XI. The Healing of Injuries
"By the Founder, what a mess," Osmond sighed unhappily as he looked over the devastation before him. He was staring out of the rather sizable hole in the wall of the Academy's vault and down onto the garden below, watching numerous officials and staff members run around attempting to maintain some form of order.
What was once a pristine and beautifully tended courtyard in the most prestigious institution for magical learning in the world now looked like a filthy rock quarry. Not only was there a gigantic mound of dirt in the center of the destroyed lawn, but the structure of the Academy building itself had become marred by numerous cracks and impact points caused when the golem exploded. Its former ivory walls were now stained brown from the damage. All the windows facing into the courtyard also had to be repaired, and the rooms connected to them cleared of debris. The school's cleaning staff had been run ragged over the course of the past six hours, attempting to clean the mess as best as they could through mundane means. Many of the professors helped by clearing out the heavier wreckage using magic. The students had been confined to their dorm rooms for their safety while the cleanup and investigation was underway.
"Lord Osmond!" The Headmaster turned around and saw Professor Colbert walking through the ruined vault towards him. The man had managed to catch a few hours of sleep last night, and thus today he was not looking as ragged as he had during the past few weeks. He was still stubbornly on the trail of Siesta's killer, and admitted to making some remarkable strides. For example, he had discovered that the vampire had more than likely left the Academy grounds, as there was news from the capital that two bodies had been found in a similar state to that of the poor maid's. Colbert had planned on heading out to investigate further after the Evaluation Fair had concluded, but once again it seemed that events conspired against him. He had to cancel his plans since Osmond required his assistance to help with the current crisis.
"Yes, Jean?" The old man asked as Colbert joined him to look upon the devastated courtyard below.
"All the students have been accounted for, as well as the staff and faculty," he told him. "Except for Marceu the head chef and Ms. Longueville, who are both on paid leave, everyone who lives and works within the Academy has been confirmed safe. The captain of Princess Henrietta's guards assures me that all of his men are accounted for as well, so I am happy to report that there were no casualties during the incident. Well, aside for Ms. Valliere, of course."
Osmond nodded. "Yes. I am glad to hear it. This incident, as bad as it was, could have been much worse. I thank God that there was no loss of life."
"Yes." Colbert sighed, then allowed himself to soak in the destruction in front of his eyes. "I am still amazed that a commoner was able to take on a rock golem of that size. Truly, the power of the Gandalfr is as amazing as the legends claim."
"That's where you are wrong, old friend," Osmond stated. "According to Ms. Tabitha's account, it was Ms. Valliere who defeated the golem."
"What?" Colbert looked shocked. "B-but that can't be. She is incapable of casting even the simplest of spells..."
"Be that as it may, remember what she is, Jean," Osmond explained. "She summoned one of the Founder's legendary familiars. Logically, this means that she wields Brimir's element: the Void. We shouldn't be surprised that the young lady is able to wield such power."
The professor frowned. "You're right. None of us know just what a void caster is capable of. It has been over six thousand years since the last Void Mage was seen. What's more... Ms. Valliere is untrained! Can you imagine the power she will hold if she were to fully realize her potential?"
The Headmaster nodded. "Quite a frightening thought indeed. This is why we must keep quiet about Ms. Valliere's abilities. There are many who will fear her and try to do her harm, as well as those who would covet her power and seek to use her as a weapon." The old man frowned. He looked up at his younger colleague and decided to change the subject. "Well, enough of that. What do we know of the thief?"
Colbert looked away from the hole in the vault's wall, then headed back into the storage area. The Headmaster followed until they reached the section where the Staff of Destruction had been stocked. Above the empty shelf where the item had lain, carved into the stone wall in neat, cursive handwriting, was a message.
The Staff of Destruction
is in more capable hands.
Let the Nobility of Halkeginia despair!
For Foquet is among you!
P.S. Go to hell you disgusting old
fossil Osmond!
OXOXOX~ Foquet
Old Osmond's eye twitched upon reading the last part of the note. "My my, this Foquet is quite the cheeky fellow! What do we know of him?"
Colbert sighed. "Not much, I'm afraid. Real name, age, place of birth, even gender is unknown. His aliases are Foquet the Sculptor, Foquet the Crumbling Dirt, and Foquet the Dark Jewel. He, or she, has been notable for stealing from some of the most well guarded estates on the continent, and has numerous bounties on his head in Gallia, Romalia, and Germania. This is the first time we're aware of, though, that he has attempted such a high profile theft."
"Hmm," Osmond began rubbing his beard. "We need to get more information. Jean, could you please inform me when Ms. Valliere wakes up? We will need to hear her account of the events in order to plan our next move."
"Sir?" Colbert asked, confused. "What do you mean? I thought the palace had taken over investigation of this matter."
"Bah!" The Headmaster sneered. "Those fools will merely make a mess of this, and most likely sweep it under the rug to avoid scandal. Or worse, they'll try to pin it on a scapegoat. No, this theft shines a bad light upon out prestigious institution. This thief has made fools of us all. If we are to uphold the honor of this Academy, then we must apprehend Foquet ourselves."
"Yes, of course. You're right." Colbert smiled. It was moments like these that reminded him of just why the old man before him was held in such high regard. Despite his numerous... eccentricities, Osmond was definitely a very sharp and capable leader.
"Where is Miss Valliere now?" the Headmaster asked.
"Oh, she is in her dorm room recuperating," Colbert said. "Princess Henrietta is with her."
"Oh?"
"Yes," the Professor smiled. "Apparently Louise is an old childhood friend of Her Majesty's."
"Really?" Osmond's lips twisted up into a vulgar grin. "Are you sure they're just friends? Because young, healthy women of their age are known to... experiment with each other during times of great stress..."
"L-Lord Osmond! Please!" Colbert choked out in a scandalized tone. Damn it, why did the old man always say such horribly perverse things just when he started to admire him a bit?
"Ho ho ho ho ho," laughed the Headmaster as he rubbed his beard, thoughts of sapphic delights dancing in his head.
0
Foquet the Crumbling Dirt entered her room at the Academy. The thief frowned at the sight of the simple quarters; hours ago she was sure she would not ever see it again. Unfortunately, events had forced her to change her plans.
She had returned to the school dressed as her alter ego, Ms. Longueville, and told the administrators that upon hearing word of the attack, she decided to cut her leave short. She offered her full support at such a trying time, and of course the old fool of a Headmaster bought her lie easily. He then embraced her, his hands wandering to her posterior, but Foquet let him get away with it. She would have aggravated her injuries if she attempted to mutilate him.
As soon as the lock to the door was bolted, Foquet all but collapsed against the wooden portal. She let out all the pain and exhaustion that she had been hiding since she entered the front doors, and the relief almost caused her to black out.
Her hand clutched at her left side, feeling the bandages underneath her robes. Her cursory evaluation after the battle had revealed three broken ribs as well as a bad laceration in her left leg. All in all, it wasn't too bad. A lesser mage would have probably died in such a massive explosion. The thief had managed to bandage her injuries to the best of her abilities, but she knew mundane first aid was no match for a water mage's healing magic, but that was a luxury she could not afford at the moment. She would have to take it easy or risk aggravating her wounds.
"Damn that girl," the thief cursed, thinking of the pink haired student who had almost killed her. Foquet had never in her life seen a magic blast so powerful; was that the power of the Void?
The thief shook her head, vowing not to underestimate Louise Valliere again. She limped towards her bed and gingerly sat upon its soft surface, flinching slightly when her broken ribs protested. She sat silently for a moment, trying to ignore the aching of her body while she plotted her next move.
Foquet sneered. Planning? Why was she bothering to plan again? So far, all of her plots and machinations had been ruined at every point, and she had almost lost her life because of several unforeseen events.
It all started to go wrong in the beginning, when she had arrived outside the Academy vault's door. It had been the perfect time to strike; with Princess Henrietta at the Evaluation Fair, the majority of the school's woeful number of guards were at teh event to protect her. All of the students and faculty were also in attendance, so the wing of the building was completely empty. Unfortunately, she found that the magical barrier for the doors had been much too strong for her to damage. She went outside and attempted to get through the vault's outer wall using her golem's brute strength, but the wards surrounding the building proved to be just as impossible to break.
Her bad luck continued when who would just happen to stumble along other than the Void Mage and her familiar, the Gandalfr! Foquet had lucked out for a bit when the Valliere girl used her power to shatter the wards, thus allowing her to enter the vault and claim the Staff of Destruction. But her good fortune didn't last as moments later, that blue haired little brat with the dragon arrived to harrass her and her golem. While this was going on, the Gandalfr attacks and almost kills her, revealing itself as something other than human.
What the hell was that thing, anyway? Foquet shivered upon remembering its rows of vicious, knife-like fangs in its open maw and the hungry stare of its blue, glowing eyes. The creature couldn't have been a vampire, since it had been broad daylight when they had fought. A demon, then? Perhaps a chimera created by a rogue Gallian mage?
Bah, it didn't matter. As frightening as that creature had been, it was easily dealt with. Whatever it was, it seemed that a spear of enchanted earth was good enough to kill it. Foquet had been so distracted with her relief at surviving the monster that she had failed to notice the Valliere girl until it was too late. Thankfully she had been fast enough to surround herself with a thick stone shield before the girl's explosion hit.
After digging herself out of a pile of rock and dirt, she saw the devastation wrought by the unknown spell. Her mighty golem had been reduced to a giant heap of earth. With her willpower almost depleted and knowing that she was out of time, Foquet ran. She used the smoke as cover and sank herself into the earth, making a tunnel under the Academy's walls to make her escape. She emerged some meters away within the treeline outside the school grounds, wherein she ran like hell with the Staff of Destruction in tow. She didn't stop running until she was halfway to Tristania, which was when the adrenaline wore off. The pain then hit, and she quickly realized just how injured she had been.
The thief took a moment, a moment too long in her opinion, to bandage her wounds. She then planned on heading off to La Rochelle, as her plan called for leaving the country by airship. Before she set off though, Foquet opened the box to check the Staff. The legendary item was just as strange as she had heard; it looked more like a short green metal tube than a proper staff. In fact, it was quite heavy and she wondered how anyone could use such an unwieldy thing for a focus. It was then that she attempted to use it in order to gain a sense of just how powerful the item really was. But try as she might, the damn thing refused to work. She used every incantation she knew, from simple levitation to the most powerful of her combat spells, but nothing happened. There was no effect.
Foquet cursed like a sailor. She knew that she had the Staff of Destruction; it matched every description she had heard and was housed in the ornate case that had held it. She deduced that there must be some type of ritual, or perhaps a magical incantation that needed to be spoken in order to activate the Staff's destructive abilities. Whatever it was, Foquet didn't have a clue. If she couldn't figure out how to activate the relic, then the Staff was all but useless. Months of work, her entire life savings, down the drain.
The thief refused to leave it at that! Foquet quickly came up with a plan, one that involved heading back to the Academy in her Longueville disguise. She would then string along the faculty, and lead them into a trap which would force them to reveal how to activate the Staff. It was a longshot, but she was desperate. She had put all the funds she had accumulated, all the favors she had earned over the years, into getting a position as Osmond's secretary without anyone becoming suspicious. If she could not discover the Staff of Destruction's secret, then all her sacrifice would have been in vain. It wasn't like she could sell the thing, either. By now news of the Staff's theft would have spread across the country. Soon, every kingdom in Halkeginia would know that Foquet the Crumbling Dirt had stolen the Staff of Destruction. The relic would be too infamous of a commodity for any rich collectors to risk buying.
No, she didn't steal the Staff to sell it, anyway. The Staff, this powerful and legendary instrument, was hers to use. It would be the item she needed to take back her nobility. With it, she could regain her title, get back her family's name. With such power, anything was possible. Even impossible dreams.
Matilda de Saxe-Gotha lay down, cringing as a lance of pain shot up from her side. She smiled bitterly. So close. She was so close to her goals. She could not give up now.
"Please, God," she prayed. "Let this work out. I don't want to be Foquet anymore."
With that, Matilda closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. For whatever reason, she kept on seeing Louise Valliere's face, her pink eyes dripping with tears, as she begged her not to kill her familiar.
0
Louise groaned as she fought through the black, formless cloud of unconsciousness. Through the numbness she struggled, feeling as if her entire body was stuck at the bottom of a large pool of tar. Waking was like trying to swim through the thick, murky goo, but eventually her mind managed to push itself through the numb blackness and her eyes fluttered open. She flinched slightly as the morning light hit her eyes, the brightness stinging her still dilated irises.
"Louise Francoise!" she heard a voice call out, its tone warm with the sound of worry. "You're awake!"
She rubbed at her eyes with shaking fingers. Louise opened her mouth and attempted to say something, but no words came out. Instead she let out a dry gasp, followed by a small cough. Her mouth felt parched, her tongue feeling baked like the desert sands of the Sahara.
"Here," the voice said again shortly before she felt a soft hand cupping the back of her head. The hand gently tilted her face up and she felt the smooth rim of a glass pressed against her lips followed by the cool taste of water. Louise gulped the liquid down eagerly. As her thirst became quenched, the fog clouding her mind began to clear.
After drinking, she opened her eyes once more; this time the morning light did not pain her as much, and she was able to take stock of her surroundings. She found the familiar scene of her dorm room, and she was laying upon the comforting softness of her four poster bed. Seated next to her was Princess Henrietta, who gave her a warm smile.
"Y-Your Majesty!" Louise attempted to sit up, but the Princess placed her hands onto her thin shoulders to prevent her from moving.
"Come now, Louise Francoise, don't strain yourself." Henrietta gently pushed her back until she was lying comfortably upon her pillow once more. "And didn't I tell you to not to be so formal when we are alone? We are childhood friends, after all."
"Um, right. Of course." Louise smiled. The night before the fair, the Princess had visited her dorm alone and in secret, whereupon she expressed her desire to renew the friendship that the two of them had shared when they were children. Louise, of course, accepted with much enthusiasm. Sadly, Henrietta, or Anne as Louise had known her, had been the only friend she had ever had growing up, aside from her older sister Cattleya. Not only did her position as one of the Duke Valliere's children prevent her from having much interaction with other children, but once she began school none of the other students wanted anything to do with her due to her complete lack of magical talent. She had been so terribly lonely; in fact, it wasn't until she had summoned her familiar that she had truly had anyone to talk with.
Thinking about Rip brought Louise back to the present. Her eyes began to mist as she remembered her familiar's last few moments. She remembered seeing the blood pool around the dark haired woman's still, unmoving body after the enemy mage had cruelly speared her in the throat with a shard of rock. "Rip..."
"Louise, what ever is the matter?" Henrietta asked, concern in her voice.
"Th-that mage with the golem... What happened?" The pink haired girl looked up into the eyes of her friend. She banished the tears that threatened to spill from the memory of Rip's death. She could cry later. Right now, she needed to know if she had managed to at least avenge her familiar's murder.
"Oh, you don't remember? It truly was a spectacular explosion, Louise." Henrietta smiled. "From what I heard, you completely destroyed that golem." The bed-ridden student let out a small sigh of relief. "As to its creator, well, I'm afraid he had escaped. We could not find his body, so it is most likely that Foquet is still out there."
Louise bit the inside of her cheek as anger began to build within her. So she had failed. Again. Even after trying her hardest, she didn't even have the skill to avenge her fallen familiar. How typical of her. "Foquet? Is that the murderer's name?"
Princess Henrietta looked confused. "Murderer?"
"Yes!" Louise snapped. "That bastard killed Rip! He murdered her in cold blood, right in front of me!"
"Rip? You mean your familiar?" asked the Princess.
"Yes!" The pink haired girl's hands curled into fists, her mind seeing over and over the moment of her summoned familiar's horrible death. The rock piercing her skin. The spray of blood. The dark haired woman's long fall before slamming into the ground with a loud thud. The red puddle forming around her unmoving form. "I swear, I will avenge her! If it's the last thing I do, I will see justice done!" Louise vowed, voice hard and stern.
The Princess looked upon her old friend's grim expression before bursting out in a sudden fit of mad giggling. Louise gaped at the royal's behavior, her face looking utterly betrayed. "Y-Your Majesty? It... it isn't funny!" She then burst out into tears and covered her face with her hands, weeping in sorrow that her dear old friend could be so cruel. "I know Rip was just a commoner! And a familiar! But... but, she was my familiar, damn it! No, no! She was my friend! She deserved better than to be killed like... like a dog... she... I..."
Suddenly, Louise found herself becoming engulfed in a warm embrace. She stopped her sobbing when she heard Henrietta's comforting voice try to sooth her. "My dear, dear Louise Francoise. Please forgive me for laughing. I swear, it was not my intention to be cold. I just... it's was so..." She took a deep breath, but couldn't help it as she suddenly began to giggle again.
"Anne!" Louise protested and began struggling in the older girl's arms.
"Hush, Louise, it's fine!" said Henrietta. "Your familiar is not dead!"
That got Louise's attention. She pushed Henrietta back so that she could look into her eyes. "What?"
"She's not dead." The Princess smiled. "From what I heard she was injured, but she was never killed. She's completely fine!"
"S-she is?" Tears began to leak once more from the pink haired girl's eyes. This time they were tears of joy and relief, and not of grief.
It was at that moment that the door to her room suddenly slammed open, startling both girls. In walked the subject of their discussion, the not-dead Rip Van Winkle. She looked remarkably healthy (considering that the last time Louise had seen her she looked completely dead) and aside from her clothing looking battered and torn in places, she was personally unscathed. In her right hand was a gigantic tray laden with two plates of eggs, sausages, and bacon along with three bowl of fresh fruit and two glasses of milk; in the other was her ever present musket. Rip did not have her spectacles on, so Louise figured that they were lost during the battle. The dark haired woman looked much younger without them on her freckled face, and her dark blue eyes definitely seemed much more expressive without the round lenses to get in the way.
The familiar also seemed to be in a cheerful mood, as there was a wide, happy smile on her lips. "Guten morgan, Louise! Guten morgan, Princess!" she greeted, her Germanian accented voice matching the cheer on her face. "Since ze two of you did not make it to breakfast, I have raided ze kitchen and forced the chefs at gunpoint to prepare for you a veritable feast. You vere asleep for quite a vile, Louise. It vould do you good to eat and regain your strength." Rip hooked her foot around the leg of a nearby sideboard and pushed, sliding the small table along the floor to stop near the bedside where Princess Henrietta sat. "As for you, Your Highness, please accept zis gift as thanks for vatching over my little master all night." The familiar carefully placed the large and heavy platter of breakfast goodies onto the top of the table; both nobles were impressed, considering that she did it one-handed.
"Oh my! You are most welcome, Ms. Familiar, and thank you." The Princess gave the woman a smile along with a regal nod.
Louise remained silent, simply staring at Rip with her eyes wide. The last time she had seen the older girl was when she was lying still as death by the golem's feet, a sharp shard of stone slicing deep into the flesh of her neck with her blood spilling into the grass and earth below. Now here she was, walking around looking healthy with not a scratch on her! The flesh of the dark haired woman's neck was pristine, the skin smooth and pale without even a scar to show that a grievous wound that had once marred it.
"Wait! Wait! Hold on just a moment!" Louise complained. "H-how are you still alive? Y-you... I saw that mage stab you in the neck! And you fell from so high... and the blood..."
Rip snorted. "Oh, Louise. You should know zat I am made of sterner stuff zan that. Did you really sink that a mere flesh wound or simple fall vould be enough to kill an officer of Millennium? Ha!" She then smiled and bent down, pointing a teasing finger at her. "Oh, vait! I get it now! You vanted me to die, didn't you? I see, I see. If I did get killed, zen you vould be able to summon up a better, more obedient familiar! Zhat's it, isn't it?"
Although the woman was obviously teasing, Louise didn't take it as such. After thinking that Rip was dead and swearing in front of the Princess herself that she would avenge her, the fact that her familiar had the gall to insinuate such a thing! Fury welled up within her, and soon her blood began to boil.
"L-Louise?" Rip asked, straightening herself as she became worried.
Somehow, the pink haired girl managed to grab hold of her wand from somewhere. With a cry of "STUPID FAMILIAR!" she let loose her fury.
An explosion rocked the girl's dormitory, causing numerous students to scream.
0
"Oh, dear God, vhy do I have such a cruel and frightening master?" Rip asked the sky as she and Louise walked down the hallway, heading towards the Headmaster's office. The summons had come a few minutes ago from one of the professors, who requested that Miss Valliere and her familiar meet with the old man as soon as possible. The two of them said their farewells to the Princess after Louise had dressed and Rip was conscious again, and they quickly made their exit leaving the confused young royal to ponder just what exactly it was that she had been witness to.
"Oh shut up, you so deserved it," Louise grumbled, looking over her familiar, who didn't look worse for wear at all despite taking one of her explosions to the face. "I don't know why you're even complaining, you invincible freak. You're not even singed!"
"Like I said earlier, we in Millennium are made of sterner stuff," Rip said with a smile. She had draped her large musket across her shoulders and was walking down the hall with both arms resting lazily on top of it.
Louise rolled her eyes, but then looked pensive as a though struck her. "Hey, Rip. I always wanted to ask, but never got around to doing so. What is Millennium anyway?"
Rip frowned as her mind attempted to think of a clever yet truthful sounding lie. She had been dreading this question for a while and was quite frankly surprised that it had taken Louise this long to ask it. After all, she couldn't really tell her summoner that she worked for an organization composed of bloodthirsty vampires intent on bringing the world into a state of eternal war could she? "Millennium, " she began, "is... a group back in my homeland. Ve are soldiers and scien- er... mages, working to make ze vorld a better place for all."
"Oh," Louise said, looking somewhat disappointed. It was obvious the pink haired girl expected something a bit more grandiose. "So... they're like the Church, then?"
"Vell, yes. Ve have worked with the Church before." Rip bit her tongue to prevent a bout of laughter. It was true, after all. There was no way Millennium could have escaped from post-war Europe if the Vatican hadn't aided them in doing so. It's just too bad that the current Pope wasn't so keen to help them as his predecessors had been.
"Well, good," Louise stated after a long silence. Truth be told, she was somewhat disappointed. Because of her familiar's exotic nature and powerful abilities, she had hoped that the organization she had claimed to be a part of would have been much more impressive. But listening to Rip, it seemed like they were just a bunch of do-gooder mercenaries who lived out in the wilds of Germania.
Louise glanced up at her familiar, noting that for some reason the woman seemed unusually cheery today. Although she hadn't said anything, she had been noticing that Rip had become a bit taciturn as of late. The dark haired woman had tried to hide it, but Louise could tell that something had been bothering her. Then again, before this she had acted quite merry at times, but not to such an extent as she was now. Especially for someone who had almost been killed just a few hours ago. Louise also noticed the large brown stains fouling the collar of Rip's pink shirt, which was most likely dried blood from her previous grisly wound.
"I have decided!" The pink haired girl suddenly stated, her proclamation met by a curious wide-eyed expression from Rip. "Today, after we speak to the Headmaster, we shall head over to city to buy you some new clothes."
"Oh?" The vampire asked. "And vat brought on such generosity?"
"Well, you," Louise poked the woman in the side. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I've ever seen you change clothes since you got here."
"I vash them!" Rip stated in her defense, though her cheeks did turn slightly red in embarrassment.
"It's my fault, really. As a master it is my duty to look after all of my familiar's needs." Louise shook her head, mocking shame in herself. "Well, that ends today! While I'm sure you do well in cleaning your clothing as all peasants do, the fight with that Foquet thief has left your outfit in much need of repair. Since you only have one set, it is my duty as your master to get you more clothing."
Rip rolled her eyes. "Zat really isn't necessary..."
"I insist!" The pink haired girl exclaimed loudly. "As my familiar, your appearance is important as it reflects on me. What would society say if they see that a Valliere continues to let her familiar look like a slob?"
"Slob?" Rip gaped, looking down at her somewhat ragged outfit with worry. Sure, her clothes had seen better days, but they weren't that bad were they?
"Besides, those clothes don't really fit you too well." Louise eyed her familiar's black suit, pink shirt, black tie, white gloves, and dark boots. "No, you'll need an outfit that is a proper fit, otherwise people might think you're a man." Rip opened her mouth to argue, but Louise yammered on. "Aha! We'll get you several dresses, perhaps a few cloaks as well, or maybe some nice summer bonnets..."
"No," stated her familiar. "I told you before, Louise. I am not your doll. If you insist on buying me ze clothes, then I shall be ze vone to choose them."
"Oh, fine," the girl complained, her face puffing up into an annoyed pout. She continued to swear that one day she'd get her familiar into a dress.
Rip smiled, then began humming the tune to Engleland Lied. Despite her defeat yesterday at the hands of that Foquet mage, she felt remarkably upbeat. Before going to sleep, she had downed one of Dok's precious pills. And, just like a miracle, the dreams that had plagued her since she had arrived on this God forsaken world had not visited her while she slept. Her mind felt so free and unburdened without the weight of the past constantly crushing at her psyche. Oh, how wonderful it was to have a full day's dreamless sleep. She felt so free without the constant, overbearing reminders of her past sins; she was like a bird let out of its cage. Oh, if only she could fly forever!
Three pills left.
In fact, she had felt so fantastic after she had awoken that she went on a hunt. It had still been dark out when she got up, fully healed, and very hungry. She had to wait for that irritating Tabitha girl to stop her nightly dragon flights and get to bed before leaving the Academy grounds. She dashed through the night, keeping off the roads to avoid prying eyes, and eventually came to a small farm at the outskirts of the capital city Tristania. There she found a family of three, a father, mother and cute little baby.
She devoured them all.
Rip started with the infant, tearing its body open to feast on its innards, smearing blood all over the once clean crib. Then she moved on to the parents. Without so much as a sound, she bit into the father's neck, who awoke and began a futile struggle, one that didn't last very long since his throat had been torn out. His frantic movements woke the wife, though, and she began screaming as she watched, horrified, as Rip drank from the gaping wound in her husband's still convulsing corpse.
The wife ran, stopping by the crib, intending to pick up her baby before fleeing. But upon seeing the mess of meat and bone that had once been her only child, the mother broke down. She fell upon her knees and wept, which was how Rip found her a few minutes later. The woman looked up and stared into the vampire's eyes with a look of such pain; her eyes spoke volumes, telling Rip that she had taken the only two things that had ever mattered to her, the only two things that she had of value. The woman's eyes told her to do what she wanted, because nothing the vampire could do to her now could ever compare to losing both her husband and baby. Rip gave her a razor sharp smile, then tore into her flesh and drank of her grief. It tasted wonderfully bitter. Like apple cider that had been left to warm on a hot summer day.
Three pills left.
After having her fill, Rip felt even more wonderfully happy. Because she had eaten both the baby and the father, the vampire was much too full to completely drain the woman. So she decided to get creative, since any artist knows a full belly often gets the creative juices flowing. She found some paintbrushes in the corner of the small farmhouse next to an easel (the mother had obviously been an amateur painter) and quickly went to work. She tore open the woman's chest, then dipped the brushes into the wet gore within. The vampire sang merrily from Der Freischutz as she began to paint swastikas all over the walls of the house. She wasn't really sure why she was doing it, but it felt right. It made her giddy, so she continued to paint. The more swastikas she painted, the happier she felt. She painted small ones, big ones, even a gigantic one right outside the front door. By the time she was done, the entire interior of the house was covered in the red symbols. In the dark, they almost seemed to be moving, like little red bugs crawling all over the walls. The scene made her giggle. It was pretty funny.
Before she left, she made sure that the three corpses inside wouldn't return to life as ghouls. That would be bad because... well, she couldn't really remember why. She just knew it would be. So she grabbed an axe from the barn and chopped the father and mother up into tiny little pieces. She didn't need to chop the baby up since it was already pretty much shredded. Poor baby. He got all eaten up. Who could do such a thing?
Three pills left.
"I wonder what the old man wants," Louise said aloud, her voice breaking Rip's fond memory of the previous night.
"Hmm?" The vampire looked down at the girl, then shrugged. "It most likely has to do vith ze events of yesterday."
"Oh, yes, you're probably right." Louise sighed. "Hopefully the authorities will be able to catch that foul thief before he strikes again."
"I don't," Rip said.
The pink haired girl's eyes widened. "What? But why? He's a dangerous criminal!"
"Because, little Louise," her familiar tilted her head and gave her a smile, one so feral that it sent shivers up the pink haired girl's spine. "I vant to catch him myself."
Three pills left.