Chapter Restructured & Expanded: 03-05-23.
CHAPTER XVI
Onlíhting Ġecume
(Towards Enlightenment)
Chapter Theme: Taishi — (Phant Solo III, Track 2) Chapter 1, Overture.
"S-Shizuru, I—" Tomoe collapses into Viola's lap distraughtly.
Her entire life feels like a wasteful lie.
How isn't she an Ánhere?
There's no semblance of logic behind it! Shizuru had chosen her on the cusp of death; so why…?
Why?!
"I-I...I—" A choke leaps from her throat, the noise muffled by silk fabric. Without meaning to harm, a pained sigh rips from Viola. Attempting to pull away, but faltering upon the Wælcyrge's touch, Tomoe freezes.
Viola grazes her hands along brokenhearted shoulders. "Tomoe, I am so sorry." She murmurs sadly, arms wrapping around her torso desperately.
Powerful thunder claps overhead, violently waking Viola from her dream. Spooked by the astronomical noise, her heart hammers painfully.
A dream… or rather, a flashback to the previous month.
Staring up at the beamed ceiling, an exhausted sigh escapes her.
It is pouring outside. Angling her head towards the balcony, she peers through the crown-glass windows. Rain is pelting, another rumble reverberating throughout the building.
Prising herself onto an arm, her gaze wanders downwards.
Natsuki lies on the floor beside her in a pile of blankets. Ah...free arm descending, she traces her fingertips through Natsuki's hair. Since waking from her psychic coma, Natsuki has refused to leave her side.
A smile creeps upon her lips, before weariness engulfs her. "...I hope you can one day remember." For both their sakes.
As Viola crumples back onto the mattress, Natsuki stares at the balcony wall. The thunderclaps had also awoken her at some point. Is Viola falling back asleep? Glancing over her shoulder, Natsuki eyes her Wælcyrge.
It seems the case for Viola's face is smeared into her pillow. The arm beneath her hangs off the mattress straight whilst her other rests upon her middle.
It reminds Natsuki of how incredibly peaceful she appears when unconscious. S-she… ah. Roughly swallowing, the Ánhere feels conflicted. This past month, Viola's personality has started solidifying.
Alas, the tension between them hasn't subsided. Instead, it seems even worse?
Heaving onto her other side, she peers up at Viola; her physique briefly visible upon lightning strikes.
"M-mh…"
Heartbeat rising, Natsuki watches as Viola incoherently mumbles into her pillow. What should she… "Viola." She murmurs through the darkness, a flash of lightning again engulfing the elder woman.
As her Wælcyrge's eyes open, and their gaze locks, the apprehension returns. Suddenly, Natsuki realises she hasn't planned what to say at all. "...How are you?"
"Hm…" An exhausted hum releases from Viola. "Tired." Crimson closes once more, brow threading upon another thunderclap. The flooding season is fast approaching. "Natsuki." Arm beneath her still lax, she twitches her fingers towards her Ánhere. "Come." Gaze woozy, Viola distractedly studies Natsuki who remains idle. "Natsuki."
But she could hear perfectly fine from here? Given no other option, Natsuki shakes her head faintly. Prising forth, she grounds her knees before Viola's bed. "What?"
"...Give me your hand." Free limb stretching towards Natsuki, she catches the healing palm swiftly. Within the faint dimness, Viola's gaze moves across the jagged scar. Tracing her thumb along it, scarlet pulls towards viridian. "Does it still hurt?"
"A little… it's hard to grip properly with it. 'Can't feel my thumb anymore."
It is obvious that the nerves have been damaged.
So, Natsuki's swordsmanship is back to square one.
The Wælcyrge sighs, capturing her Ánhere's attention. "I cannot heal deep damage such as th—ah?" Natsuki has torn her hand from her grip.
"Nor should you!" Natsuki snaps, clearly tired of Viola's antics. "Aren't you still healing yourself?" She gestures down to Viola's clothed chest which conceals stitched wounds. "A dragon blew you up. Viola, you should be dead."
But she isn't.
Hands grounding either side of Viola's shoulders, Natsuki dips down close. "If you die, I'll die. Isn't that obv—"—Alas, for Viola's palm encloses her jaw, covering her mouth in the process. Brow straining, Natsuki disgruntledly stares down as thunder reverberates.
"Do not use that tone with me. I cannot help worrying for you, nor shall I stop, Kuga Natsuki."
...Kuga? They continue to stare dead-set at one another within the flashing darkness.
...Why is that name familiar?
V • CM Bæþdæg of Thrimilce
(The 5th Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Bath Day, 900)
"It's not all warden work. You'll be taught to use weapons and manage gear—among other things." Haruka confidently smiles as she turns to Natsuki.
They are positioned within the battlements, beneath the cover of a tower.
Without Natsuki's consent, it has been decided she shall replace Tomoe. After all, she has left with practically no word and Haruka likes this Ánhere more.
That and, well—Viola is out of commission anyhow, so this is a perfect opportunity.
"Seriously." Natsuki sighs. "It's not like I have a choice. What am I doing?"
"Straight to the point, I like you." The Captain gestures for Natsuki to follow her. Stepping into the rain, they are swiftly drenched. Leaning partially over the merlon wall, Haruka points behind the battlements to the ground below.
"See that pole down there?" Within the spiked trench is a measuring pillar. Water gushes down into this section, hugging the wall. "If or when the water reaches halfway, we're in trouble. Last year the flooding season damaged this half of the wall."
Water damage is amazingly visibly; a disgusting array of colours stain it. Even from here, leaning against another merlon, Natsuki could see the damage and creeping moss. "You'll not be alone; it's Hallard's shift tonight."
Wait, she's starting tonight?!
Returning her gaze back to Haruka incredulously, at this moment, the Knight-Commander appears.
Within her arms are two helmets, her own armet and a sallet. "Hey. I will be joining you for the entire night."
Staring at the unfamiliar helmet, Natsuki's gaze ascended to Chie's warily.
"We have gear for you. You'll not be wearing the entire thing though. This much will get you used to it." Chie speaks matter-of-factly, cocking her head for her to follow. "Follow me to the armoury. I'll help you get suited up."
Throughout this entire conversation, unbeknownst to them except the Ánhere, the battlement guards stare. Suspicions are high for the Ánhere. What is the Captain thinking?
Has she not seen or heard what she has done to the servants?
Natsuki, feeling the staring, swept her gaze around. What is this feeling?
"So, I have to wear this because…?" There's hardly any point, surely?
Natsuki feels the weight of her spaulders, gorgot, rerebraces, couters and vambraces bearing down on her. Around a stone—fourteen pound—in burden, it is a heftiness she isn't used to.
Though, it seems manageable as the weight is balanced against her body. Extending an arm, she twists her arm with experimentation, watching as the dark armour moves fluidly.
"Have you already forgotten the dragon which attacked a month previously? Chie eyes her, rolling her tender arm in reflex.
Hm, well. Nevertheless, the dark armour and black gambeson certainly suits the Ánhere.
"We soldiers must be prepared for anything. Be it on duty or not. I've broken up several pub fights without armour." Chie sighs, heading towards the armoury's weapon racks. Taking a sheathed sabre and frog harness, she throws them into Natsuki's direction. "You shall be my lanternbearer tonight. We can't have you jumping ranks yet. I think the guards will cry." She chuckles, watching the Ánhere catch the items messily.
Cry? Natsuki languidly attaches the frog to her belt. What with earlier, it is more likely they'd chase her with pitchforks.
What is wrong with this Palace?
It's like they fear, need and hate her all at once.
Ever since discovering her whimsical power, she has been treated with suspicion.
Those such as the Captain and Knight-Commander don't seem to notice it, either. Why? "What does a lanternbearer do? Other than waving a lantern around all night, that is."
"They light the battlement sconces, relay messages between squads and check the perimeter walls." Returning to Natsuki's side, Chie throws her an amused look. "Tie your hair back, you don't want it getting caught amidst battle."
Beside them is a table with the armet and sallet helms. Chie only stares at her expectantly before Natsuki reluctantly searches for something to tie it with.
"That Captain never ties her back."
"Do as we say, not as we do."
Giving Natsuki the once-over, Chie extends an arm towards her with an index finger pointing outwards. A viridian ribbon loosely hangs from her digit, and it is quickly taken.
The Knight-Commander seems resourceful, at least. Natsuki gathers her hair together, knotting the ribbon around it tightly. Once comfortable, she returns her attention to Chie—Alas, the sallet helmet pops atop her head, startling her.
"It'll take you some time to get used to wearing that, so wear it frequently." All that is visible of the Ánhere's face is her jaw and eyes. "The visor can be lifted, but I advise you to keep it down."
It is fruitless, for Natsuki has lifted it already.
"I can barely see anything in this thing!"
"Better to have partial vision than an arrow in your eye socket." Chie rolls her eyes, shoving Natsuki's visor back down. "Privy—"—Toilet—"—duty is given to disobedient guards." Equipping her own armet helmet, she leads them out the armoury. "Now concentrate, it's going to be a long night." She says, her voice now muffled.
What has Natsuki gotten herself into this time?
She can only ask herself this as they climb the battlement steps.
The darkness is subsided by a brazier, its flames flickering within the heavy rain. Yonside is a table which brandishes lanterns, jarred wicks and oil.
"Bring a lantern, a handful of wicks and an oil can." Chie instructs the Ánhere. "I already filled this lantern here." She picks up a specific one, handing it over. "It should last for an hour or two. I will now escort you across the battlements."
Hours later, she is sopping wet and freezing.
Mildly shaking, Natsuki patrols the perimeter of the outer wall. Her lantern hardly even lights her surroundings within this onslaught of rain. Squinting her eyes, she raises her lantern fruitlessly. Nay, nor could her footfall remain confident.
Setting her boot within the muddy slope, she nearly slips over. Startled, she halts before regaining her footing.
Curse that Knight-Commander.
Peering skywards, droplets of rain splat against her sallet. The noise reverberates loudly within the helm, making her muse: If an enemy attacked, will she hear them? Nevermind see it? Sighing, she sweeps her gaze towards the forest before her.
It is still charred from the dragon a month ago.
In the distance, an eerie darkness greets her. The sensation looms over her psyche, almost as though she could feel someone watching her. Something's within that forest. But what is it? Natsuki stares back into the shadow, until she hears a muffled voice.
"Ánhere! What's the water damage like down there?"
Haruka is stretched over a merlon, watching her expectantly.
"I can't see a thing!" Natsuki yells. "The lantern's crap!"
"What? Then get in there!"
But there's spikes in these ditches?!
Natsuki stares up at the Captain astoundedly.
Lowering the lantern downwards, she observes water gushing into the ditch. Here, spikes could barely be seen protruding the surface. As Natsuki cautiously dips her boot into grimy water, she has a sudden thought.
Don't defensive locations usually have moats? Actually, it makes no sense they are beside the forest either. Didn't she recently think it's obscene, as well?
The feeling from this forest as well… she feels an ambush will be opportune.
Stalling, the Ánhere stares into the darkness once more.
What's with her? From the battlements, Haruka props open her visor. Wafting her fingers, she summons the Knight-Commander over.
Sludging through the murky water, Natsuki gingerly touches along the wall. Some of the blocks feel jagged and large portions feel missing. In some areas, it seems slimy and mossy. There is definitely damage. "Why the hell are these idiots making me do this in the pitch dark…" She grumbles to herself, peering up the wall.
The Captain is no longer there.
Has she already gotten bored?
Making an annoyed noise, she prises herself through dangerous stakes and out the ditch. Sodden, she wraps her free arm around herself.
Natsuki supposes she better head towards the rear portcullis.
Before this can happen, she spots something out of the corner of her eye. Freezing, her head slowly turns back towards the forest. In the distance behind a multitude of trees, she takes witness to a glow. 'Twas one she recognises even through her thin vision; the dazzling aura approaching slothfully.
"Durandal?" She whispers, being drawn towards the glow like a moth to flames.
Duty forgotten, she slips past the treeline and beneath the black canopy. Consumed by darkness, only her dim lantern guides her towards the area.
Emerging within a clearing, Durandal stands at its far end. Closer she engages, until wolves slowly descend from the underbrush. Where had—
—Suddenly, Natsuki finds herself back in the ditch.
W-what?
Confused, Natsuki warily spins around searching for Durandal.
What?!
Vaulting herself out the water once again, her gaze haphazardly darts across the eerie forest. There is no sign of Durandal and at that moment, her lantern dies. Engulfed within gloom, she feels a sense of dread pierce her mind.
Has it happened again? Did time pause, or has that been an illusion?
"Well? Are you going to check the wall?! Wait, where is she?"
The Captain's yell makes her jump. Blindly reaching for the oil can, she painstakingly opens the lantern's side cap.
After much struggle, a dull flame flickers behind glass once more. Sighing a breath of relief, she reluctantly returns to the task at hand.
Scene Theme: Taishi — (The Emergence of an Oracle) Main Theme.
At sunrise, Natsuki staggers inside the quarters, completely soaked and miserable.
That had been literal hell.
Utterly exhausted, she doesn't even notice Viola at first.
Miraculously she is seated at the table, unaided. Staring through her Wælcyrge, it takes her a moment to realise she is there. "...Didn't Helene tell you to rest?" She immediately points out.
"I am in pain, not bedridden, Natsuki." Viola cracks a smile, a quill within her grip, having been penning a letter. "You look fatigued." Signalling her Ánhere closer, she stares contently at her state of attire.
Natsuki—albeit soaked—looks attractive.
Who could have expected that dark armour and a black gambeson suit her so well? "...Hm." She watches as droplets slide from the sallet helmet before splashing against floorboards. If only she… 'What? I what?'
"I-I'll get changed." Natsuki sheepishly clutches the door handle to her room. Stalling, a sudden chill runs down her spine. 'H-huh?'
Staring after Natsuki's armoured body with confusion, Viola returns her quill to its inkwell. It is clear that Natsuki suddenly feels as uneasy as herself. A mild pain wells within her chest, making her gaze sweep across the quarters. "What… is that?" She whispers.
A monumental force makes both women stagger downwards. "W-what is this?!" Natsuki cries, knees and hands slamming to the floor.
A glorifying silver light engulfs the quarters, momentarily blinding them. "U-ugh?!"
"Wilcuman Wælcyrge." The presence—a blinding silver figure—speaks. It approaches Viola first, touching her shoulder. "Ic helpan þu. Cume mé, on fundiaþ Wælheall!"
Natsuki, who hadn't understood a single word, distraughtly stares after the ethereal being. W-what's Viola doing?! Her Wælcyrge prises herself up from the table, as though the sheer atmosphere is nothing.
H-how? This figure then floats towards her. Warily she stares up at it, its arms extending towards her. N-no…!
Panicking, Natsuki with pure determination, throws herself backwards. Landing onto her rear, she shuffles herself backwards.
"Þes Ic forbēode. Ġeweald thyself!" Closer the figure comes, its hand phasing inside of Natsuki's chest. A cold chill swarms Natsuki, plunging her into fixation. "Does thouself understand now?"
Huh? As Natsuki stares, clearly stunned, Viola stands beside this ethereal being. "Natsuki, it is fine. This is Miyú."
Wait, that's Miyú?!
"She's going to take us to Wæ—"
"—W-wait! Hold on a second, what do you mean take us to Wælheall?!" Her gaze returns to the palm still within her chest. Slothfully, Miyú removes it, standing to her full height—albeit in spiritual form.
"Thou must make haste." Miyú warns, touching both their shoulders. Within an instant, they are teleported an incalculable distance. Thousands of feet below them, is a monumental forest. "The great Yatagarasu—" She declares, an immense flock of crows pierce the forest's canopy. "—hath been āwōcon by unknown energies. Thyselves must complete the Key Shrine Ceremony! Else Yatagarasu shalt wrath us all!"
"But… how?"Viola's gaze moves across the landscape. Where is this? Like her previous "visit", mist surrounded the perimeter.
It is clearly Wælheall, though where, she could not be sure.
At this moment, a towering, three-legged crow breaks free from the canopy. She watches in awe as purple fog envelopes the screaming corvid. What's… happening?
"The Sunne Crow, Yatagarasu 'twas soul-maddened betwixt the roots of Grimm'eoh in which theirself divulged. Malady compasses hoo, thenceforth malison art nigh."
Yatagarasu's gigantic wings beat within the horizon, jettisoning air currents through the forest. Trees are pushed to and fro by the incredible power, Miyú continuing: "Far unto the north, thy shalt obtain the Key Shrines. Endure the Great Warg Durandal whom's guidance thou shalt find. Yonder thine's destiny awaits!"
The ethereal Miyú points northwards beyond the Yatagarasu. "...The Great Kazahana Forest."
Their unnatural surroundings return to normal, causing them to remain still for a time. Natsuki, who slothfully realises they are back in the quarters, collapses to her knees.
T-that… What had that been? Hands slamming against the floorboards, her lips quivered. Is that the place Viola has spoken about?
"Natsuki?"
"I—" She silences, her gaze pulling towards her Arcewælcyrge who kneels beside her.
What's going on?
XIX • CM Bæþdæg of Thrimilce
(The 19th Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Bath Day, 900)
A Fortnight Later
"Again Arcewælcyrge, are you sure you're up for this?" Mahya stands before Viola beside the Palace stables.
It has been incredibly short notice, but this emergency couldn't be helped.
"Should I have Woods accompany you in ca—"
"—No, it is too dangerous." Viola immediately brushes the concern away.
Within two weeks, the Palace has managed to piece together an expedition for the upcoming journey. The Great Kazahana Forest is a few days' trek from here. As such, a portion of the Knights will be joining them. "Miyú revealed herself to Natsuki—such things are concerning, as I am sure you understand."
Natsuki is not yet a Wælcyrge, but seems to be rocketing towards this fate faster than imaginable.
"We have known that Yatagarasu has been dormant for centuries. If it is like Miyú stated, he is far more dangerous than Kagutsuchi."
Natsuki meanwhile, sits at the end of one of the travelling waggons. Peering down at her feet which hang, she kicks her legs mildly. Since earlier—whatever that has even been—everything has been a blur.
Within minutes Viola had recollected herself and had reported to Palace officials. In no time at all, Natsuki had found herself surrounded by Knights and servants alike.
The two groups swiftly organised this expedition and supplied it.
All because Viola has commanded it.
Truly, how much power does she have? Gaze pulling from her feet, they push towards the woman some yards away. She is still speaking with Mahya; likely finalising details.
"Ánhere, this waggon will be used for storage. I'm sorry, but you need to move."
Natsuki looks behind her shoulder, recognising the blonde Knight as Gallagher. Wordlessly hopping from the vehicle, she slowly approaches Viola. It seems she is finishing her conversation now.
"Shiro has prepared the maps for you." Mahya hands over sealed scrolls to the Wælcyrge. "That region of the forest is still heavily uncharted. Are you sure you know the way?"
"We are to be guided."
"You still haven't explained that fully." Mahya scrutinises Viola, studying her. After a moment, she sighs, giving up.
There is only one person more headstrong and stubborn than Her Majesty. Said person stands before her in all her headstrong glory. "Nevertheless, return the carrier pigeon back once you've arrived. We will send it back with what little information we have translated."
Shiro is like a workhorse when it comes to that book.
Unfortunately, no new knowledge has sprung up. All except that… Yatagarasu, the God of Crows, Dreams and Insanity has been inactive for centuries.
How is that even possible?
Is he one of the Keys in which Sanada manipulated, mayhaps?
"I will." Viola bows her head, twisting around on her heel. Catching sight upon Natsuki, she heads towards her Ánhere, meeting her half way. "We should be leaving soon. It seems that all preparations are nearly dealt with." Her gaze travels the stable yard, looking between the waggons, horses and Knights.
The upcoming days will be rough indeed.
"Have you steeled yourself, Natsuki?"
Natsuki shrugs. "I don't get it. You're acting like you have no injuries at all."
"Hm." The Arcewælcyrge smiles faintly, though it did not reach her eyes. "A Wælcyrge, much less a warrior, does not express weakness amongst potential adversaries."
Is she implying the Knights or Natsuki are her enemy?
"As a leader, to show such signs will be your death. By showing your steel, it strengthens your allies and keeps your enemies further away. Remember this, for you have already experienced the cold eyes this Palace offers."
Later, they are already a few hours into the trip to the Great Kazahana Forest.
Their only disruptions have been the occasional fallen tree or impassable pathway.
The horses surprise Natsuki. Even within the quarters, she will hear the occasional whinnying from them. They always seem so desperate to leave their stables, but here? It is another story. They are as calm as a serene lake—undisturbed by even water ripples. Not even the uneven terrain unsettles these heavy burden animals.
Is it due to their training?
Either way, Natsuki gradually loses interest, her gaze falling back inside her waggon.
Viola sits beside her, head bowing with her eyes closed.
For a while now, her Wælcyrge has been on the cusp of slumber.
A tired sigh of Natsuki's own releases from her. Tilting her head skywards, she eyes the tough white material shielding them from the elements.
Viola still hasn't really explained anything to her. All she understands is that they are heading for a grand forest.
Residing within its depths is that monumental three-legged crow they had witnessed. Though, that had been within that place Viola had briefly ended up, hadn't it?
Wælheall.
Durandal is also supposed to guide them, but she hasn't seen a hint of him yet. Except… last fortnight, when she was lured to him. Or, had that simply been a hallucination?
She still doesn't know and worries it means something.
"Arcewælcyrge, the—ah, she's asleep." A mounted Knight positions her horse to walk beside the waggon's window beside Natsuki. "Ánhere, the path ahead is breaking up along the cliff adjacent to the lake below us. The descent downwards will be bumpy."
Watching the Knight go to warn the waggon in front, Natsuki sighs again. She peers downwards to her feet, gazing upon her dark sallet.
This is incredibly boring.
"Viola." She nudges into the woman's side momentarily, receiving an expectant mumble. "Will you tell me about Yatagarasu?"
"...I know very little either." Viola rolls her shoulders gently, waking herself up slowly. Blinking away her exhaustion, her head angles towards the Ánhere. "Yatagarasu has not been referenced within the Wælcyrge Cranic often." When it was, the information was vague indeed. "Like Kagutsuchi, it can fly and is far too large to follow us into tight places."
Logically, caves with narrow entrances will be their salvation. But… What chance is there to find such a landmark?
"Natsuki."
"What?"
Studying her partially armoured Ánhere, Viola smiles tired. This put Natsuki on edge immediately, recognising that smile. But, what did it mean? "Nearby are the Key Shrines."
"How do you know that?"
"I...do not quite understand myself." But it has happened before when they have looked at the Wælcyrge Cranic.
Strings of information will just slot together within her mind.
"I cannot control when this happens. I simply… know." Viola tries explaining, her gaze straying to the front of the waggon. Piles of boxes and barrels block her view of the driver and horses. "The Key Shrines each have entrances deep underground. It is an icy tomb of undeath and flooding."
Though, the harder she thinks, the hazier the information becomes. Is Miyú truly responsible for this? Or is it a greater force? 'Twas it in fact the ash tree? ...The Terror Horse. Trusting such an entity is a death sentence.
A tomb? Undeath? "Are there Slaves in there?" Did they even have the supplies to keep warm in frosty conditions?
"I have no idea." Viola's gaze wanders the waggon. At least they are alone here to discuss privately. "Perhaps long ago the Keys were worshipped." After all, Wælcyrgan are described as many things. "Distant Slaves are entombed alive with their rulers. Perhaps the same happened here once, long ago."
Oh, well.
Viola adjusts herself on the bench. Between her feet lies her armour. She wonders whether she will soon require this again.
Suddenly, the waggon jolts, one of its wheels having jammed into and over the path's debris. The rear wheel soon behaves similarly, causing both women to unconsciously grab for the window. Viola's hand lands atop Natsuki's, her body looming above Natsuki's uncomfortably.
They remain in this position for a moment,
Viola's gaze faintly widening, before realising her position, quickly says: "I am sorry." She straightens out, Natsuki pulling herself upwards also. Removing her hand from Natsuki's, her gaze turns to the window.
Outside, a lake presents itself several hundred feet below. Within the distance, three great waterfalls are located. On the cliff's other end, these rivers connect to the faraway sea.
Natsuki also looks outside the window. "Oh, wow." She mumbles, clearly in awe. Where are they now? Trees surrounded the lake's embankment, following the terrain upwards.
This area almost looks like a reverse pyramid. It looks far too abnormal. Is nature truly responsible for this? "Where are we?"
"I… have never seen this. I do not know."
Unbeknownst to them, this is only the introduction to their twisted journey.
XX • CM Sunnandæg of Thrimilce
(The 20th Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Sun's Day, 900)
Night befalls the large camp as Natsuki slumps down before the fire.
They have been travelling the entire night. By the time they had bypassed the lake, the forest had engulfed them.
The day consisted of leaving the waggon to heave it from ditches, holes and other obstacles. Worse, the Great Kazahana Forest itself seems to be their worst adversary. Upon every turn, roots, fallen trees and underbrush have blocked their route.
Natsuki dreads how little progress they have made towards the Key Shrines.
"Your soup." Viola approaches her with two steaming bowls. Sitting herself beside her on another stool, she hands it over.
"Ah, thanks." Natsuki carefully holds the bowl, staring into the contents. There is bread, meat broth and some spare vegetables floating around. A two-pronged fork is propped inside the meal which she takes. "Who made this?"
"The Knight-Commander, I believe."
Chie Hallard? Natsuki looks towards the elder in surprise. "She doesn't seem the type to cook." Nevertheless, Natsuki dips her fork into the soup, swirling the contents about.
It appears fine enough.
Viola watches as she takes a hesitant bite of meat, the Ánhere chewing thoughtfully. Actually, it's better than decent.
"...I don't like this place." Natsuki says after a while, surveying the surrounding forest as they ate. This environment isn't natural; the trees are tall, black and twisting. An eerie fog also encompasses the trunks, making it impossible to see deeper inside. If an evil presence is stalking them and they don't realise, Natsuki wouldn't be shocked whatsoever. "It feels wrong here—strange."
"I agree." Viola is still watching Natsuki. She wonders what her Ánhere is thinking exactly. Gaze drawing skywards, she studies the night sky. It seems the horizon is calming down now as well.
The azure from the Phase Shift is hardly noticeable now. "Though, I cannot sense anything amiss." In fact, she hasn't for the entire trip. Indeed, their setting is an odd one.
They have travelled past and through marvels that haven't been seen by human eyes for decades. Perhaps even centuries.
She looks upon the Moon, eyes tracing craters of yore. "Nor has Durandal made his presence known. What could that mean?" Crimsons rake viridian, the two women locking eyes.
"I don't… know." Natsuki mumbles, gaze falling to her bowl. Picking out another chunk of meat, she brings it eyelevel. "Last I saw him was by the battlements, like I said earlier." Should she be concerned that Durandal hasn't shown up yet? Miyú said he will be guiding them. What if he doesn't and they couldn't find the shrines nor the crow?
Then what?
Ugh, stop thinking.
Popping the meat into her mouth, she stares at nothing in particular as she resumes eating.
It's nothing she can control, so she shouldn't worry about it. Though, that is easier said than done.
After eating and the bowls are set away, Viola pulls her aside. "I will retrain you in the basics of the sabre. Lefthanded of course, as your grip has dulled within your right hand."
Though conflicted, Natsuki hasn't a choice, for Viola's hand seizes hers, dragging them towards the trees.
They head for somewhere private—within the trees. "This should do."
"I never have a say with you, do I?" Natsuki mutters gruffly, lowering her sallet's visor—until it creaks loudly. Wincing, she forces the visor down completely, gaze obscured terribly. Natsuki guesses she may as well take Hallard's word for it. She will not get used to this armour if she doesn't use it.
"You look attractive in armour, Natsuki."
The words throw Natsuki so off guard she didn't notice Viola seize the opportunity. Within seconds, the Wælcyrge's foot hooks the back of hers, throwing her onto the floor. Winded and confused, it takes Natsuki another moment to realise a blade's tip is inches from her throat. "A-ah?" Hands grounding behind her, she stares up in awe at Viola, until a blush slowly hits her cheeks. "W-what is that for?!"
"To prove to you that any distraction will cost you your life." A smile creeps upon Viola's lips, raising her blade so it forces Natsuki's head upwards. "Are you going to do anything about this?" She gestures to the action she has just performed. "Teach me a lesson, Ánhere."
Scrambling to her feet, Natsuki clumsily draws her own blade within her left hand. Upon this motion, Viola does so as well. Wait, she ambidex—without warning, Viola encircles her sabre overhead before swiping it across Natsuki's.
"Concentrate. Distractions will get you killed." A struggle commences via Natsuki's side; unable to overpower Viola's strength. Or, is it even that? Maybe it's just a secure hold? "Well?"
"Don't screw with me!" Natsuki retorts, their blades straining sideways until Natsuki's scrapes off like nails on a chalkboard. She doesn't think she will ever get used to the feeling. It makes her skin crawl. Visibly wincing, she barely parries the next blow.
Not twice did this repeat, nor thrice. Again and again the Arcewælcyrge takes the offensive, strikes relentless and true. She corners Natsuki before a tree, her sabre cutting into bark. Barely does Natsuki duck, dodging the blade by inches.
Viola's serious.
"Does it seem I am?" Viola pauses by the slashed tree momentarily, freezing in position as she eyes Natsuki. "Like I, your adversary will not give you a chance." Twisting on her boot, Viola renews her path towards her Ánhere. "Learn to conquer your fears! Do not allow the unknown to become your obstacle!"
With this, Viola's right palm tugs at her Anchor's chain, prising it from beneath her clothing. "Adapt or die!" An emerald light jettisons from the crystal, alarming her Ánhere who stumbles backwards.
What the hell is she doing?! "V-Viola?!" Is she trying to kill her?! Stance readying, Natsuki leaps aside as a wave of sizzling green engulfs another tree behind her. Horrified, she watches as within seconds, the bark is eroded down to the trunk's innermost workings.
This is the power which Viola had used to defeat Kagutsuchi.
Something deep inside of Natsuki clicked.
There's only one way she can interrupt this. She needs to return the favour of distracting Viola.
Charging headfirst towards Viola, she snatches this brief opportunity. Spurred on by the confusion she witnesses inside the Arcewælcyrge's eyes, she strikes.
Natsuki's blade aims for her Anchor floating from her neck. Faltering the manoeuvre, Viola is instead startled when Natsuki's free palm snatches it. "N-no! D—" The chain is tugged until it snaps, the viridian hue dispersing in that minute moment.
She had expected her Anchor to backfire upon Natsuki like it would have Tomoe. Yet, Natsuki stands before her, sabre pointing towards her throat this time.
"You were saying?" Natsuki grins.
Another wrestle begins, Natsuki's arm is grappled into a lock. Shocked, the Ánhere's sabre is launched from her hold in the act. Arm seized behind herself, Viola's front presses against her. "... You are saying?"
Natsuki's heart hammers within her chest, unable to stop the Wælcyrge who's hand envelops hers. The Anchor's glow weakens until it dies completely.
Hours later, Natsuki's back hits soft grass.
This training has been brutal. She hadn't expected Viola to use the Anchor as a weapon on her. Is she crazy? Staring at the starry night, a sudden question emerges: "Have Wælcyrgan always been with the Palace?"
"Not always, no. I do not know when it happened." Viola says, sitting beside her. "We wandered this land alone, neutralising threats when we deemed it fit… Eventually, the Queen's ancestors incorporated us into the Palace's ranks."
When are they treated to such freedoms?
Mayhaps, they are merely tools to be wielded by naive leaders.
XXII • CM Wigesdæg of Thrimilce
(The 22nd Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Warrior's Day, 900)
Once again, their journey has been slow and uneventful.
Apart from minor obstacles, rest breaks and abnormal scenery, their travelling hasn't waned.
But, it's so cold.
Natsuki miserably hugs her torso within the waggon, cursing their surroundings tenfold. Though it has been stated the Key Shrines are frigid, she somehow hadn't expected this.
Heaving a sigh, condensation forms before her mouth. "I don't get it. How aren't you cold?" She accuses Viola, the Wælcyrge sitting in front of her this time.
Isn't she supposed to be the one who can cast ice?
Shivering, she stares at the elder who merely returns the look calmly.
"Are you cold on lookout as well?"
"It is freezing there too!" A moment later, Natsuki realises her question has been dodged. Well, whatever.
Reaching downwards, she grasps a rough blanket by the tied down crates and barrels. Tugging it over, she then loosely covers herself with it.
Did that help?
She hadn't a clue.
Either way, they come to an abrupt halt, causing them to exchange looks in question.
Viola is the first to respond, turning on the bench to look out her window. They have just arrived at a circular expanse that is walled off by ruins. Snow blankets this swathe and icicles litter old buildings. To and fro, the Knights hurry across this area, inspecting the ruins.
The Key Shrines are far more grand than she could have anticipated. "It appears we have arrived."
'Finally.' Natsuki sinks backwards against the waggon's wall. Though, isn't it odd that Durandal is yet to guide them? They are already here.
Pulling the blanket off of her which hasn't even warmed up, she too looks outside. Within the distance, Natsuki can see a far off mountain range.
"That's the old Altay border." A Knight reins in her horse beside the waggon. Lifting her visor, Natsuki immediately recognises her—Captain Gallagher, second in command. "It takes weeks to cut through the Golden Mountains, so we should be safe from external threats."
"There are reports they are undergoing a civil war." Viola is suddenly behind Natsuki, speaking with Sarah. This mildly startles her Ánhere who glances at her oddly. "Correct?" Viola returned the look, lips twitching.
Wait. Natsuki's face scrunches as they continue speaking; isn't Florence and Remus having a civil war too? Is this entire continent struggling with constant unrest or something?
"For a few months now." Sarah nods, signalling over a group of mounted Knights. "Tell the supply waggons to set up in the ruins. You—" She points at one at random. "—will come with me. We're scouting out the shrine locations." Kicking her horse back into action, she departs for the ruins.
"I didn't know Knights could be so straightforward." Natsuki mutters, watching them leave. Compared to Hallard anyway. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have Gallagher as the Knight-Commander?"
"She is quite the star child." Viola says, turning her back on Natsuki and reaching for her piled armour. "That girl—Nina, I think her name is—reminds me a lot of her."
What's that supposed to mean? Natsuki eyes the elder who presses her cuirass breastplate to her front. "Help me buckle this up, please."
Gingerly Natsuki did as told, picking up the cuirass' backpiece. On each plate there are rivets bolting harnesses to it. Looks like she needs to buckle the breastplate and backpiece together at the shoulders. "Is it impossible to get dressed alone?"
"It is possible, but painstaking. Nor are some flexible enough to dress themselves." Not to mention, armour is increasing in complexity.
Thankfully there is a difference between sports, ceremonial and warfare armours.
Once both pieces are securely latched, Viola twists her torso experimentally. The cuirass isn't loose and is attached appropriately. "Thank you, I can deal with the rest."
Sometime later, once the armour was dealt with, Natsuki hops out of the waggon. Her boots uncomfortably sink into the snow, causing her to pause. This feeling is familiar, though in this life she has never experienced such chilled softness. "Did it ever snow in… huh…"
"Japan?"
"Yeah, that place." Even if Viola tells her a thousand times, she will never remember it. She has even mentioned such strange things, like Zipang reminding her of their old home.
Isn't that a country in name only due to war from centuries ago? It is also locked to foreigners, isn't it? How did Viola know anything about it? Much less that Altay is apparently having a civil war? "How do you know about Altay?"
"Travelling merchants. You will be surprised by how fast word spreads with their help." When used correctly, it is incredibly useful for manipulating morale.
Politically, their relationship with the Altay Empire is "neutral". Though that certainly doesn't seem to corral their morality, as their espionage attempts have been noticed.
"Let us get organised with the others."
Some time later, Natsuki is huddling beside a campfire that is partially protected by a ruined wall. She has brought the rough blanket with her, but try as she might, it isn't helping.
At least she isn't being jolted all over the place by the waggon? Natsuki supposes there is that, but still. A drawn out sigh escapes her, making her wonder for the ten-billionth time when Viola's returning.
For an hour or so, Viola has been out with the Knights scouting. As such, she is the only occupier of this campfire. It is nice—at least, that's until her gaze sweeps from the embers to her visitor.
"You sure took your sweet time." She accuses the wolf sitting opposite the fire. "Miyú says you are going to guide us here."
The great wolf remains mute, his ears twitching as a noise is heard from nearby. As though he predicted it, Viola appears around the corner.
"Natsuki?" She could have sworn she heard Natsuki talking a moment ago. There is no one here, though Natsuki is looking into the distance oddly. "Natsuki?" She repeats.
"Huh." Oh. The Ánhere transfers her focus upon Viola who continues to watch her. "Durandal was here a moment ago, but he disappeared." She grumbles, starting to feel miffed. What is he playing at?
"Just now?" Receiving a nod, Viola sits herself down on the stool beside Natsuki's. "...What could this mean?" Bending forward, she gazes into the campfire's flames.
Should they be concerned that he has only just appeared—at the Key Shrines no less? It suggests that Miyú and the Keys aren't strictly connected. But, the Anchors are and helps to link them together to Grimmsyll. "...Could it be that an Anchor is required to subdue him?" She murmurs aloud, pondering to herself. "Kiyohime does not behave erratically like this."
"Maybe." Natsuki reaches for a stick and starts poking the fire. The one time she has witnessed Kiyohime, she has been remarkably obedient. Durandal on the other hand, is a lone wolf—metaphorically and literally. He is a free spirit, perhaps similarly to herself, in ways.
Though…
She rams the stick into the fiery embers, watching the wood scorch. Or maybe not. She is joined to Viola and there is no escaping that fate. Is it possible that Durandal is her parallel self? Hm, she's thinking too hard.
"Either way, we have discovered the Durandal Shrine. We shall head inside at sunrise." Unbeknownst to either of them, Durandal spins leisurely around Viola, inspecting her closely. With a single, drawn out sniff, he fades from existence once more.
Chapter Theme: Taishi — (From 2 Planets) Slumber (Introduction).
"He's heading this way." Natsuki points out Durandal's location to those who can't see him.
As such, only herself and Viola can see him, albeit hazily on Viola's part.
Fortunately, he is guiding them towards his own shrine which has partially collapsed. The steps heading down are incredibly worn and crumbling. Along the walls, icicles hang and snow is crammed inside crevices. It is the definition of an icy tomb, just as Viola described.
If Slaves indeed dwell in its passageways, she will not be surprised.
"As we thought, then." Sarah is beside her, visor raised. "Those with bows carry the lanterns!" She swiftly orders the Knights behind them.
"Don't leave all the fun for yourself." Chie appears, patting the blonde's shoulder teasingly. "The rest of you, with me!"
Natsuki also has a lantern and is fumbling around with the wicks and oil. Shoving the latter two inside her pockets, she starts descending the steps. That's until a hand stopped her; it is Viola's.
"Remember what I have taught you and how to respond to your Key." Viola says, her eyes studying the Ánhere as the Knights climbed downwards. "Stay behind me if danger shows itself."
As a guttural howl reverberates from the pits of darkness, the entire group freezes.
Then, Natsuki senses it before it comes. A powerful gust of wind kills their lanterns—at least a Godsend, for it is sunrise. However, their misfortunes rose higher; another flurry knocking many Knights over on the steps—Viola included.
Meanwhile, Natsuki finds herself at the mouth of the shrine below. Blindly she scrambles for her lantern which lies beside her, its flame flickering weakly.
Before she can react, another squall—brittle and cold—hurls past her. Before her very eyes, Natsuki witnesses as a wall of ice encases the entrance. It's blocking her from the outside world, even silencing the confused yells of Knights. I-is she trapped here?
"Natsuki?!" Viola calls through the ice on her end, hitting her fist firmly against the wall. As expected, it doesn't do a thing.
Through mist and splintered glaze she watches Natsuki slowly wander deeper inside the shrine. Where is she going?! Didn't she just tell her to stay by her side? Is this Durandal's doing?
"Where are the icepicks?!" The Knight-Commander shouts above the panicking Knights.
Meanwhile behind the ice, Natsuki is corralled deeper into the unknown by Durandal.
She senses that she is drawing closer to something. But, she has already lost sight of the great wolf.
"Where did you go?" Natsuki's voice echoes through the chilled chambers, forming a sense of dread around her. Or… is he here at all?
Footfalls halting, Natsuki stills within a dimly lit passageway. Barely, she can see what appears to be enlarged weep holes. They decorate the walls which are quickly enclosing, making claustrophobia swell inside of her.
Now tepid, left with only a lantern and her wits, Natsuki is forced to follow.
The steps are slippy; a clear sheen of frost layering ancient stone.
As she descends further underground, it becomes far more unnatural. There are stalagmites towering before her, their columns twisting abnormally from the floor. They litter this dank tunnel system, creating terrifying shadows with the aid of her lantern.
Yet, her surroundings do not scare her, for Natsuki stares at something else of monstrous malformation: A rift calls out to her very heart and soul.
Durandal sits before the kaleidoscopic tear, his crimson eyes lustred with that of enigma. He wishes for her to enter this portal.
But why?
Natsuki searches the Key's gaze but no signs of semblance are discovered. Rather, a mental guide lugs her towards this breach in reality. Perhaps in a way, it's similar to her? An entity who does not belong here yet exists anyway. A miscalculation by greater forces, mayhaps.
Regardless, Natsuki lumbers towards the rift until she hesitantly brushes her fingers through it.
The sensation is alien; almost like water without wetness. Abruptly, below her feet a pitch-black contour materialises. Then, a sharp tug throws her inside, haywiring her already frazzled mindset.
In her place is a towering wall of colourlessness; it is akin to a torn painting, leaving only blackness in its wake. Not a sound is produced by this enigma, nor is Durandal present.
. . .
. .
.
Where is she?
Who is she?
Who's Kuga?
Or Kruger?
Is this limbo?
Does Durandal ploy?
What's Grimmsyll?
Does she know anything at all?
Maybe she knows nothing?
Does her existence even mean anything?
...Anyone?
A wave of existential calamity smashes into her, causing Natsuki's legs to buckle.
Hands slamming against abyssal dead space, Natsuki stares into blackness. For a long moment, she remains frozen like this, unable to fathom her situation.
It is as though Natsuki floats within a blind vacuum; suspended by no gravity.
Is she dreaming?
No.
She knows this place.
But from where?
From the dark recesses of her mind? Here she knows there is something she needs to find. What is it? Her vision returns in a radius by a few feet. As if by destiny, something appears between her hands—a thing impossible.
Durandal's Anchor; the Heart of Transmission. Natsuki's fingers dig into the soil, staring at the smashed crystal attached to a chain.
How has it gotten here? Where is she?!
"P-please! Help us!"
Natsuki stares at the Anchor as it gleams a brilliant crimson. Who or what is that…?
Is it the same voice that cried out before?
As quickly as the plea resounds within Natsuki's mind, it disappears. Feeling conflicted, she grasps the Anchor; dirt and mud mixing within her palm. Gaze lifting, she is blindsided as her surroundings are clear as daylight.
'Where is this?!'
'What is happening?!'
A raging blaze tears across an alien world of concrete, glass and greenery. The horizon is blanketed within a scarlet haze; opposite to that of her azure world. Smokey embers billow within the night sky, sparking turmoil as the fire travels along the breeze.
A moment later, absolute confusion envelops Natsuki as her scenery changes.
Instead, she is now before a monumental organ. Just as she is about to stretch a hand towards it, her reality fades once more, slamming her betwixt Grimmsyll's ancient roots.
She knows where this was, but h—before her is Suihōhime's Heart. Crystalline tendrils suspend it high inside the ash's core. Inside, is something impossible. Three figures reside within.
"Nats—"
The internal call is interrupted by someone who doesn't belong here—or rather, back at the fire.
Still on her hands and knees, the blaze surrounds her once more. Juliette Nao Zhang tears in front of her,
"What the hell are you doing here?" Nao wears the most ridiculous set of clothes Natsuki has ever seen. What even is that? Unknown to her, this is called a school sailor uniform. Though, at least Nao wears an eyepatch like usual—albeit this one looking strange.
The last time she saw Nao had been inside the servants' wing. That feels like aeons ago.
"Me? What are you doing here?!" Natsuki counters, lifting her visor to look at her better.
"Shut up and just get up." Nao scowls, snatching Natsuki's wrist and dragging her upwards.
Before Natsuki could get another word in, the oddly dressed redhead drags her past the blaze. How can she be unfazed by this chaos? Alas, the multitude of questions Natsuki asks are ignored. Rather, minutes pass them and before Natsuki knows it, they are underground.
"Tokiha?!" Nao yells through the tunnel system.
How many times must she ask—"I already told you, get me back!" Natsuki doesn't have time for this! She is mindful of her freshly discovered Anchor, gingerly placing it around her neck.
"I'd help you—" They turn a corner. "—but since I don't know how to?" She shrugs. "Jokes on you, Kuga. Now, how about you get me—"
"—My name isn't Kuga!" But, Viola has called her this before. The fact remains within the corner of her mind which then blanks hard. There are two new arrivals. A vermillion redhead is dressed in pure black and—Viola.
What's going on?!
Viola is clearly as surprised to see her. They stare at one another, until Nao intrudes her thoughts.
"Whatever you say." Nao hurls Viola a sneer. "Tokiha, you got one too? Where did she come from?"
Viola pays the intuitive vixen no mind, still focusing entirely upon the outworldly Natsuki. Their eyes fixate with a subtly Viola can't understand. This Natsuki obviously recognises her.
Has she undergone similar strife as herself?
"I found her in the school. Do you think there are more?"
"I doubt it." Nao flips an old phone open, causing Natsuki to eye the device cautiously. Where did she get that from?! Unfortunately for her, Nao catches sight of this, smirking at her. "Oh? What's this? Do you n—"
"—Yuuki!"
"What? It isn't like there's any point hiding it."
"But this is—!" Storming off in frustration, the vermillion redhead heads to the dismissive woman. "You always do this! You ruin everything!"
"Hey, whoa there, Tokiha. Personal space, much?" The fellow redhead backs away, jabbing a finger towards the other's chest.
This causes Natsuki to edge away from the pair. The arguing redheads don't seem to even notice.
The weirdly dressed Viola motions to her quickly. How does she respond to Viola? Is Durandal up to something? Is this some kind of test? Is she hallucinating again?
Her guard swiftly rises, staring at Viola suspiciously as she approaches. "Viola… you aren't going to be an asshole with me?" Natsuki tests, calculating Viola's response. Interestingly, this causes her to stop and stare at her bewildered.
"I—"
"What's happening? Nobody's explaining anything!" She snaps. "I was by a piano and now I'm here?!"
Why is she getting angry?
"The Harmonium?"
What's that? "Whatever it is, you…" This definitely isn't Viola. It's someone—or something else. "...You aren't Viola, are you?"
"No, I am not." At least, not this Natsuki's.
Surrounding them, debris is scattered upon the cliff. An incredibly battered machine is at the far end. What has happened here? They survey the unknown instrument, gaze falling to its pivotal logo.
They recognise it from somewhere; but where?
Wait. Natsuki realises that this is—"—That's the piano." But it's damaged? It looks ready to fall to bits. "Do you know what that is?" She tries ignoring the arguing redheads, but it seems impossible, this feat fraying her nerves instead.
She watches as Viola stares at it distraughtly. What the hell has happened to her?
"No… I do not." She says quietly before picking her gaze up to Natsuki. She notices the chain dangling from Natsuki's neck, causing her to take a step backwards. "What is that chain?" Something feels wrong about it, and Viola has no clue why.
"It's an Anchor. But it's probably useless now." Natsuki lifts it from under her chestplate, studying the violet hue. It is no longer glowing crimson. She wonders why.
"What does it do?"
"You really aren't Viola, are you?" Natsuki strangely feels relieved, though this only lasts for a few moments. Is she glad Viola hasn't forgotten her? Assuming she can get back through that rift, that is.
"It…" Natsuki takes the Anchor from around her neck, encasing it between her hands. "...Anchors things to reality. If I wanted—" Assuming she will make it work. "—I could Anchor an object here, and force it to my…"
"World?" Viola supplies."
"It's complicated, you wouldn't understand."
"In no doubt I will not."
"You know she's there too, right?" Nao is heard within the distance. "She's connected to all of them. Why not just call her and—"
"—And what? Make matters worse? Do you ever stop to think for five minutes?" Pressing her hands to her face, Tokiha rubs it delicately. She said something else, but it remains unheard by the duo.
"Tokiha, we're making it worse by just having them here."
What are those two talking about? Natsuki glances at the redheads.
"Contacting the Sister will just complicate things…" Sister? Who's that?
"Come on, we're wasting time." Nao mutters at Tokiha in response.
"Fine."
The two have finally come to a conclusion.
But why? How? Natsuki sits herself down at the cliff, peering into the underground lake below. This is a dreamlike hallucination. Can she escape from it? Returning her Anchor around her neck, she props it between her fingers. It is still no longer crimson.
"We're sending you back. Tokiha here has forbidden me to say anything at all." Nao shrugs boredly as she approaches them. As Natsuki stands, she merely eyes her, cocking a brow. "Mi—"
"—Nao!"
"Are you still getting your knickers in a twist about that?" Throwing Mai a smirk, she ignores her afterwards. "Whatever then, ciao." Raising her hand, she spins on her heel, making a move towards the cave's ramp system. She has better things to do.
Once it is just the three of them, Tokiha cuts the ice. "Now. I need you to both listen carefully to me. I can't explain what might happen if this goes wrong." She hurries towards the monumental pillar at the back of the cavern, the pair following briskly.
"Wrong?" Natsuki asks. What is that even supposed to mean? "How is it so dangerous?"
Sensing Natsuki's tension, the outworldly Viola decides to take over. "How might we help?"
Surprise leaps across Tokiha's expression who glances over her shoulder briefly.
"Or should we keep our distance?"
"Keep away. Though you seem better prepared than her." She gestures to Natsuki who shoots her a bemused stare. Taking no notice, she wanders over to the large machine embedded within the pillar itself: The Harmonium.
The redhead is kickstarting the machine.
A grinding echoes throughout the whole subterranean chamber. The walls shudder, and as the Harmonium opens, a thunderous roar pierces the air.
"What the hell is that?!" Natsuki yells over the diabolic screaming. The sheer pandemonium staggers her, making her bump into Viola. "H-how are you even standing still?!" How is that even possible?!
Wait, where did that weapon come from? Before her eyes, Viola has summoned a double glaive-like weapon. Caught by said woman as she stumbles again, they look skywards.
Fire has swarmed the cliffside of the chasm. But there is something else.
Within the billowing smoke, a towering figure is encased. It looms inside and out of the smoke; monstrous wings flapping.
That's Kagutsuchi, isn't it?
Tokiha meanwhile, is solely focused upon the Harmonium. With each keystroke, a blast of energy is propels into the sky. These jets of energy disturb the being who roars. The dragon of pure black obsidian reveals itself through the fire. Again, it screeches, throwing its head to and fro. As it cries, crackling fire is flung, spreading through the cavern by its fiery wings.
"You have to fight him!" Tokiha yells over the chaos.
"We what?! That thing?!" Pointing incredulously at the dragon, Natsuki shoots the woman an outraged stare, who shoves herself away from Viola. How in hell's name are they supposed to kill that?!
It's a fire breathing dragon!
Kiyohime and her Viola aren't here to defeat him! What does she have? An Anchor that likely doesn't work.
Much to their misfortune, the dragon has aimed its sights onto them; jewelled emerald eyes all blinking. He opens his grotesque maw, liquid vapour huffing into hot steam.
Even from this long distance, they can feel the heat—Another harmonic bolt plunges into the sky, making the ground rumble. Almost losing her footing, Viola adjusts herself hastily before checking Natsuki.
The outworldly woman is staggering heavier, and quickly locks their gaze.
She has her crystal tightly grasped within her fist. What could it do?
Whatever the case, Viola can only hope that her GEM is working properly.
Dematerialising her Element, she has no time to think; quickly lunging into the air. Midway upon flying towards the looming dragon, she successfully activates her weapon. The dragon is backing away—Kagutsuchi arches his head backwards, monstrous teeth gleaming.
It's going to throw fire at her!
Natsuki watches in awe as Viola swings herself away from a massive ball of fire. Even from down here, she feels the scorching heat.
Kagutsuchi is then rammed in the gullet by Viola. Unfortunately, it doesn't budge; merely stunned briefly enough to immobilise him from breathing ash.
Swerving upwards, Viola rounds the SLAVE's neck. It thrashes furiously, struggling to reach her mid-flight.
How is she supposed to defeat it? Perhaps the sword is the key?
All Earl SLAVEs have a weak point, so surely this dragon's sword is the same?
But she can't exactly dislodge the thing. Unless…
Floating backwards, she speedily surveys the area. Another blast has ripped from the Harmonium, bolting skywards.
Watching the beam of energy blast against the chasm ceiling, another quake rumbles.
That is it!—The dragon wildly lunges for her, flapping its wings haphazardly. Fire and ash slams across the chamber, its sheer force smashing her against the far wall.
Stunned, she drops to the floor, only managing to land upon her feet barely.
"Viola!" Natsuki yells out, rushing towards the outworldly woman.
"Move! It's charging!" Viola cries, the two throwing themselves away just as the dragon slams into the chasm wall.
Though the blade isn't hit, it is stunned by the impact and seems confused. It pushes off into the air, heavily beating its wings. An air current blasts down, enveloping them into a dangerous ash. The cavern is much smaller than what it initially seems.
The fire is suffocating.
Their lungs are burning.
Through the ash clouds, Viola sees it. The dragon screams, lambasting its head and body against all available obstacles.
There.
Now.
Slacking her Element, Viola latches the bladed chain around the monstrous SLAVE's sword, the end wrapping around its snout. She has done it. With all her might, she twists around, and pulls.
This has to work.
Rocks, dirt and debris are scattered by the dragon's flailing. Aimlessly smashing its tail to and fro, the absolute noise rockets inside Viola's head. She is losing her grip.
A panic starts to boil down inside of her gut—the Harmonium. Her only chance will be to lure it into the beams.
With each tug, her hands slip against her Element. Retracting it, she recoils the weapon back into its bladed form.
Leaping back and plunging into the sky, the fuming dragon stalks her. Either the SLAVE will kill her, or the beam will.
Decision made—time zone; the SLAVE is hit by the beams. But these don't belong to the Harmonium.
Several have clipped into the dragon, sending it hurdling. Shimmering and transparent, a final roar shrills from the SLAVE, before… nothing.
What was…?
Viola is falling, but she can neither see nor understand her circumstance. Suddenly, as if by magic, the scenery morphs, twisting back into her own reality.
Natsuki meanwhile, having fallen onto her rear, watches Kagutsuchi shimmer into sparkles.
W-where has Viola gone?
Where have those beams come from? Eyes sweeping towards the cliffside, she sees a lone figure with an ethereal bow.
Who… is that?
Chapter Themes: Taishi — (Phant Prologue) Chapter 3, Obsession & (Phant Prologue) Signal.
Slamming against the floor, Natsuki is stunned.
W-what has just happened?
Taking several moments, she slowly heaves herself up. Before her, is her lantern.
Is she back? Seizing the lantern, Natsuki whirls around only to come face to face with Durandal. Her Anchor glows with crimson energy, forcing her gaze towards it. Then, her psyche collapses. Crumbling to her knees, a pained cry releases from her throat.
She is of two existences. One of Earth, the other from Earl.
"Who am I?"
Kuga has been murdered by the crazed Fujino Shizuru.
"B-but Viola's—"
...Kruger? Assassination by explosives.
"I-I'm… not… dead!"
The Holy Lands—Wyrmgærd—the place she has just been, is Fuuka.
"No."
With the Heart of Transmission, her inner self has emerged.
"No!"
Durandal's gaze is dead-set with Natsuki's.
Before her, he bestows upon Natsuki her every fear.
You fear the unknown depths.
What shall you become?
Denial and loss.
You are terrified that the Arcewælcyrge is a mistake.
"S-shut up…" Natsuki's eyes quickly veer from Durandal's crimsons. What does he know? How could he know anything when she hasn't revealed a thing? Natsuki's head arches downward, staring into her lantern's dim flame. She can hardly see a thing inside this chamber. Even with her sallet visor open. Yet, Durandal's mute voice booms within her mind.
Viola is enclosed, reckless and pragmatic.
She is terrified of losing herself…
...But has the drive to achieve the impossible.
She is a mistake.
"Why do you keep calling her a mistake?!" Natsuki snarls. A feeling from the dark recesses of her mind engulfs her. This feeling is—she recognises it. Alas, Durandal does not explain himself, for he reveals something fatal.
The woman with the bow.
She is the Dark Whisperer.
In order to stabilise Earl…
...You must gather all the Anchors.
Before her, the Dark Whisper, does.
Unto Natsuki, the great wolf encircles her suddenly. Hanging from Natsuki's throat, her Anchor shines an even more overwhelming scarlet.
W-what's happening?
Durandal has granted her answers, now he wishes to threaten her?! "W-what are you doing?!"
A Key must be killed before it can serve.
How does that make any sense?! The mindlessness of it all is—great crystalline energy above them blinds the chamber. Startled, Natsuki drops her lantern and covers her eyes. "A-agh…" She groans in pain. W-what's… happening?!
Woefully, her answer never came. Especially not when more wolves enter from the stairs she had originally come from. Is this truly the same area?
Panic wells within the Ánhere when she hears their snarls.
Within the room's centre is a natural pool. M-maybe she can circle them around there?
Rushing for the icy pool, she quickly notices strange items littering around it. Before the rift, they would have been alien to her.
Now?
A dachshund toy…
…a bloodied hair pin
derringer pistols…
…a portable cannon turret
smartphone…
These are from her previous lives and in various ways, they've all been sentimental to her.
But how is she supposed to kill Durandal?! She doesn't want to?!
Her eyes seize upon crimson painting her old hair pin.
S-she did die in an explosion… didn't she? Natsuki's legs give way again. At that moment, Durandal leaps at her.
They are thrown backwards into the icy water below, shocking Natsuki. Upon the impact, her sallet goes flying, and Durandal's jaws are enclosing around her head. Then, her Anchor explodes into glorifying light, smashing into her Key's body.
The wolves are no longer here.
Or, had they ever been? Natsuki couldn't fathom what had happened, nor… that she…
Within the water, her consciousness starts fading. Somewhere in her distant mind, the voices from before return. They call out to her desperately, wanting nothing more than to be free from Suihōhime's Heart.
Please hilf uns!
Ic will nicht die!
Þu muss halt hit.
Das Golden Millennium.
Heavy footfalls echo across the bright chamber.
Viola is the first to enter, her façade very near to breaking point. Frantically the Arcewælcyrge looks around this inexplicably bright room. Where is Natsuki?!
Not a sign of the items from earlier are present. Nor is the rift nor Durandal.
There is water.
An awful feeling wraps around Viola's gut as she hesitantly approaches the natural spring. Her fears are correct.
"Arcewælcyrge?!"
She ignores the panicked call from above, leaping into the water—armour included. The water shocks her body and mind to the core. Arms weakly hooking around Natsuki's midriff, she forces her body to move. How long has Natsuki been like this? What the hell happened?!
Heaving Natsuki out of the water, Viola collapses beside her. S-she managed it—somehow. Gasping for breath, she coughs up a lungful of water.
S-she's freezing.
They both are.
"N-Natsuki." She stresses, prising herself over the unconscious woman. "Natsuki?" No answer is received. Hovering downwards, she places her ear beside her mouth. Neither is she breathing. This is serious: S-he… Squeezing her eyes shut, Viola released a strained breath. Oh, Gods'. What does she do?
She's all battered and her sallet's missing. But how did she end up in the water if it's inexplicably bright here? "Agh!" Clenching her fist, she smashes it down beside the unconscious Ánhere. Clearly there's no other choice. Getting onto her knees, Viola prepped her hands upon Natsuki's soaked chest.
One—Two.
.
One—Two.
. .
One—Two.
. . .
One—Two.
. . . .
One—Two.
'I-it is not working?!' Confusion, panic and conflicting pain hammers the Arcewælcyrge.
W-wait, isn't the… t-the—she has forgotten t—Oh, Gods'. NOTHING'S WORKING!
One—Two.
. . . . . .
One—Two.
. . . . . . .
One—Two.
. . . . . . . .
One—Two.
. . . . . . . . .
One—Two.
. . . . . . . . . .
One—Two.
. . . . . . . . . .
ONE—TW—
Frustration and anxiety overwhelms action. Her hands stilled upon the Ánhere's chest: A conflicting mess will not leave her alone.
Natsuki won't like what she is about to perform, but what other choice does she have?
Hovering her hand towards Natsuki's face, her fingers quiver as they latch against her jaw. Steeling her nerves—albeit these crumbling—Viola inhales deeply. Sealing their lips together in panic, she forces air within Natsuki's lungs.
Nothing.
O N E — T W O.
. . . . . . . . . . .
O N E — T W—
Emeralds shooting open, the Ánhere chokes aggressively on water.
Viola moves away within an instant, giving her space, relief engulfing her. Oh… thank the Gods'...
Twisting onto her side, Natsuki coughs up the rest of the water, eyes hazy.
What had… A terrible pain overwhelms her. "U-gh…" She feels as if a horse has smashed into her.
Unbeknownst to her, this may very well be true, for her state is concerning. Not hearing anything, but feeling a cautious nudge against her shoulder, bloodshot eyes lift to Viola's. Has she rescued her from those watery pits of hell? "V-Viola…?" She drones, trying to ignore the ringing within her ears, feeling dreary and pained. Oh, how she has missed her...
Viola's hands seize Natsuki's shoulders, pulling her close. "N-Na—" Before she can respond, Viola is forced into a searing liplock.
A-ah? She stiffens, hands trembling behind Natsuki's back before her hands uselessly slide against her chestplate.
The kiss is fiery and desperate.
It catalogues their strife, pain and loneliness. As quickly as the first ends, another commences. Breathless, Viola is slammed against the muddy rock with Natsuki looming above, ending the second.
"I...I am so glad…" Viola sighs a stressed breath, a line of saliva breaking upon her declaration. "I thought this was the end—t-that I will never… never… I will never…"
"Viola, I—" Lips sealed by the Arcewælcyrge's, a smouldering tightness plunges within the Ánhere's gut. It spurs ever downwards, diving towards the apex of her legs.
H-huh?
"Vio-la!" Heaving upwards against the elder, she miraculously breaks her lips from hers. "I-I remember everything! My life on Earth and Earl! T-the… the… everything's so…" Squeezing her eyes shut, Natsuki bends downwards until her brow touches Viola's chest. "I… yet I—! I don't understand anything?!" An anguished cry escapes from her…
Damn it all.
A/N: When writing Lēoht Gaest's timeline, I'll have a general idea of what's happening first. This will proceed into bullet points that quickly connect several ideas and events throughout chapters. Usually a chapter that's freshly bullet pointed is around half finished.
This is when I move onto selecting music. When I write Lēoht Gaest, music's used to build upon the atmosphere of its scenes. When a chapter's initially timelined, I'll use specific music tracks. This means that the chapter's "atmosphere" is snapped to a certain style.
For instance, the music I used when creating Paradoxe is by Schwarzwald Amo (corvus). Their music and arrangements are flawless for creating a sense of mystery, sinister tension and hopelessness. This is paramount for Paradoxe as it flows between stressful segments.
Moving back to Cyne Wælcyrge, I build upon its anxiety and suspense using tracks from: Taishi, Jason Graves, Nier, Dark Souls, Schwarzwald Amo (corvus), Tatsh, Tarja, Nightwish, Amberian Dawn and Sirenia.
This music—though indeed it helps—isn't specifically used to create the ideas themselves. For Ġecume Onlíhting especially, I needed progress for more substance to be formed. Going from A to B simply doesn't work for me. As such, many ideas have been planned months beforehand. This is evident in regards to the multiple universes within Lēoht Gaest.
Reviews
Cthulhu-Anne — Cyne Wælcyrge's a slow paced story with infrequent updates. Reviews are posted, but it takes a while. There's a lot of internal reasons why it doesn't get as many reviews etc. I receive 1,500-2,000 views per month in total and around 1-3 reviews. I feel sorry for Tomoe, she's hated even when written in her manga format. •̀ᴥ•́
Darwater — You're like the thirstiest ShizNutter I've met hahaha.
elizabeth charlotte — Yeah, FanFiction's notifications screw up for me every so often as well. Every year or so, it fails to mention I've received reviews, it's extremely annoying. I'm glad I've kept things confusing, though I do worry it's driving some people away.
English Imperial Weight
Grain (gr) — 1/7000 of a pound
Dram (dr) — 1/16 of an ounce
Ounce (oz) — 16 dram, 437.5 grains
Pound (lb) — 16 ounce, 7000 grains
Nail — 7 pounds, 1/16 of an hundredweight
Clove — 7 pounds of wool, 8 pounds of cheese
Stone (st) — 14 pounds
Tod — 2 stone, ¼ hundredweight
Quarter (qr) — 2 stone, ¼ of an hundredweight
Hundredweight (cwt) — 8 stone, 112 pounds
Ton — 2240 pounds, 20 hundredweight
Note — The English imperial stone is not to be confused with the Scottish imperial stone which equals 16 pounds.
