Anastasia watched him from across the table, her back to the lavender drapes and the light peeking through them. She was covered from head to toe in a long coat of white fur. Echidna had once told him it was polar bear. Atop her head was a winter hat, a bit longer at the top than a normal beanie, with an orange puff at the top. It was a wonder she didn't sweat. Especially with the fireplace in the corner raging like Roswaal's manor once had. Was she trying to make him?
Snowball's chance.
A maid poured out cups of tea before they began their discussion. A deep green. From Kararagi? Maybe it was a simple task, but the woman did it well, filling both cups the exact same amount. All the way to the top.
"You didn't stiff me on the tea," he said as the maid stood up and strolled from the room. She was as relaxed as Anastasia.
"Surprised, Natsuki-san?"
Ricardo shut the door behind the woman. He wore his old uniform, with the exception of old ornaments. A great blade still hung on his back. His hair was a touch changed. No longer the pristine coat of last year, when he'd gone to battle against Ley. There was an unkempt quality to it all, in some parts too long, in some too short. The other change was in his eyes, they were stark, cutting. A man determined. The lost name had left its mark, scraping away Ricardo's impurities.
Subaru lifted his cup, knuckles white around it. "No. You're not one for half-measures."
"Those in business can't afford half-measures."
"I find the opposite is true, usually."
"Are those opposites candidates for Lugunica's throne?"
"No."
Anastasia took a sip of tea, stroking the scarf laying across her neck. The white fox. Her secret. "Are ya, Natsuki-san?"
Ricardo's eyes bored into the side of his head, looming in the shade.
"I used to be." Echidna's man.
"I remember well enough." Her brows furrowed. "Dealing with ya back then." She shook her head. "Got a real good idea what it'd be like to negotiate with a corpse."
"That annoying?"
"Only because ya made a good offer, if ya hadn't…"
"I understand, I don't like dealing with myself." The second trial had been a fucking nightmare. He swirled his cup. "But half-measures," he remembered Ram, standing behind his shoulder, "not an option anymore."
"That why ya came to me last?"
"I need all the candidates."
"Honestly, Natsuki-san, we both know I'm going to help you. Just ease my curiosity, isn't she enough of a measure?" Her eyes flicked up to Ram. "My men reported very heavily on the Batenkaitos conquest."
"You should tell her she's safe." Nan whispered in his mind.
For a moment he was chained up, Capella's fingers digging into him. Her Authority working through his mind, poking through and making him feel pain fresh. Ram saying his name.
Otto's words from the second trial.
"You've got nothing to worry about." He took a pull from his cup.
Anastasia rolled her shoulders, jostling Eridna so the scarf's eyes focused right on him. "Good to hear."
He tipped his cup to the scarf. Anastasia stifled a flinch. The candidate smiled, "Well, let's get the formalities out of the way. What do ya want?"
His hand balled into a fist. "Same thing I wanted last time, I need a head rolling."
Her eyes glinted, bright in the sunlight. "Who's?"
"You'll have to join me in Priestella to find out. Don't worry, cult-related."
"And if I do, how are ya gonna to make it worth my while? Past a little fame."
"A lot of opportunities to make a few deals, all the candidate's will be there. And if you don't, that's a damn gamble, if there ever was one. You like risky gambles?"
"Depends on the stakes."
"Alright, the stakes. If we lose without you, then Lugunica's yours. Free for the taking. If we win without you, then Lugunica goes to Priscilla, Crusch, or Felt. I don't know how much you'll want Lugunica if we lose. Priestella will be a fucking crater after how hard we go down fighing. Then whatever military is left in the nation will be needed to fight against the cult, and you'll be queen of ashes."
"You paint a shitty picture."
"Insulting my oration or the quality of that future?"
"Both." Anastasia cocked her head, "And Barielle? You never truly approached her."
Subaru thought of her, thought of how little he'd bothered to learn about her, and thought of all he'd discovered anyway. "All the candidates in one place, sounds entertaining, doesn't it? She'll show."
"And if neither me nor Barielle show, and ya'll die fighting this mystery woman, then it'll just be me on her, yes?"
"Of course, the Royal Selection, down to the most popular noble in Lugunica and the foreign business woman. Who wins? I struggle to picture it."
Anastasia's face remained the same, her body was still, Echidna stayed a scarf, and the sun shone on. She offered her hand. "I've been meaning to make a trip there anyway. Got assets to check."
He reached back. He'd finally done it, officially. All the pieces were in place. "Thank you. Now that we're partners in this, any news on the cult?"
Anastasia shook her head. "Almost nothing. No attacks, no raids from Wrath, no sightings of that Louis ya told me about." She set down her empty tea. "Sloth has been as consistent a threat as the White Whale, nobody's seen him in over a year."
"Almost?" What was Pandora making them do?
"A few sightings around the Tigracy, downriver from Priestella." Anastasia answered. "They're the Witch's Cult, always up to some shit. I think ya right to get us all together there, some shit's going down soon."
"Anything in the Watergate City itself?"
"Some groups are growing vocal, mad about how long the Royal Selection is taking. They're whispering that the Sages should just throw Felt on the throne already."
"Hm." People angry at the government. "So nothing."
"Nothing." Shit.
On the edge of the foyer, sitting splayed out on a bench of ornate wood—adorned with carvings of lions roaring, dragons musing, and heroes crusading—was a knight. She didn't know his name, she didn't recognize his face, and she knew that was wrong. His name should have rushed into her mind, a result of all the work she'd put in studying. Even simply from parties, she would've seen this man with his wrinkled uniform and stubbled face. Six quasi-spirits hanging around his uncombed hair. Even she couldn't gather that many. This was a knight renowned across the kingdom, certainly. Under a portrait of the first Juukulius—with a frankly prodigal amount of spirits—was a legendary figure, who's name had slipped her mind.
But Rem hadn't beat her all through Echidna's grave for her to doubt herself like that. Before her was an error. No passing maid glanced his way. A sword-handle gilded in gold, an apathy to rival Subaru's when he was eating, and hair to match lilac, all treated like another piece of furniture. Another of the vases, another wilting flower, another thing for someone else to clean up.
"Hey…" she said, looking for a listener, "Hey, what's his name?" Emilia finally got a passing woman's attention. A demi-human with ears much akin to Felix's. The lady took a step back when she noticed who had spoken to her. There was a moment before the maid grasped her meaning. Then came a shrug.
She glanced back, bowing, barely even a dip of her head. "I'm sorry, Em… Lady Emilia. I have no idea."
"What do you mean?" she asked, ignoring the woman's displeasure. "He lives here, doesn't he? How do you not know it? That'd be…" she trailed off. That'd be like Otto not remembering Rem.
The maid shrugged. "I've never heard him say it, or anyone say it. Mistress Anastasia would know."
Emilia frowned. "I'll ask him." She should know. An error. A victim of Gluttony?
"I wish you luck." The maid sighed, saying it like Emilia was going off to fight Volcanica.
She frowned at the woman's back while she headed off to work. A future subject if she won the throne. Barely able to tolerate her long enough for a conversation. Emilia steadied her mind, like she was going off to fight Volcanica. This was the way of things, she had to take the first steps, always. The walk was further than she'd thought, and the man's eyes fell on her halfway through. She should turn back. He didn't want to talk to her. There was so much anger in his glare. Turn back. She kept walking, leaning down to sit when she'd reached the bench.
"Hey, what's your name, sir?" she asked, ducking under a painting of the first Juukulius and sitting beside him. She rested her fingers on the splintered wood. A little over the engraving of Reid Astrea cleaving the Witch of Envy in half.
The man looked down to the floor, his gaze swatted down by hers. "I…am no…" He paused, watching the wall as if someone better would burst through and see him, disabuse him of all his foolish notions. Emilia had been there, she understood the feeling. Understanding didn't mean fixing.
He took a deep breath, yellow eyes coming back to her. They were beautiful. The spirits floated round and round, glittering, adding a faint shine to them. "I don't have one." He swallowed. "A name, I mean."
"Of course you do, silly, everyone's got a name."
"And if no one remembers? If not a person in the world can name you? Does it matter? Is it still your name?"
Emilia leaned closer to him, "Of course it is. It's your name, you can still name yourself."
"And if I can't?"
Emilia knew how he felt…so well… Yet in times like these, the words never came to her. She wasn't Rem, she wasn't Subaru, and she wasn't a queen who could spit out a speech whenever necessary. All she could do was say the words she had. "Try?"
"Would it mean anything? Trying?"
"Isn't it all that means anything?"
"I suppose."
"Why don't you introduce yourself then?"
The man stopped, as if he'd never bothered thinking that far, never wanted to think that far. "Even if I introduced myself, it wouldn't mean anything. You couldn't talk to anyone else about me. The name's gone, stolen."
"Well…I could talk to you about you." Emilia said, but she knew they weren't the words to reach him. Could she find them? Regardless of her smiling, regardless of her support, and regardless of her smile, the man continued on with his despair.
"I told you, I don't know what my name means anymore."
"You look like a knight. A Spirit Knight."
"I'm not a Spirit Knight."
"And those spirits?" She gestured to the six of them. All floating, free, relaxed…aimless. Despondent. The words she must say came to her.
"None of them are contracted to me, they just exist with me, hoping I'll be what they want," he said. "Praying."
The window had closed, her right words had come at the wrong time.
She had to settle. "Why aren't you what they want? What do you mean?" Rem would have known what to do, Subaru would have managed something amazing, and Anastasia would have played the right cards. But Emilia was just Emilia. He was beyond her saving.
"Nothing," he said, "I mean nothing. I am nothing. I'm not what anyone wants…"
"Oh…" Emilia didn't even know the man's name. Should she talk to him? Should she ask him questions? Should she give him a speech? Should she punch him into some proper conclusion?
Maybe she could lead by example. "I feel like I should introduce myself."
"That's alright, I know who you are, Miss Emilia."
"I feel weird, not knowing who you are." It was all she could manage.
He smiled, faint, wispy, and fake. Like Subaru used to. "If you want to be a real candidate then you'll have to accustom yourself to that."
"But…I want to know everyone I meet, I don't like telling strangers what to do."
He said nothing.
"But I have to learn, don't I? Otherwise how can I help?"
"How indeed…" he whispered, staring off down one of the hallways. The boy, Joshua, watched from the silent corridor.
"Is that why you became a knight?"
He stopped speaking, returned his attention to the floor, and scuffed his boots along the carpet. He nodded. She didn't know what he was agreeing to, if anything. It didn't matter, he didn't want to talk anymore.
That was how everyone treated her eventually. She offered her hand anyway. "My name's Emilia, nice to meet you."
He gave it a limp shake. When she let go his arm flopped down and settled in his lap. No life remained. For all it mattered, the man was a part of the bench.
Emilia set her jaw. One day she'd know this man's name.
Old scions and heads of the Juukulius family lay on the walls, immortalized in paint and lacquer. All but a few held shining swords and wore the red and white of the Royal Knights. Then came the families, enshrined in gold and silver frames. Generations upon generations, from the founding of Lugunica a millenia past, to today, after the end of the nation's great dynasty. There was no trace of Julius, even in the most recent, even at Joshua's side.
"How do I make up for it?"
"For what?" Ram snapped back, "Be specific."
"I failed Julius, he lost his name because of me. How do I make up for it?"
"Kill Pandora and Louis, then it will never happen again. The mistake's been made, grieve and move on."
"Yeah…" Subaru sighed.
"She's right," Nan commented.
The spirit hadn't needed to speak. She was always right. But he'd find a way to fix it, to help Julius. "I knew it'd be Priestella."
"Somehow." Ram shook her head. He wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead, and steadied himself. He wanted to laugh. All these years, and he still felt nerves. It was all coming together in the Watergate city, the result of a year of work. Of thousands of years before that. The humor didn't quite make it all the way to his face.
"Yeah." The battle was set. It was only a matter of time now. "A few weeks left to prepare. She'll try and take me by surprise." Ley's blades flashing in the dark.
"Don't try and outplan her."
"Ram…"
"It's not your strong suit, me and Otto will figure it out for you."
"And where does that leave me?"
"To gather us all the tools and knowledge we'll need."
"Already gathered."
Ram scowled at him, "Then you have nothing left to worry about." She took his hands, uncoiling his fingers. "Sit back and look pretty."
"That all I'm good for?" He would've laughed about that, once.
"All? You say this as if it's a small task. Ram's expectations are quite high."
"Of course, they are," He put his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her forehead. Even if he was the one doing the kissing, it soothed all his worries away. They'd gotten this far together, they could bring down a witch.
They passed a marble bust of Farsale, one of Reid, and a small sculpture of Volcanica. The most recent paintings were of Joshua, from child to youth to teenager, none of his infirmity depicted in any of them. All the illustrations were incomplete, off-center, missing a subject. Subaru bit down until they reached the foyer. Within was Julius. Where the loss of his name had scraped away Ricardo's impurities, it had only heightened Julius'.
"Hey, Emilia," he called out to her, sitting beside Julius. Emilia always had been quick to help people like him.
They looked up. A smile spread across her face, white teeth shining perfectly. His spirits circled around his neck. Was Julius even breathing?
Before he could speak to the forgotten knight, Emilia asked, "How'd it go?"
Subaru breathed deep, "Pretty well, we got Anastasia on our side."
"Well that's great, Subaru." She frowned, then pushed her face back into a smile, "Are we heading out now?"
"Yeah, you guys go get Patrasche ready." Fuck, he had to do it anyway. "I'll be there in a minute."
And the two men were alone, only their spirits to keep them company. Subaru held his hands behind his back. If he drew Julius' spirits to him, even by accident… Few mistakes could be so damaging.
"Julius…".
The knight's lips parted, "Natsuki Subaru." His spirits were silent, drifting along the air like motes of shining dust.
"Been a while." His skin was crawling. Say more, he had to say more.
"A long while."
"Did you get my letters?" There'd never been a reply.
"Yes."
"I talked to Crusch, about getting you reinstated."
"I'm still…a knight." Julius dusted off his sleeve, it just mucked up his glove.
Say more, say the right things, say what had to be said. "That's good. We'll need you in Priestella." He had come so far, he could let his emotions out, he could apologize. But Ram wasn't here… Another mistake.
"I'll be there…"
Reach out. Do what he'd done so many times. But there was no fire to stoke, no will to bring out, nothing resembling life in the man before him. "Julius…"
"What's done is done, Natsuki Subaru. I'll see you in Priestella."
"Yeah, in Priestella." And he'd said nothing.
Tea rolled down his parched throat, washing away phlegm and last night's drinking. Nice, warm and tasteless. His tongue hadn't worked right since before this body. Fuck him for stealing it away from a better man. He set his cup back on the saucer, both emblazoned with the golden eagle of House Mathers. His sigil alone, in truth. Printed, carved, and gilded all across the sitting room, every couch, every table, every wall. What a grand joke. And the punchline? Who else?
Roswaal focused on Rem above him, smiling down. She'd put her heart and soul into this drink, as she did everything. All the sin made all the work nothing but a waste. He smiled anyway. "Thank youuuuu."
Rem nodded, hair tousling. It cascaded past her shoulders now, the color of the Waterfall, where he should have thrown himself long ago. Roswaal slumped down, disgusted with himself. By the fucking spirits. All about him, was it? "Youuuuur hair looks lovely today."
She held a few strands between her fingertips, "It is. Thank you."
Roswaal kept drinking in silence. What more was there to say? He rubbed the dust from the table. When did he last have someone important here? Rem was important. When did he last have someone in here who could help him reach his goal? He was getting no closer. Was it time to be done?
"Roswaal," Rem whispered.
"What is iiiiiiit?" he asked. Hanging, a searing flame to the chest, or biting off his tongue? Which one?
"What are you thinking about, Roswaal?" Rem asked.
If there was still a chance to reach Teacher. If he should bother trying. If his death would make the world a better place. If Teacher would make it all better. If Teacher would just tell him to kill himself. If he even wanted to reach Teacher. If he had to reach Teacher. If reaching Teacher would make all their sacrifices worth it. If he'd kill Rem to lose himself in Teacher's eyes one more time. "Nooooothing."
He bit his lip to hold the tears back. He had to move his mind off this, or he'd break down, and Rem would hug him. She'd wrap her small arms around him, she'd whisper sweet things, and she'd make it so much worse. Roswaal's face burned.
"Rem." He couldn't do this for much longer.
"Yes?"
"Why'd you groooow your hair out?"
"Because me and Ram finally spoke," she answered, curling blue strands around her finger. "We realized we'd been bad sisters to each other. I'd spent so much time trying to become sister's replacement. It was time to stop, to be Rem."
Did he dare apologize for letting her village burn? "The long haaaair fits." Best to redirect the conversation; best to hold his tongue. She might forgive him otherwise.
In the time it took them to think up their next words, the door burst open. Garfiel, come up to deliver a message. "Come on, Roswaal." The anger in the boy's voice made him happy. The naivete was gone. He knew Roswaal L. Mathers for the monster he was. "Cap'n wants to see you."
Roswaal remained, "I'll beeee down soon, I would like to finiiiiish this tea. Thank you, Rem. Go along with Garfiel now."
"Of course, Master Roswaal." she bowed, taking the pot and doing as he'd said. It was only a moment before he'd drained the rest.
He left the cup sitting on the table and rose from his seat, stretching to his full height, back cracking. His clothes dangled loose around him. What a supreme work of genetic mastery, this body was. What a life the real Roswaal L. Mathers would have had. What a sham this all was. Yet Rem had still smiled as she'd gone.
A haze came upon him soon after he'd crossed into the corridor. He took one step. Teacher was there. He took another. Rem was pouring his tea. His fist went through the wall. His mana flared. The earth whined. Water boiled in wells the entire city drank from. Clouds came together in an instant, the moment's ago clear sky spit lightning. All the sweat boiled off his body. Fucking disgrace. Roswaal took a deep breath, restoring the wall with a thread of earth, banishing the brewing storm at a thought, forcing the water to placid normalcy, and banishing the steam around him.
Roswaal shambled on, understanding he must decide on a course. No more whining about if he should do this or that. The world wouldn't handle many outbursts of a scale greater than that. He chewed on his lip, passing a grand depiction of Julia Mathers, with a young Karl in her lap. He was going to drink every ounce of alcohol in a five kilometer radius.
"Ros," Subaru met him at the end of the hall, rubbing red skin. "Was that you?"
"It won't haaaaappen again."
Subaru fixed him with a look half-between caution and understanding. It bordered on pity. "I need that conversation mirror of yours. I have to get us some reservations in Priestella, that hotel we spoke of."
"It's time, theeeeen?" Roswaal asked, wiping blood from his knuckles. He had to decide now. What should he do?
"Mhm."
"You understand the impossibiliiiity of killing her, yes?" Unless one knew the trick, which Teacher had never bothered teaching.
"Doesn't mean I won't try."
"You're idioooootic." Better an idiot than a monster.
"I'm determined."
"I'm suuuure that will be enough." He meant it too.
"Don't be sarcastic, I've got Ram. I'll have my victory."
"Of course." But would Roswaal have his? What did his victory even look like? He thought of the true Roswaal L. Mathers again, and had his answer. Every sacrifice must be for something. Then that was his course. No matter what it took. Gospel or not, Teacher would draw breath once more.
