"Ah, Lord Nightroad, you have returned," Isaak smiled at me, looking me up and down. His smile faded, "I take it the trip was not a success… You were not able to merge with him?"

"No. It seems he's told Cardinal Sforza more than he should have… She knew how to save him, and sent that android of hers with the red-haired witch's blood to resurrect him." There was a mild amount of irritation in my voice, as this was a minor setback and nothing more. So, Albion had named that Esther girl as its new queen? She could be easily dealt with; she knew nothing about ruling a country. I knew the power of the Vatican could not last forever, because, as all things do, and as the church itself had done before, its power would wane and give way to a new one. With luck, the Order would take its place… But now that I was short one of the usual members… Isaak seemed to notice, glancing behind me as if expecting a certain someone to pass through the enormous wooden doors behind me as he always did and greet my ebon-haired Methuselah.

"My Lord… Where is Dietrich? Did he decide to stay behind?" He was curious then, but I knew he wouldn't be pleased with my response to that question. Not pleased at all. I debated whether or not to tell him the truth, but my silence was doing nothing for poor Isaak's nerves. "M-my Lord?" I sighed softly,

"Isaak… You know I don't tolerate failure, especially not from my Mages of the Silver Star," he nodded feverishly, "Dietrich had failed me numerous times, and I had asked you to deal with it, but I fear your punishment was not harsh enough. I had to step in myself once he failed to keep Abel from following him, so I killed him." Even though his expression did not change, I could tell he took the news hard. He was silent for a long time, the usual expression on his face unaltered, but he had to force the smooth, velvet tone back into his voice as he spoke this time.

"I understand, my Lord… Your word is law, and Dietrich failed to do as you asked… If you will excuse me, I must prepare for dinner… Balthasar is in the kitchen if you need him." He bowed to me, turned on one polished, booted heel and left, far too quickly to be normal. I did not follow him, leaving him to his own devices. I knew he and Dietrich were close, as I had charged him with the boy's care myself, but they were far closer than teacher and student. He closed the door of his room to play his organ like he always did before he ate. This evening, the tune he played was excessively mournful, the notes slow and deep. I was intrigued slightly, but did not go to him then. I myself had things to do before dinner.

When the time finally came, I was the first to enter the Great Hall of the Neumann brothers' castle and take my seat in the elegant chair that they had given to me as a gift. It was a lovely one, as was their offer to allow me to use their castle as headquarters for the Order. There were many members, and all needed accommodations, so when we were all brought together this was the only place large enough. The hall itself was lovely as well, lit all along the walls with oil lanterns and a large, crackling fireplace behind me that fought back the bitter cold of the Austrian winters. I trailed my fingers along the polished cherry surface as the door at the opposite end of the hall opened and my Order members filed in one after the other, standing behind their chairs. Some of them were saddened, no doubt by the news that Dietrich was gone, but there was one who was not bothered at all… In contrast, she seemed to be startlingly happier than I had seen her in a long time.

Her icy blue tresses were bound tightly in buns, as usual, her uniform more noticeably taken care of than it had been the week before I had gone to find Dietrich. The collar of her uniform was cut dangerously low, exposing her pale skin, the skirt cut from her mid thigh to her ankles to show off her usual pair of fishnet stockings and tall, high-heeled boots of shining black leather. Perhaps my eyes lingered a little too long on her, but only Isaak seemed to notice, as she was taking back her original place, on my left hand side, where Dietrich had been once he was a fully commissioned member of Rosenkreuz. Isaak's stony countenance faltered a little when she plopped down in her seat smugly, crossing her legs and smiling at me, but he acted as if nothing was wrong.

I motioned for them to sit when their plates had been filled, and they did, Helga immediately pouring my wine for me, starting up conversation that she hadn't had with me for years.

"So… How did your trip to Albion go?" she rested her chin on a long-nailed hand.

"Naturally, the Vatican found a way to foil my plans, and I'm surprised to find that Abel actually confided himself entirely to one of the Terran. I never thought he would…"

"To Cardinal Sforza?"

"Yes, very good of you to notice his relationship with her." She beamed, excessively proud of herself now, basking in the glory of regaining her seat. She was not the least bit ashamed of her happiness, and I saw Isaak's fork halt as he lifted it from his plate, and his eyes closed for a moment. He breathed deeply, slowly, and continued to eat. Beside him, a man with shaggy blond hair, the Lycanthrope named Guderian, stroked his sleeve, muttering comforting words to him in German, only turning to his food when Isaak told him to do so. Helga smirked, not because it pained Isaak to see her in that chair again, I was sure, as she was not that kind of woman as far as I knew, but because she was once again right beside me. The closest she was ever allowed to get, or anyone was allowed to get, for that matter, Isaak being the only exception to that rule.

"Kämpfer, I vould have sought you of all people vould have taught Dietrich better zan zat." Perhaps I was wrong. She was that kind of woman. Jealous of him, perhaps, and this was her only way to get back at him. I wouldn't stand for that. Not Isaak. Isaak looked up at her, and opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted, silencing them both,

"Helga, don't torment my Magician." Her blue eyes widened, and she bowed her head,

"I… I am sorry, Mein Herr… I apologize…" Isaak met my eyes, thanking me silently for stopping her, but even without her words, he left the table as soon a he could. This time, I decided to follow him. I was usually the first to leave the table anyway, ending the conversation with Helga to follow Isaak, my footsteps making no echo off the stone walls. As he closed the door to his room, he left a small crack, through which I watched him. He stood there, motionless, for a while, breathing deeply, and then went to his wardrobe, where he pulled out another uniform, but this one was not one of his. The red band around the left upper arm bore the Marionette symbol, marking it as one of Dietrich's. It didn't surprise me that they shared the same room, but Isaak's next action was unlike anything I had ever seen of him.

He brought the uniform to his lips, and slowly sank to his knees, his long, raven hair obscuring his face. He was shaking, rocking back and forth. I knew he was sobbing. Honestly, I didn't think I was capable of feeling such an emotion as concern or com-passion, but Isaak always seemed to bring that out in me. Slowly, I pushed the door open, crossing the room to him and kneeling beside him. He did not notice until I laid one hand on his back. He jumped,

"C-Contra Mundi!" and quickly attempted to dry his eyes and hide all evidence of his breakdown, but I caught his chin, and forced him to look up at me. He was a mess, black strands sticking in the tear stains on his cheeks.

"Isaak, it's all right… I understand that it hurts you. You were close." Isaak stared at me, dumbfounded, for a moment, and I stroked his silken hair and smiled. He collapsed against me, his head against my shoulder, one hand fisted in my robe, the other clutching the late Puppet Master's uniform. It startled me, but my hands found his back and rested there.

"It is not only his death, my Lord… It hurts me that I was the one to train such a failure… I thought I could stamp that cocky attitude of his down, but I was wrong… And I couldn't… Could not have done what you did…"

"He didn't suffer, if it comforts you. I made sure of that, because I knew what it would do to you if he had."

"Th-thank you…" he was silent for some time, his breathing calming as we stayed in that position, my hand finding a smooth stroking motion along his back that seemed to do wonders for him, relaxing him. It was strange to see such a soft side to him, of all people. He was the best con artist I knew, his smooth voice coupled with the piercing stare from those dark eyes of his able to manipulate even the toughest opponent. He was a powerful ally, and made an excellent lover. I found I sort of liked him this way, at his most vulnerable, a side that no one was allowed to see but me. I planned to keep this side all to myself.

It was getting late… I started to stand, to take him to his bed, but he did not release his hold on my robe.

"Lord Nightroad… Please, may I stay with you? I… I do not think I can stand being alone tonight," his muffled voice reached my ears, and I thought for a moment, smiling.

"You didn't have to ask. You are always welcome." A smile turned the edges of his lips, and he rose to place Dietrich's clothing on his bed, arranging it neatly before returning to me as I, too, stood. I led him from his room, offering him more than emotional support alone. If Helga were to see… Her subordinates would never hear the end of it.

((And, I'm sorry to have to break it to you all, but this is the final chapter for this story. I hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it! More Trinity Blood to come, I promise!))