in casting a single spell in the entirety of your life, Louise," Eleanor said sharply, "The amount of destruction wrought on the courtyard would require square-level magic. It is impossible for you to have done such a thing, therefore, whatever your motivation, you are lying."
"You are wrong on both counts, Eleanor," Louise said, smugness beginning to edge into her voice, "I successfully cast both the Summon Familiar, and the Bind Familiar spells at the beginning of Spring, so even before the courtyard, you were wrong twice over. As to requiring square-level magic, while I am certainly most experienced at conjuring explosions, I did not fold any element upon itself to create this one, so-"
Louise was cut off by a sharp slap from her eldest sister.
"Silence," Eleanor said, and the room was indeed silent.
Louise lifted her hand from where it had been stroking her familiar, to her slowly-reddening cheek, delicately tracing the skin where her sister had stuck. Eleanor watched the girl with unforgiving eyes, while the cat in her lap looked back and forth between the two of them.
"Mother will hear of this," Eleanor said, her voice as granite, "Now it is time for us to depart."
"Yes," Louise said, turning her blind gaze up to her sister, anger entering her tone for the first time since the elder woman had entered the room, "Mother will hear of this."
Her voice dropped to a much more normal tone before she spoke again.
"Siesta?"
"Yes milady?" The maid said.
"If you would be so good to summon the porters, and send a quartet of them to collect Miss Longueville and her personal effects?"
"Yes milady," The maid answered, and quickly darted out of the room.
After the maid left, Louise relaxed back into her chair, and returned to stroking her cat calmly, paying her sister no mind. For several minutes, silence passed, and Eleanor realized, somewhat to her surprise, that she was feeling uncomfortable in the presence of her youngest sister.
"So," She said, determining to regain control of the situation, "How have your studies proceeded?"
"Until the assault on the castle," Louise said calmly, "I continued to hold first rank in my class regarding academics, and last regarding practicum. Since then, I have retained Siesta, the maid who just departed, as my handmaiden to read the relevant class material aloud to me, and take dictation for the purposes of my studies. She has been most efficient, and my professors have lodged no complaint over my performance since I lost the use of my eyes."
Eleanor was silent for a moment, flustered with how Louise mentioned her blindness so carelessly. She honestly could not think of anything else to say, so decided to remain silent until the maid returned with the porters, and instead studied her sister. There was something different about how Louise held herself now, and now that Eleanor was paying attention, it was both blatantly obvious, and pervasive. It was as though something that had been held at tension within the pinkette had settled, something that had been held captive had been released.
Whatever the change was, Eleanor could tell it would have a deep effect on the nature of their relationship.
"What happened to you?" Eleanor demanded, "You are not as you were before."
"As I stated previously," Louise said, "I have gained some control over my magic, however limited-"
She cut off as her familiar abruptly launched itself from her lap, and she heard a scuffling sound in front of her, then a thump, followed by her familiar hissing. Eleanor, the only human still capable of clear sight in the room, had just wound up on the floor, with a face-full of cat. Louise's familiar currently had its paws hooked behind her ears, was glaring at her with its one good eye, and hissing something fierce.
For the first time since she entered the room, Eleanor's attention was drawn to the familiar runes engraved across the cat's brow.
"Myoztherin?" Eleanor breathed, "Louise, what kind of sick joke is this? You would brand some poor mutilated cat with the Myoztherin runes? Have you no decency?"
"Have you no sense?" A male voice interjected from the door, "Or would you not expect a Mage's familiar to protect her when you attack her right in front of it?"
The cat snarled, lending weight to the new arrival's words.
"Professor Colbert?" Louise asked, surprise evident in her tone, "What brings you to my door?"
"I came to see you off, Miss Valliere," The balding man said, stepping into the room, "And advise you of something before your departure, though it appears your eldest sister has already realized what I have to say."
"What would that be, Professor?" Louise asked respectfully.
"The runes your familiar bears," Colbert said, "Are the runes of the Myoztherin, the 'Mind of god,' most powerful of the four familiars of Founder Brimir."
Silence reigned in the room after that proclamation. Louise became utterly still, Eleanor stared at the professor, brow furrowed with concentration as she studied the older man. Louise's familiar, meanwhile, leapt off of Eleanor, back onto the lap of its summoner. Colbert simply studied the three beings in the room, though his gaze was somewhat harsh when it touched Eleanor.
"Why did you not mention this before?" Louise said eventually.
"At first because I was not certain," Colbert said, "Eventually, however, because the Myoztherin is named the 'mind of god' for just cause, its power is predicated on it being a sentient being."
"And a common cat is no more than a beast," Louise said after a moment, "But you chose to tell me before I departed the Academy, as you did not think it appropriate to withhold such information from me once I was no longer readily at hand to inform."
Colbert nodded, then remembered Louise could not see him.
"Yes," He said, "Your time as my student is coming to an end, and as such it is no longer my place to determine what information to divulge to you, and when."
"I appreciate your candor, Professor Colbert," Louise said, giving the man a warm smile, an expression that startled Colbert, in no small part because he suddenly realized he never recalled seeing such a thing on her face before.
"You are familiar to me," Eleanor said, "But I cannot clearly remember you. Who are you?"
"I am Jean Colbert," Colbert said, "I used to be a compatriot of your mother, though I have not regularly associated with her in nearly twenty years, since I took up my teaching post at the Academy here."
Eleanor's attention was on Colbert, not Louise, but the professor noticed slight tightening of Louise's jaw at the mention of her mother, and he ruthlessly suppressed the urge to sigh. Karin, he thought, You were ever the peerless warrior, but you still do not seem to understand how to be a parent.
A polite cough from behind him interrupted his train of thought, and he turned to see a maid, Siesta he recalled, behind him, and a quartet of porters.
"Well," He said, turning his attention back to the Valliere daughters in the room, "It seems the porters have arrived, so I will bid you both farewell. Please greet your mother for me."
And with that, he left. The Valliere sisters were silent as the porters began carrying Louise's luggage out, and Siesta quietly guided her lady out of the room.
((()))
The journey to the Valliere estate took five days by carriage, and between Longueville's paralyzed legs, and Louise's blindness, the group was not prepared for any swifter form of travel. It was an uneventful if tense journey for Louise; she could sense that Siesta was afraid of Eleanor, even if her own fear of her eldest sister had died the night she had blinded herself. Fortunately, Eleanor spent most of her time talking with Longueville, the pair finding common ground in the frustrations of dealing with the administrators of the academic establishment.
Louise spent most of the journey speaking quietly with Siesta of their families, and lives. To her belated surprise, such a conversation came easily to her, making Louise very aware of just how thick the barrier between the nobility and commoners usually was. Siesta seemed continually surprised that Louise cared to ask about her own family, something that Louise felt was very significant somehow, but spent little time dwelling upon, as the larger portion of her attention was drawn to how she could hear the smile and warmth in Siesta's voice when she spoke of her sisters, brothers, mother and father.
Louise found herself jealous of that warmth, a painful realization, and one she knew she would not have been willing to make before her blindness. It was during one of the quiet times of the trip, when conversation had run out, and everyone was lost in their own thoughts and the sounds of the carriage and horses moving across the roads, that Louise realized that what she had feared most of all, being cast out of the nobility as a failure, incapable of magic, becoming a 'mere' commoner, may not have been so terrible as she had thought.
From what she gathered around the edges of what Siesta had to say, the most frightening thing to commoners, was the whims and tantrums of the nobility, and that was something Louise had to suffer already, from her eldest sister. There was something important about that, that the greatest fear of a noble would be becoming a commoner, and the greatest fear of a commoner being the nobles themselves, but Louise wasn't quite sure what it was.
What she did know, was that Siesta, who she had originally selected to hire as a handmaiden because the slightly-older girl got along well with her familiar and had taken care of the cat while Louise was unconscious, had begun to treat her differently. She suspected that the girl's willingness to take the position was also connected to the common ground they held over the cat, but something had changed in how Siesta respected her. The girl had always shown respect, as befitting a servant interacting with a noble, and she still did, but there was something different about it. Louise's inability to grasp what that difference was, on top of the other things she did not quite understand, frustrated her.
It was strange though, for all that these new, unknown things frustrated her, she still felt more at peace than she had since before she began her studies at the Tristain Academy. That much, she at least understood. She had driven herself blind to do it, but she had finally accomplished something with her magic, and now that she had opened her mind the possibilities, she was not blind to just what she was capable of.
Louise would never be blind to what she was capable of; what she had done to the Sunward courtyard may be the last thing she would ever see, and the sight was branded irrevocably into her memory. She had something of her own, her own ability, her own achievement, her own accomplishment, and no matter what anybody, commoner or noble said, she was not worthless. It would be interesting to see how this newfound discovery affected her relationship with her mother.
At the end of the five-day journey, she found out.
((()))
"Hello mother," Louise said courteously as Siesta's guiding hand on her elbow indicated with a tug for her to stop.
"Hello Louise," Her mother said, her sharp voice giving away as little as ever, "How was your journey?"
"Educational," Louise replied, "It is an interesting feeling of helplessness to be in a place you do not know, without the ability to see."
Her mother was silent in response to that, and a small part of Louise felt victory at that. Louise had joined her mother, and surpassed her eldest sister, in capability to unnerve conversational opponents. Or at least so she hoped; without being able to see her mother's face, she couldn't be sure what, exactly, her mother's response was, though silence was certainly uncharacteristic.
"Well," Her mother eventually said, "Let us retire to the sitting room, and you will fill me in on the details of what happened at the academy once we are situated," Louise heard her mother begin to move, and Siesta tugged gently at Louise's elbow, guiding her after her mother, who apparently noticed the action, as she asked, "Who is this that accompanies you?"
"This is Siesta," Louise said, "I have hired her to serve as my handmaiden since the incident. Her service has been more than satisfactory, and her literacy has helped me continue apace with my studies."
"You are literate?" Her mother asked as they moved, and Louise could tell the question was not directed at her.
"Yes milady," Siesta replied quietly, "Most families in Tarbes teach their children to read."
"Unusual, amongst commoners," The Lady Valliere said.
"Indeed, Milady," Siesta said, "It is a tradition I have not heard of amongst other towns or villages."
"Neither have I," Valliere said, and then paused for a moment, Louise heard a door open before her mother continued, "It is fortunate for my daughter, however, to find one such as you available to enter her service. I must request however, that you leave us at this time, as I need to speak with my daughter alone."
Louise felt Siesta hesitate at her side, and her heart was warmed slightly by the young maid's loyalty. It would not do, however, for her maid to come into conflict with her mother. The results would not be pretty.
"Please find a member of the household staff to guide you to my sister, Cattleya," Louise said, "And inform her of my return. If you would also speak with her of my familiar, she is quite knowledgeable about cats, and will no doubt be interested in his condition."
"Yes milady," Siesta said, and squeezed Louise's arm slightly before leaving, surprising Louise with the gesture.
And then Louise was alone with her mother. Well, her mother and her familiar, but it was not as though the creature could speak, even if she remembered with sharp clarity its clawed message on her window-sill. A half-blind cat was somewhat faint comfort when stacked up against her mother, but Louise found her arm was raising subconsciously to stroke the cat on her shoulders regardless. Her mother's firm grip encompassed her other hand, and guided her directly to one of the finely crafted wooden seats in the sitting room, and Louise sat, hearing her mother seat herself a few feet away in front of her a moment later.
"So Louise," Her mother said, and even without her eyes, Louise could sense the full weight of the Lady Valliere's attention upon her, "What, exactly, led to the current condition of your eyes?"
"It is very simple, mother," Louise said, surprised by how even her voice remained under her mother's scrutiny, "A golem of considerable size was assaulting the Academy, and upon the urging of my familiar, I deliberately cast an explosive spell upon it, with as much force as I could muster. The blast destroyed the golem, did considerable damage to the Sunward courtyard, and injured both Miss Longueville and myself. According to Professor Colbert, the golem was most likely controlled by Foquet of the Crumbling Earth, in an attempt to break into the Academy vaults."
"I saw this Miss Longueville, as your sister escorted her to one of the guest quarters. She is paralyzed below the waist. What were your injuries?"
"According to the healers, I suffered from a concussion, burst ear-drums, and flash-blindness. They blindfolded me out of concern that my eyes do not seem to be healing properly; aside from this, I only suffered from some minor bruising, much like my familiar."
A long silence passed, and Louise transferred her familiar to her lap, and soothed herself by stroking it. Unusually, it did not simply relax bonelessly in her lap, but instead stared at her mother. At least, that was what Louise assumed, his head certainly seemed to be pointed in the direction which her mother's voice had been coming from.
"You say 'at your familiar's urging,'" Her mother finally said, "What exactly do you mean?"
"He clawed 'Explode It' into the window sill," Louise said.
"This would suggest he is intelligent, hardly a common thing for cats."
"Indeed," Louise responded simply.
Silence came again, but this time Louise could feel her Familiar's muscles tense, something she assumed to be a result of what had probably turned into an outright staring contest between her mother and the cat.
"His eye," Her mother eventually said, "Reflects far too much intelligence for a normal cat. Do you know what happened to the other?"
"He was heavily wounded when my summoning called him," Louise said, "His eye was spread over most of his face, his entrails were half out of his body, and he was covered in slashing wounds, as well as suffering from a broken spine. The healers were able to treat him, but he still has not recovered full mobility, and they did not have the appropriate reagents to re-grow the eye."
"I see," Her mother said after the silent moment Louise had learned to recognize as someone nodding before realizing she could not see the gesture.
"You mentioned a Professor Colbert," Her mother continued, "Would this be Jean Colbert?"
"Yes," Louise said, "He sent his regards, and delivered some strange news before we departed."
"Continue," Her mother said after a moment.
"He said that according to his studies, the runes that mark my familiar are those of the Myoztherin, the Mind of God."
Louise felt a deep sense of satisfaction when she heard her mother's sharp intake of breath; she could number on one hand the number of times she'd seen her mother's control crack, and she had never been a cause of such before herself. It was some time before her mother spoke again.
"Only the Founder ever bound such a familiar," She said flatly, "He was certain?"
"Yes," Louise said, "It surprised me just as greatly as it has you."
Another long silence passed, though this time, she eventually felt her cat relax back onto her, its staring contest with her mother apparently over.
"Was there any indication as to what injured it before you summoned it?" Duchess Valliere asked.
"The best guess from the healer was several knives," Louise said, "Though he was not very certain at all."
A dry scratching sound drew the attention of both Louise, and her mother, to the table where her familiar sat. Louise could not see it herself, but she strongly suspected that her familiar was writing something on the table with his claw. Louise winced; the table was a rather expensive hardwood, and her mother was unlikely to be pleased if it was substantially defaced.
"What is he saying?" She asked tentatively.
"'I broke a Dragon's artifact, and it got angry with me,'" Karin said flatly, "Something I find rather unlikely."
More scratching.
"No," Her mother admitted, "I would not have considered a cat with human intelligence likely either."
Silence passed for some time, as neither had anything in particular to say. In the past, the silence would have been filled with Louise's nervous words, but she was no longer nervous. Eventually, enough time passed that Karin determined she would not be able to sweat her daughter into speaking, and she was on the whole pleased with the change.
"Very well then," Karin said briskly, "It is time for me to test the veracity of your story. Come with me to the lake, and show me your explosion.
"Yes mother," Louise said, and Karin could detect the faintest hint of grim anticipation in her voice.
((()))
"Cast your spell," Karin said firmly, standing beside the lake near their manor.
"Not until I can feel your face pressed into my back," Louise said, calmly, serenely, and with the subtle absolute surety that Karin had long since learned to recognize as useless to fight against.
Finding such assuredness in her daughter was more than a little shocking. She could not, however, allow her parental authority to be challenged utterly with contest.
"Do not presume to command me." Karin asked sharply.
"I do not," Louise replied calmly, "I have simply stated the terms by which I am willing to fulfill your command."
Karin paused a moment to think about that before responding.
"If you tell the truth, this is acceptable," Karin said, "If you do not, there will be punishment. Why though, do you not simply insist on a blindfold?"
"I will not take chances with my mother going blind," Louise said firmly.
"Acceptable," Karin said, nodding, then crouched down and gently pressed her face between her daughter's shoulders.
Louise was then treated to the unique sensation of her familiar crawling halfway down her face to cover her eyes with its own body. She supposed it was only fair, though.
"Please raise a shield around us, mother," Louise said, and began to focus her willpower.
Karin, considered by some to be the premier battlemage in all of Halkeginia, had no need to see what she was shielding, and raised a stout shield around herself and her daughter with a single gesture. Her daughter continued to gather her willpower, focusing it, condensing it, directing it, until Karin could feel Louise's body trembling with the pent up energy.
"EXPLOSION!" Louise screamed, and Karin felt as though the world was ending.
((()))
Siesta was having a positively heart-warming meeting with Louise's older sister, Cattleya, whose every move and expression radiated such a calm gentility that Siesta could not help but like her on first impression, despite her being nobility. That Siesta had found her in the menagerie the girl kept, tending gently to the wide assortment of animals, including some dangerous predators, all of which seemed completely at ease in her presence, only made the impression sink in more strongly.
The deafening explosion that sounded from across the manor-complex, however, put an end to Cattleya and Siesta getting to know each other, and to Siesta's distress, knocked Cattleya off of her feet, even though she herself was able to compensate easily. Knowing exactly who had caused the explosion was not exactly reassuring either, but like a good servant, Siesta immediately set about assisting the noble in need before her.
((()))
She could see the explosion, through her daughter's body, through her closed eyelids. Karin was suddenly glad her daughter had been so insistent, and could all too well understand how her daughter had blinded herself. Karin realized that she was flat on her back, with her daughter sprawled out on top of her. Also, she thought her nose might be broken.
These thoughts took perhaps a single second to complete, before Karin's long-honed battlefield instincts kicked in, and she rolled her daughter off of her, leapt to her feet, wrapped a shield around them, and took stock of the surrounding territory. She was appalled at her slow response time, and determined she had grown overly confident that she had encountered more or less everything that the world had to throw at her, and would need to seek out new things to expose herself to and learn how to respond to the unknown again.
Her examination of the surrounding area, however, derailed this train of thought. Louise's targeting had gone somewhat awry, not altogether surprising considering she was blindfolded, and her spell had instead detonated along the western shore of the lake, south of the manor and its outbuildings. A small forest pressed up against that shore of the lake, a forest that was now noticeably smaller. The forest was a mixture of deciduous and coniferous trees, and the area immediately around the blast was comprised primarily of pines, which even from a quarter mile away, Karin could see had been crushed into splinters and kindling.
The blast wave had, of course, rapidly lost power as it spread, losing the power to fell fully mature trees within perhaps a dozen yards, but it had stripped many, many more of their leaves or needles, most of which were lazily floating back to the ground as she watched. Small plumes of smoke also denoted spotfires that she knew would need attention quickly, before they grew out of control. None of the estate's buildings had been noticeably damaged, and no predators were fleeing from the forest in her direction, so Karin turned her attention to her daughter beside her.
Louise had pulled herself into a seated position with her legs crossed, and was calmly holding her familiar in her lap, petting it slowly. Karin was struck then, for the first time in several years, with just how small her daughter was. Since she had entered adolescence, Louise's personality had become progressively more fiery and forceful, giving her a presence most were not even conscious aware of, a presence derived from how she simply hurled herself into any and every task or endeavor she engaged in.
Now though, for the first time in five years, Karin saw her daughter when Louise was neither angry, nor afraid, and it reminded her that her daughter really wasn't much more than five feet tall, even though she was fully grown. That Louise was seated, and blindfolded, did nothing to detract from the impression of smallness.
"You stopped Foquet with this spell?" Karin said, raising her voice as she spoke to compensate for healing dulled by the explosion.
Louise nodded, and long moments of silence passed while Karin thought, and Louise cuddled with her cat. Karin was unable to think of something appropriate to say, and eventually decided to go deal with the fires.
"Remain here until someone comes to escort you back in," Karin said, "While I go deal with the fires."
Louise just silently nodded, and Karin strode swiftly towards the forest.
((()))
"Are you certain you'll be alright, lady Cattleya?" Siesta said, fretting over the pink-haired girl who was now laid out carefully in a hay bale.
"Quite," Cattleya said, her voice weak, but her face smiling, "If that was the work of my sister, you must go and check on her. Besides, my own maid-servant will be out to check on me quite soon herself, no doubt. If anyone questions you, you may tell them I commanded you to go."
"Thank you," Siesta said swiftly, then bowed and scurried out of the now-calmed menagerie in a rush.
((()))
Siesta found Louise sitting calmly with her familiar near the lakeshore, doing nothing in particular. Siesta approached swiftly, seeing little reason to dally or be subtle.
"Mistress Louise?" Siesta called hesitantly as she approached, and the pinkette turned her head.
"That sounds like Siesta," Louise said, "My hearing is somewhat impaired from the explosion though, so I am not sure. Please speak up."
"Mistress Louise," Siesta said, raising her voice slightly, but counting more on the lesser distance to her employer
"Yes, Siesta?" Louise asked, turning to blindly face her maidservant.
"What happened?" Siesta asked.
"My mother asked me to demonstrate the spell I used to stop Foquet," Louise said, grinning slightly, "She has gone to put out fires."
"Ah," Siesta said, a small smile working its way onto her face and into her voice, "You must have held back this time, milady."
"What makes you say that?" Louise asked, raising an eyebrow from beneath her blindfold.
"I don't see any magma," Siesta said with a smirk.
((()))
End chapter 1.
((()))
AN: Much better, eh?