Chapter Restructured & Expanded: 05-05-23.

ACT III
Under Dimnes þa wit Begrēton
(Beneath Evil we Lament)


Arc Theme: Abyss — Amberian Dawn.


XXVI • CM Bæþdæg of Thrimilce
(The 26th Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Bath Day, 900)
Sunrise

The dark voices repel any semblance of logic within Natsuki's sundered mind. But one speaks to her clearer than any other:

'Blæc Columne curnan. Oþ Tell Aswad.'

The Black Column comes to the Black Temple.

…What place is that?

Endless plains of sand trespasses Natsuki's vision, until a dark spire materialises.

'Þær hit nu gen lifað.'

...It's rushed beneath the earth…

'Oþ ey wæs ofereode.'

...Until it is overcome…

Before her very eyes, this monumental column crumbles into a hundred-thousand pieces. Sand billows into a cataclysmic eruption, enveloping her vision. 'Wælcyrge, héo ong—' The voice is hindered, for Viola's arms are encircling Natsuki's body.

"She is still unresponsive."

Is she? Brought back to reality, Natsuki stares through the elder Wælcyrge who looms above her.

Viola is still fully armoured and they are within the cursed Kiyohime Shrine. It feels like aeons have passed, yet they are still here…? Through her sallet, Natsuki continues staring. She attempts to speak, but is unable. Her body simply refuses to function.

All she can do is desperately listen.

"I will order the Knights out." It is the Knight-Commander speaking. "Are you sure you can ma—"

"—I did not ask for assistance."

W-why is Viola covered in blood? Her armoured front is smeared by darkening crimson.

Thus, it sparks a flashback of turmoil. Shaking, Natsuki garners Viola's attention.

"Natsuki?" The internal voices continue their rambling crusade, forcing her into further hollowed functionality. When will it end? Can it ever…? H-how did Viola ever—"Natsuki. What is wrong?"

"S-Shi…zu…" Natsuki frightfully snatches Viola's forearms, too weak to even cling. "I-I—I can't…"

It's too much.

She squeezes her eyes shut, her lips quivering. She's killed someone and voices who did not belong now torment her! "H-help… me…!"

Viola can only stare with sadness for a moment.

What is she going to do? Gods', tell her!

"...Natsuki." All around them, Knights are exiting the Shrine. Kiyohime's body is still partially behind Viola. The fried corpse terrifying Natsuki. "I will get you out of here." She promises, sliding an arm from Natsuki's grip.

Delicately so, she then hooks her free limb behind Natsuki's head. "I shall lift you, hold on."

Natsuki can only muster a weak nod, curling her arms around her Wælcyrge's shoulders. To her, she is suspended; their armour sliding together awkwardly.

Painstakingly, Viola carries Natsuki out from the Shrine.

Wincing upon the invasive sunlight, Viola stands by the steps. How is she going to get Natsuki out of here? She cautiously traces her boot against the initial step; it's far too slippery. But Natsuki is in no state to stand, nevermind to climb treacherous terrain.

Nor will she have any help from anybody.

If anyone touches Natsuki… a scorching fire swells within her.

A step.

"A-are you… al—"

Viola ignores her, bracing herself against the steps' wall. She wishes she had removed her helmet before doing this… Alas, she takes another step.

One after another, the Wælcyrge ascends from their climb, the sunlight bearing down upon them.

Next, she sets her sights upon Hallard and Gallagher who stare with both concern and admiration. "Have the Knights prepare to return. We shall not pursue Yatagarasu; it is far too dangerous." Without a word, the two women nod, focusing their attention to the Knights in question.

"Start preparing to move out! By nightfall we shall have a funeral service!"

How can Viola command them so easily…? Natsuki is stiff against the woman, the chilled air making her feel numb.

Oh, how she…—What?—"Quiet…" She mumbles at the voices foreboding her soul. They speak of such ill and hurtful things. Of crumbling pillars, floods, infernos and ruin. Is this what the soul maddened experience? Is this… t-this…

"S-Shiz—"

Entering their tent, Viola tenderly lays Natsuki upon the bedding. "It is fine. I promise y—"

"—N-no… y-you—I-I…" A confusing struggle commences. Natsuki can not understand why she fights against Viola's hold.

W-why?

Clearly she cares for her! She will not have… have…! "M-make it… stop…!" Natsuki cries out. "P-please… I…" A gasp releases from deep within her chest and with swift succession, she sobs.

Viola, who looms above, can only watch.

Is this how she looked when she lost Anh…?

Then, determination pools within Viola who unequips her gauntlets. The detachment of her bevor follows, the item thrown aside swiftly.

W-what's she do—Before Natsuki has a chance to fathom it, Viola is stripping down her armour before her. "S-stop…"

"I shan't harm you." Viola assures, unthreading her gambeson. Her breasts are partially revealed, causing Natsuki to visibly flinch.

A distinct sensation wells within Viola's chest upon the reaction. It is something fiery which must remain contained. Yet, she… Approaching Natsuki, her knees crash either side of her pelvis. "You want everything to stop. The voices, images, your past—perhaps to even disappear? For a time… maybe I can stop it."

What's she getting at…? Natsuki wearily stares, even as her sallet is delicately removed. The tension from before is returning, nor is Viola explaining herself. "P-ple—"

"—Natsuki, I… I am so sorry." Viola mumbles, her hands enveloping her cheeks. There's very little she can do for her, unless… Viola's eyes darken with distant reminiscence.

Natsuki is so vulnerable.

Exhaling a single breath, she closes her eyes.

"V-Violaghn—" Shocking electricity swarms Natsuki as their lips crash together. W-what's happening?! Viola is straddling her, keeping her pressed down.

There's no way she can escape this.

D-did she… want to…?

The kiss finishes far too quickly. Saliva links their lips, before being broken by her Arcewælcyrge. Viola merely continues to loom above, panting.

The twisting of her chest, her heart racing—it's too much. So much so that Natsuki grabs Viola's gambeson. Clear confusion is witnessed between them, until Natsuki initiates another liplock.

It is hefty and desperate.

All the emotions and psychological trauma engulfs them. All Natsuki can do is… forget.

Everything which she has become is wrong. Yet… Viola's…

All at once, she feels incredibly nervous. Pulling from Viola, startled viridian stare into crimson. "I-I—" A thumb instead silences her, the rough pad smearing against her lips. Heaving for air and flushing, she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Listen to me." Viola commands, the order making Natsuki's eyes open.

"We will get through this—together. I will not abandon you, Natsuki."


CHAPTER XVIII
Beloren Sáwol (Deprived Soul)


Natsuki's 2nd Theme: Breathe Again — Amberian Dawn.


XXIX • CM Wigesdæg of Thrimilce
(The 29th Day of the Month of Three Milkings, Warrior's Day, 900)

"How's Natsuki?" Chie asks once they have arrived at the Palace.

Knights and servants are unloading resources and equipment all around them. This time, there is an unfortunate sorrow within the air. Word has quickly spread of what has happened at the Key Shrines.

"She has been very quiet." Viola imparts, looking towards the waggon in which Natsuki resides. No doubt her Ánhere—raised Wælcyrge—she momentarily closes her eyes.

Oh, how she wishes that had not happened.

The fact makes her blood boil. If Kiyohime ever—

"—Arcewælcyrge?"

She smiles in response, a gesture that unsettles the two Knights. "I shall return to her side." Making no motion to stop, Viola is however held up by the Knight-Commander.

"Ah, Arcewælcyrge?" A turn of regard. "Perhaps… it will do you both a world of good to go elsewhere?"

Sarah stares hard at Chie; the notion is soon in unison with Viola.

"The Palace is bound to cause strain."

"What might you suggest?" Viola catches the two off guard. It seems they did not expect that response. Faintly, Viola's smile widens. "The Kingdom is at war with Florence. The Palace will be under ill disadvantage with—"

"—out you?"

A tension rises within the atmosphere.

"I do not mean to be rude, but…" The Knight-Commander shifts uncomfortably, receiving a warning glare from Gallagher. "...You're both worse for wear. Look at what you just went through. Haven't you th—"

"—I have thought greatly about Natsuki and I's situation." Viola snaps, twisting on her heel to leave. She ignores the stares fired her way, stepping up onto the waggon Natsuki is inside.

Within a corner by the barrels, she remains huddled. Upon seeing her, Viola's heart sinks. "Natsuki, we have ret—" She approaches to kneel before her, but is set upon. Stumbling backwards, Natsuki scrambles into her lap. "N-Natsuki?"

"D-Don't leave me." Natsuki mumbles, hiding her face into the startled Wælcyrge's neck. "You… you're the only thing keeping me sane."

The voices will not relent.

Within a dark embrace, they whisper impossibilities at her: Of terrifying maybes and obscene realities. "I-I do—don't know what's true or false anymore." The confession plunges from her throat. A shaky intake of air is taken, before Natsuki's hands tighten within Viola's frilled front.

It has been like this throughout their returning journey.

"I will not leave your side." Viola whispers, easing her tight hold.

Natsuki becomes distraught, until she is quickly wrapped into a calming embrace.

"Do not feel ashamed to wallow in lament." She presses her lips against Natsuki's temple. "You have experienced such horrors which do not deserve to exist."

Will Viola dare to reveal the consequences of the man Natsuki accidentally killed? …No. Not now, perhaps not for a long while. Maybe even never.

Feeling her shirt dampen, Viola can only brush her fingers through coal strands. "It is fine. You are strong. We will find a way through this." Viola's hand glides to Natsuki's front, confusing the younger woman. Cautiously she touches Natsuki's Anchor, which immediately sparks something inside of her.

"N-no!" Natsuki jostles backwards from the Arcewælcyrge's hold. Clutching hold of the Anchor, she stares at her terrified. "D-don't touch it…!"

"...Why?" Viola studies her, almost as surprised as Natsuki. Albeit the younger Wælcyrge panting and looking as though she has seen a ghost.

"I-I don't…!" Natsuki's grip relents from her Anchor. Instead, her hands cup her head. "I-I can't do this anymore!" She cries, tears welling within her eyes.

Why is she being so weak?! And in front of Viola?!

S-she—Wheezing gasps interrupt her fragile mind, distorting any logic that even remains. Viola only looks at her with pity! Hugging herself, her hands snatch either upper sleeve.

Nothing makes sense… Her mind is spinning… More answers spark confusing questions…

She's… She's… Weary viridian shifts to Viola.

Suddenly, the tears stop and emptiness greets her.

Viola also notices the abrupt demeanour. Watching Natsuki closely, she tries edging closer—alas, for Natsuki lumbers backwards. However, Viola will not have it. Their awkward chase comes to an end when Natsuki's back hits the waggon's wall.

"Will you come to the quarters?" Viola asks her quietly, neither touching nor nearing closer. She positions herself into a partial seiza, staring into Natsuki's frightened eyes. "Please?"

Clutching her Anchor, Natsuki looks to the hand which is offered to her. The same palm which has cut down bandits and touches her. Instead, she tucked her side against the wall, mumbling incoherently.

"I will not abandon you."

After an unmeasured time later, Natsuki says, her voice silent and wary: "You're just like her…"

'Like her?' Viola's mind echoes as she studies Natsuki. She still looks so afraid and confused… "Like your Shizuru?"

"Mh." The darkness which ebbs Natsuki's soul has dulled her senses to breaking point. She feels she may collapse if she stands. Exhaustion entangles her psyche so much, she… "Whenever I got hurt, she'd…" Her eyes became distant with thought. "...come to my side and would never leave it. Sometimes she looked so bloodthirsty."

A humourless laugh escapes her before tears again sting her eyes. Angrily she rubs her face, her head tilting against her knees soon after.

"Do you dislike that I am similar to her?"

The question becomes stuck within Natsuki's blistered mind. Viola is but isn't hers. Lifting her head, the action feels monumentally difficult. Vision unfocused, she stares through her Arcewælcyrge. "She once told me she'd chase me through time and space." A faint smile casts. "What a stupid woman."

The fiery hellscape from within the Shrine's breach comes to mind. Another Viola had resided there: One who did not belong either. Is this—their eyes lock—Viola her Shizuru who had chased her through time and space? Or is the one within the breach… Natsuki's lips part slightly.

"Natsuki." Tired green hesitantly returns to scarlet. "Please. Let us return to the quarters." Viola dips close, hands tenderly pressing to her shoulders. "You have not eaten for three days and you are cold and exhausted." Surprise lights within her eyes as Natsuki raises her hand, her fingers curling around Viola's palm. "For me?"

Natsuki nods mutely, getting hauled onto her feet. Their move out of the waggon is alike the Shrine steps; strenuous and slow. Once Natsuki's feet are safely upon soil, Viola's gaze sweeps upon three servants.

The trio stares at them with genuine fear.

So… word has already spread like wildfire.

"Our equipment is within this waggon." She states, nearly giving them panic attacks. "Have it sent to the armoury."

Pitiful.

As they leave, Viola braces Natsuki into her side. With any luck, they will reach the quarters without bumping into anyone else. "How are you feeling?"

"I want to die."

At least she's honest?

Viola watches her as they step into the servants' wing. Mayhaps she should have Natsuki write down her thoughts again? Though, she has promised she will partake in this activity as well. It'd be a bonding experience, she supposes. "We will deal with it a step at a time." Viola's gaze crosses the hallway, spotting the Spymaster.

Mahya awaits them at the corner leading to their quarters, summoning them.

"I heard." The Spymaster's hands are hooked behind herself, turning on her heel to fall in line with Viola.

"Not now, please." A nod is sent her way before Mahya slips the quarter's key within her hand. As the woman turns the corner, Viola unlocks the door and ushers Natsuki inside.

Familiar comfort washes over her, immediately settling her nerves.

Somewhat.

"Would you like something to eat?" She receives a shake of the head. "A bath?" The action is repeated. "Sleep?"

Natsuki lumbers to the table, sitting down in a chair haphazardly. "I… don't know…"

"Take your time." Viola halts beside her, momentarily tracing a hand along her shoulder. Forcing a smile, she then removes her knee-length crimson jacket. Draping it onto a nearby chair, she sits herself into it. "I will be cancelling each event we are required to parlay."

Laying her forearm against an armrest, Viola hums before smearing a free hand against her face. These past few days have been agonising. Their current situation is concerning as it is. Undoubtedly, Natsuki's personality will drastically change. What kind of Wælcyrge will she be? Setting her gaze upon Natsuki, she attentively examines her.

Apart from mental turmoil, she is fine.

Natsuki looks elsewhere, adamant to not lock their gaze. What is she supposed to do…? That Knight's eyes keep flashing before her. Her face scrunches up in response, flinching as the scenario replays within her mind.

'Stop.'

"I—" She sighs, eyes bolting to the crown-glass window. Droplets of rain start battering it, sliding across the surface. "—Just want to forget."

Maybe she should sleep.

Viola watches her as she hobbles out of her chair. But why would she bother? It's obvious she'd be unable to. Viola, as well… she looks at her so… what? Natsuki eyes her briefly, retreating her gaze swiftly.

Viola stands from her own chair and rounds it. Natsuki warily watches her, taking a step back.

"What is wrong?"

Natsuki recognises that look from somewhere.

Her fleeting gaze caught another eyefull, crimson eyes curious, concerned and fixated. But there's darkness present. A twist of unknown desire, bloodthirst and vengeance. All at once, Natsuki is reminded how monstrous this woman before her is.

Back hitting the wall, Natsuki's nerves spike. N-no… s-he… Legs buckling, her knees hit the floorboards dully. There she hugs herself, staring at a board's rivets. It is as though it is the most interesting thing in the universe. Nary a shred of sense remains inside her, does it?

Natsuki can only mumble.

"Come." Viola kneels before her, gently cupping her cheeks so they lock eyes. "Let us lie in bed. Nothing has to be said or done. Alright?"

Is it? Truly? Natsuki's face twitches with fear, Head hanging, she hasn't the mental capacity to disobey her. Thus, Viola hauls her back onto her feet.

They stand motionless for a moment, staring at each other intensely. As quickly as the tension rises, it again falls upon Natsuki's anxious dismissal.

She motions to leave for her own room, but a hand hinders this process. Eyes downcast upon the floorboards, Natsuki's breath catches within her throat.

Now what?

Her heart races, the twisting feeling within her chest returning like a hurricane.

"You're in no fit state to remain in your room. You see something in there as well, do you not?"

What's she…? Realisation and panic wells within Natsuki. Oh, Gods'. All that time ago? Viola had known that? "But—"

"—How?" If Natsuki wasn't so distraught, Viola might've teased her for being so oblivious back then.

Obviously she hadn't realised how easy she is to read sometimes. "Allow us to speak our thoughts?" Viola tugs her delicately, turning her head towards her own bedroom. "If only you wish for it."

"H-how will I know you w-won't do… anything?"

What…? Viola releases her, causing Natsuki to crumble against the wall. "Natsuki. Even when I was soul maddened, have I ever truly harmed you?"

Her anxiety is plunging through the charts.

"I… I know." Natsuki mumbles, shakily lifting to her feet and moving to the door. Viola is just behind her, opening it for her. "It's just the nerves…" She tells herself this, echoing it internally several times over.

It doesn't seem to help much.

Though as Viola enters the bedroom afterwards and closes the door, her heart races painfully.

Is she overreacting?

"Which side would you prefer?"

It takes Natsuki a moment to realise Viola is talking about the bed. She… "Right side." It is closest towards the balcony doors. Maybe the rain that is picking up will aid her in sleep? Probably not, but she supposes it can't hurt to hope.

Right?

Viola watches her stand motionless. If she had her way, would she stand idle for hours? Clasping her hands to Natsuki's shoulders from behind, this causes her to flinch. Instead, Viola soothes her, one hand trailing down to brush down her back. "Are you stuck?"

"Y-yeah." Natsuki sits herself down heavily upon her end. Hers? Nevertheless, she glares down at her boots, only now noticing how cold her feet are. "Should I get—" She makes a motion to twist around, and flushes.

Viola has already untied her shirt open and is examining her torso. Bandages cling to her frame; not a crimson blemish in sight.

Her mind fires back to when she helped Tomoe sear shut Viola's wound. Especially to the time Kagutsuchi consumed her within flames… How is this woman alive?

Having been focused on her torso, Viola's gaze picks up, their gaze catching.

Taut silence reigns.

Viola veers her gaze, starting to tie her shirt back up. Afterwards, she then kicks off her boots. All the while, the other stays fixated upon her.

Genuinely she is unsure what to do. She can't exactly leave Natsuki alone. But neither is this free from risk. "Are you still cold?"

"A little." Natsuki watches as Viola flops back onto the bed within the dim light. Wait. This is still her Wælcyrge's domain. The last time she was here, she had slept on the floor. Now she's sleeping beside her?

Slow. Down.

They have already shared a bed together at the Key Shrines.

Scenarios mix together, bewildering Natsuki who growls aloud. Instead, Viola interrupts her mind, her arm wraps around her shoulders to tug her down.

Heart asunder, Natsuki finds herself looming above Viola. "W-wait, I need to take off my boots." The Wælcyrge's grip laxes just enough for her to complete the deed. Once finishing, she is again pulled downwards. Her head finding Viola's bosom, she immediately stiffens. "What if I h—"

"You are getting lost within your head again, Natsuki."


I • CM Moldedæg of Ærraliða
(The 1st Day Before-Mild, Earl Day, 900)
Two Days Later

"Last year we captured the harbour city of Arles from Florence." Mayha reports within her office before Viola and Natsuki. "Her Majesty will like the two of you to go there and increment defence and training. Every week you are to make a progress report."

Somehow, the Knight-Commander has persuaded the Queen to relieve Viola from her Palace duties. Of course, this means that Natsuki will be going as well. But this poor woman. She looks completely clueless, if not anxious.

"Natsuki." Nervous viridian lock upon her. "You are to train beneath the Arcewælcyrge. This is your chance to discover who you are and what you will like to become."

"The Knight-Commander is responsible for this decision, is she not?" Viola asks, her voice dripping into a dangerous tone. Very few people can knock sense into the Queen, and Hallard is one of those people.

Mayha quietly regards her before nodding. "She is, yes. Which is why she isn't at the Palace today. You shall both be departing tonight on horseback." Opening her desk's drawer, the Spymaster offers a tied scroll. "Here is Arles' report including Windbloom's updated map."

Natsuki meanwhile, can only watch on as Viola opens up the parchment sheets. Hesitantly she edges closer to look; Windbloom looks vast and is dotted by myriads of forest. To the south-west is an out-of-place desert—the Black Valley.

It is right on the border to the Altay Empire, a country that is gargantuan. Some things never change, do they…?

Meanwhile, to the north-east is Florence. Right on their shared border is Arles.

Is that supposed to be the Aries Republic…?

"I assume we are to take the bare essentials?"

"Correct. It will only slow down your trip. You are also to journey alone as to decrease the risk of provoking the Florentines."

Natsuki feels useless in this meeting. But on the other hand, she's kind of excited. She does not like the Palace, nor does she feel comfortable around its inhabitants. They are false images of her previous life, and the servants are terrified of her.

How can somebody be afraid of Natsuki?

Worse, the knowledge of the Knight has spiralled out of control. Maybe this is another reason Hallard's trying to get them out of the Palace? For everyone's sake?

After hours of preparation, it's the afternoon when they're ready to depart. Now within the quarters, Natsuki sinks into a chair and sighs. "I still don't understand why we're going when it's getting dark."

"The cover of darkness does us well to slip by unnoticed." Viola murmurs, idly tracing a hand along a counter drawer. She does not look at Natsuki, seeing deeper in thought than usual.

Is she looking for something?

This is indeed the case, for the Wælcyrge opens the drawer and sifts through its contents. "Though the bandits have been eradicated, there may still be straddlers." Ah, that reminds her; she must receive a new sword before their journey.

Oh, the bandits. Natsuki had forgotten all about them. "What are you looking for?"

"Beacons. Yukino gave them to me long ago. With those I can redirect pigeon carriers back and forth."

With any luck, they can relay information secretly whilst at Arles. She supposed they will also have to communicate via cipher. Well, that is for later, not the present. Finding them, she presents the two transparent crystals to Natsuki. "They have magic imbued inside. Essentially they shall reprogramme a pigeon's navigational awareness."

Taking the lumps, Natsuki's brow furrows faintly. "It all sounds illogical to me." She returns the crystals, taking to looking out the crown-glass window.

It is quickly getting dark, and a downpour of rain makes it even harder to see. For two entire days, it's been raining. That, and they will be travelling through it. Great.

"Many things are illogical. These lands are cold and brutal, yet such beautiful things are found within." Viola murmurs, placing the beacons down upon the table.

Natsuki's eyes lock with hers upon this statement. They are silent for a time, until Viola throws a calm smile. Turning, she then leans down, lifting up a single sack. "Let us depart. We must first visit the armoury."

Natsuki can only stare hesitantly, having been caught off guard by Viola's words. '...yet such beautiful things…' Was that aimed at her or is she well over her head again?

"Natsuki?"

Scrambling from the chair, the fledgling Wælcyrge realises her mistake. "Y-yeah, I'm coming."

Viola in the meantime eases the sack into Natsuki's hold. "Everything contained inside are our worldly possessions. We shall not return to the Palace for quite some time." She turns to her chair, taking her crimson jacket. "I have been on such expeditions before. They usually last for several months."

Since this is on enemy lines, it'll probably last longer.

"Did you ever go on any with Anh?" Natsuki observes as the Wælcyrge pauses from donning her jacket. Clearly Viola's recollecting something. Instead, Viola mutely takes the beacons and pockets them. Are they full of bad memor—

"—Most of my expeditions with Anh involved killing bandits and criminals." Viola reveals suddenly, giving the quarters a final surveying sweep. "Through her, I learned how easy it is to take a life." Furthermore, how apparent it is to lose a loved one.

She will not go over the details with Natsuki.

After all, both their initialisations into Wælcyrgehood are awfully similar. They are accidental. A mistake.

"Come." She turns on her heel, heading towards the door.

Natsuki can only follow obediently, wondering whether this is a bad omen.

Upon exiting the quarters, Viola passes over the key to an awaiting servant who eyes them apprehensively. The Arcewælcyrge brushes by with disinterest, taking the sack from Natsuki. "Do you have any experience with equestrianism?"

"With what?"

"I will take that as a no, then." Viola quietly chuckles as they turn a corner. They then take the door out into the courtyard. Natsuki was here previously, taking shelter under the doorway from the rain. Ironic, considering once again it is raining. "Equestrianism is the art of horse riding."

Why does horse riding have such an obnoxious term? Natsuki's brow furrows, but she does not follow up on it. For a time, they instead remain beneath the doorway, watching the downpour silently.

Rain is such a mystifying aspect. On one hand, it is reminiscent of times long past. The other? Natsuki finds it impossible to describe. It's like something is… missing? Her gaze creeps towards Viola whose head is tilted back, her crimson gaze inspecting the Moon.

Or what little she can see of it, for it is sporadically hidden by cloud-cover.

Viola's mind is elsewhere: What does the Arcewælcyrge think about? Rarely does Natsuki understand her. Truthfully, does she even want to? She can hardly fathom herself out as it is. Thus… Natsuki ignores the relentless questions. "Has anyone invented waterproof clothing yet?"

"Hm? No, unfortunately." Viola heads out into the courtyard, tracing a hand along the well's brick frame upon passing. Her steps are light; only the faintest of splashes heard underfoot. "Are you worried that we will be drenched tonight?"

"Not just that. Getting ill." Isn't that a worst case scenario when on the road? Natsuki can remember the carnage it caused during her previous life. Survival hikes and fevers do not mix well at all. But, she hadn't a choice.

"The rest of our equipment has been stored inside the armoury. I have also requested warm clothes for the journey."

Florence is a colder country, after all. Not severe like the Key Shrines, but still evidently cooler than Windbloom's average temperature. Will Natsuki like the coast? Arles is positioned by the Galleria Sound; a treacherous coast of grand cliffs.

Or, that is what sailors think of that location. The sea—through all conditions—seem so serene to Viola. Its prowess is pristine, one she can't hope to replicate. The thought infuriates her to no end.

Soon they make entry into the armoury. Much to Natsuki's relief, no one is here to bother them. Déjà-vu quickly sets in, making Natsuki realise it's just like before: Once again, Viola is by the weapon racks, brushing her fingers along sword pommels. "What happened to the other one?"

"It broke when I stabbed Kiyohime." Viola says without turning to face Natsuki.

This statement, meanwhile, makes Natsuki visibly flinch. The Key Shrine has been a blur of traumatic carnage. All she can remember is the Knight she had killed and Kiyohime's frigid debauchery.

Hadn't the Key even tried to seduce Viola at some point?

Natsuki can only stand there, gaze listless. A hand upon her shoulder spooks her, not having noticed Viola approach her.

"Are you alright?" A new sabre is within the Arcewælcyrge's grip. It is a lustrous argent with a subtle curve. Its handguard elegantly wraps around Viola's hand; perfect in size. "This will make a fine replacement. Do you agree?"

"I'm… yeah." Natsuki mumbles, hesitantly taking the unsheathed blade Viola offers. The hilt even has finger grips. Curiously just below the chappe is the start of tinted engravings. A black rose captures her attention first. Eyes lowering, they follow thorny vines which occasionally entangle fleur de lys. This is clearly not for a standard soldier. "I didn't think a blacksmith would care what a weapon looks like."

"You would be surprised." Viola points to an emblem engraved within the sabre's scabbard. "This here is the signature of Wataru d'Florence. In actuality, this sabre was made for a Florentine officer." Symbolically, it will be the perfect choice of weapon to take with them. It can be a subtle bargaining chip when interacting with problematic residents of Arles. "So, do you like it?"

"Huh, yeah but, shouldn't you be asking permission before taking that?" The sabre is clearly more important than the usual ones. Expecting an answer, Natsuki instead receives a smile which infuriates her. "Vio—"

"—Because this knot—" Viola outstretches her hand, revealing a leather loop hanging from her fingers. Crimson in colour, it is heavily plaited and has an abundance of tassels. "—is mine."

"...What is that thing?" This is the first time Natsuki has seen it.

"Simply put, it is a safety harness." Handing Natsuki the sabre's scabbard, she takes the blade's hilt. Handedly, she then expertly ties the knot around it, making sure it wraps around her hand. "I thought I has lost it long ago." She smiles faintly, seeming to recall something. "Anh had commissioned this knot for me." After several embarrassing accidents, that is.

She will not reveal to Natsuki that she had quite literally thrown her sword during training.

"The knot was with this sabre, meaning it was chosen for me." Who has found her knot and chosen her sabre? She may never know, unfortunately.

That actually seems like a really good idea. Natsuki can't imagine how irritating it must be to lose your weapon on horseback.

"Will you like one made in the future?"

That is a rather sudden question. Natsuki shrugs, offering the woman's scabbard over. She brushes past Viola, heading towards the corner where their equipment has been set aside.

Viola watches after her, feeling rather disappointed. Has Natsuki completely skimmed over what she has just suggested? Didn't she hear her say she wants to commission one just as her Wælcyrge had? Alas, Natsuki has picked up her own blade and stares at it distantly.

Is she remembering the Key Shrine again? Somewhat apprehensively, Viola approaches her.

"Does it get easier? To…" The word can't escape her, it merely refuses to leave her mouth. Natsuki winces, feeling a wave of anxiety hit her. The sheathed blade drops from her grip, the sabre clattering upon the stone tiles on impact. "I-I—"

"Natsuki?"

She doesn't hear the Arcewælcyrge; far too precompanied by her awful flashbacks. Flickers of Kiyohime invade her vision, insinuating ill happenings onto her. I-is this real? Having lost track of her reality, Natsuki flinches upon body warmth wrapping around her.

"Natsuki." The two women are on their knees; Viola embracing Natsuki from behind. "Are you thinking about it again?" Her fledgling Wælcyrge nods stiffly, refusing to look at her. "Nobody blames you for what happened. If anyone did, we would know otherwise, correct?" Viola cups her jaw to guide her eyes to hers. "We are leaving tonight. You can put everything behind you."

Viola… always knows what to say.

"I…" Natsuki sighs. "...When will this end?" She did not need to fully explain herself for Viola to understand.

"It takes time. You will adapt. For myself, it took close to a year to normalise becoming a Wælcyrge. I was in disbelief for the longest time." Viola imparts, guiding Natsuki back to her feet. Once stable, she asks: "Are you able to keep standing?"

A nod.

"Shall we ready ourselves for the journey ahead? I shall help you."

Painstaking minutes later, the two Wælcyrgan have exited the armoury. Geared and clothed within dark cloaks, they approach the Spymaster via the gatehouse. Here the stables are located, and within the sopping Spymaster's grip are a horse's reins.

"Arcewælcyrge, Natsuki." Mahya nods to them. "This here is the 12th Earl of Hallard's horse we received last year." She watches Viola carefully, spotting the whisper of a glare pierce her. "...This stallion is now yours. He is fully broken and has a good temperament."

The horse's body is a gorgeous grey with brown splodges running down his limbs and head. His tail and mane meanwhile, are black. "You should head out, the storm is picking up."

Is this truly a good idea? Natsuki grasps her hood as the rain splatters her head. She looks to Mahya who gives Viola the reins, striding swiftly towards the gatehouse.

"Raise the portcullis, the Arcewælcyrge is leaving!" Mahya orders the guards peering from the gatehouse's window. This commences quickly, and the Spymaster waves them through, getting swiftly drenched in the rain. She can't wait to change out of these clothes and sit by the fireplace…

"Can you lift yourself up?" Viola heaves herself into the saddle without difficulty, looking down at Natsuki.

This is quite the tall horse. The last time Natsuki had even been next to one had been… Gods', when? During her early twenties in the Black Valley? Along Route 66, cowboys would frequently… Realising she has lost track of reality, Natsuki grasps Viola's hand. With great struggle, she eventually got into the saddle behind her.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" The Arcewælcyrge asks, triple-checking that their possessions are attached to the horse correctly.

"My home had horses, but I was never interested in them." Now the motorbikes, that is another story entirely. Scrunching her face, Natsuki winces. Will she ever get used to this smell?

"Hold onto me tightly, else you will fall." Viola expectantly looks at her from behind her shoulder. Feeling arms hesitantly wrap around her, she hums. "Tighter." Upon the faint dig of chestplate against her back, she sets the horse into motion. In reaction he neighed, cantering sideways temporarily.

Natsuki feels the saddle move with the horse. So much so she is sure she'd slip off. Luckily this is not the case and the horse trots towards the gatehouse. "When did you learn how to ride horses?"

"I was forced to do so." Viola receives a stare, but she does not notice it as she guides the horse under the portcullis. "Horses are a necessity for all my expeditions. I am certain you shall learn swiftly as well." They will be alone for several days whilst on the road. Presently is their best bet, mayhaps.

"Ah, Arcewælcyrge." Mahya stops them before they can leave the gatehouse. "Shiro wanted you to have this." She unpockets a small sealed scroll. "It's when you should next expect contact with him. The translation is slow but he's making progress… and Natsuki." She hovers a hand by her brow, blocking the rain. "You did nothing wrong."

Those are the last words Natsuki hears from the Spymaster as Viola kicks the horse. The stallion makes a steady trot through the burned treeline, the forest swiftly enveloping them.

For their first hour together, it is silent. Natsuki happily absorbs their environment—even if it is pouring it down. The horse doesn't seem fazed much either. He occasionally whinnies as they trek past foliage, surprising Natsuki. For such a large beast, he is quite agile.

After a few more quiet minutes, Viola finally speaks: "Our first stop will be by the Garderobe Ruins. Tomorrow we shall follow the coastline."

"Can we go inside? There's a few things I want to see."

The Arcewælcyrge falls silent for a moment, thinking about their options. "The Slaves? What will you do about them?" She gently tugs the reins to their right, directing the stallion around a clump of trees. Skywards she then examines the horizon, picking out stars as they peep through cloud-cover. There is a pack of stars she needs them to follow.

"I survived Wind Cathedral." It is the only response Natsuki can think of. When Viola did not reply quickly, she was about to give up. Rather than disappointment, she surprises her instead.

"Most of the Ruins are off limits, but there are still several buildings we can enter."

Viola is worried. They are still yet to discover why the Slaves were residing there in the first place.

"Huh, really?" Natsuki stares at her back, unable to stop herself feeling faintly giddy. But why will she feel excited? Those ruins are hers. Though… Her brow furrows. "Inside the Memorial is the entrance to the crypt. I want to go there." Perhaps once and for all, she can find out what happened to her… and the others.

"Well…" Viola sighs, knowing how important it is for her. Perhaps for herself, as well. "Alright. But once the first sign of danger approaches, we shall leave."

She is growing soft, isn't she?

The limbs tightening around her waist clearly stated this. Viola momentarily closes her eyes, smiling weakly. "Natsuki."

"What?"

"Do you like salted fish?"


II • CM Mynetdæg of Ærraliða
(The 2nd Day Before-Mild, Coin Day, 900)

"Finally…" Natsuki flops down into the damp grass within the forest clearing.

It is the early morning, and the sun has risen high. Thankfully, it has also stopped raining.

Staring skywards, Natsuki tiredly peers at clouds sluggishly passing her by. Just a few minutes down the slope is the Garderobe Ruins. It's like a dream, but alas, she is so exhausted. Angling her head, she watches as Viola ties the stallion to a nearby tree. "Does he have a name?"

"He does not, no."

That is weird. Why would you not name an animal who could potentially die for you? Natsuki sits upwards, observing as Viola starts unpacking some things from the horse. "What are you looking for?" Maybe they should pick out a name for the stallion?

"The salted fish. I will like to leave it to soak while we sleep." They can't very well eat it as is. "Before consumption, it must be removed of its salt." Viola opens up one of the large poaches at the horse's rear. It is tucked just beneath the tightly wrapped tent and furs. "It will take around twelve hours."

Ah right, Viola had briefly mentioned it earlier.

For the journey they will be surviving off fish and bread.

Oh, how Natsuki misses Earl's food. Natsuki picks herself up; slipping off her damp cloak, the thick fabric drips with excess liquid.

Will she get ill on the road? Hopefully not. Thinking about wellbeing, she has not heard the voices in quite a while.

"Does… soul madness come in bouts?"

"For myself, it sometimes does." Viola finds what she has been looking for; the jug stuffed with salted fish. "I cannot explain why you have not completely lost yourself." Though, Natsuki has always been strong. That and they are both aware of their previous existences. The life of a Wælcyrge has always been perplexing and traumatic.

Now there is hope.

"I'm amazed I haven't ended up in a ditch and died." Natsuki mutters, hanging her cloak on a nearby tree branch with Viola's. She looks at them for a moment, worried they might billow away. "I thought soul madness is always there?"

Natsuki ties both ends of the cloaks loosely together. Now they shouldn't blow away. Hopefully.

"It is always there. The voices come when you least expect it." Viola has shoved the jar into the dirt and is now wandering the clearing. Every so often, she will stoop down to retrieve a stick or branch. "The horse has a cooking pot. Take it to the stream we passed and collect some water. We will need to boil it then leave it to cool before soaking the fish."

Natsuki did as she was told, rounding the horse carefully. She spots the pot easily, the basin tied to the saddle by thin rope. Detaching it, she leisurely strokes the horse's mane. He gently shakes his head in reaction, pushing against her hand.

Huh, he's pretty cute. Before she gets too distracted, she pulls herself away and heads for the treeline.

This morning is cool but not overbearingly chilly.

Though she certainly doesn't appreciate the water-clogged mud. Her boots start sinking into the mushy dirt, causing her to curse. This immediately reminds her of when she inspected the Palace walls. Durandal flashes before her mind's eye, causing her to pause.

No.

She controls him now—it's fine.

Just like how Viola owns Kiyohime.

Unconsciously gripping her Anchor, she stops it from tapping against her breastplate.

Now isn't the time to get lost.

Later, the conical tent is built, the campfire is lit and the water is boiling nicely.

Miraculously, they have even found a dry patch of grass. Staring into the flames, Natsuki thinks back to the past few months. Tons of things have flown by in such short notice.

The realisation of who she is, the insanity of the Shri—catching herself, Natsuki rubs her brow. 'Stop. Thinking.'

"You are overthinking again." Viola flawlessly reads through her, unequipping her belt and frog. Allowing them and her sabre to unceremoniously fall, she sits herself down. Like always, she sits close to the younger Wælcyrge, but holds a respectful distance.

"I know, I know." Natsuki mumbles, feeling at a loss for words. What else can she even say? What is even the point? They both know exactly what is going through her head. Yet… bottling these emotions will not help either of them. "The voices started mentioning something."

"Something?" Viola looks at her.

"Hm… It was the same at the Wind Catacombs. They give me a vision of the… Black Valley, I think?" She hazard a guess, shaking her head faintly. "There is a huge black col—" Suddenly, she cuts herself off. A black column. The voices have specifically called it something like that, right? During her past life she had been the Second Column of Garderobe. Should she be concerned by that bizarre parallel?

"Natsuki?" Viola touches along her upper arm.

"I was… the Second Column. The voices call that pillar the Black Column. Or something like that."

"That is…"

"Worrying?"

"I do not know." Viola edges towards the campfire carefully, inspecting the pot. Steam rises from the bubbling water; it should be ready to cool now. Tapping the back of her fingers across the metal, her confidence lifts upon not being burned. "The coincidence is startling. I do not know whether you should listen to them."

Attentively she hooks her fingers around the pot's handles: Her leather-gauntlets protecting her from the heat. "It can be anything at all." Such as a warning, answer, or even a ploy. "The voices once told me that my Wælcyrge is alive and will return to me."

That's just cruel. Natsuki winces, not really sure how to continue the conversation. Should she? "I'm so tired of not knowing a thing." She flops down into the grass again, staring up into the morning horizon. "I'm exhausted."

She should sleep before she falls ill. Heaving back up onto her feet, Natsuki lumbers towards the conical tent. "I need to sleep."

Stooping down, Natsuki enters the argent tent. Here, two bedrolls are located side by side. Again, the distance is respectful, but she doesn't have the energy to care about the details. If she had, she might've assumed Viola's trying to distance herself.

First she removes her gorget, spaulders and then her rerebraces. Soon afterwards, her belt, frog, sabre and her chestplate are thrown aside as well. They are ditched in the corner as Natsuki then plonks down onto her bed.

She almost forgets to take off her boots, grumbling tiredly as she throws these aside too. Once satisfied, she slithers into bed and rolls onto her side. Here she remains still for a moment, staring at the bright fabric wall.

Ugh, her legs are sore.

The minutes roll by and before Natsuki knows it, she is asleep.

. . .

"Seo slæp ealle binom; of sorge and longaþ.
Þæt ic bi me sylfum, secgan wille,
Ic wæs Wælcyrge.
Columne Blæc curnan,
Oþ Tell Aswad."

Opening her eyes groggily, Natsuki stares at Viola's back.

The voice from before has returned, but this time it speaks in times of yore. 'She's completely sleep deprived… of sorrow and longing… I, for myself, will declare that I was a Wælcyrge. The Black Column comes… To the Black Temple.' An image of a black orb flashes within Natsuki's mind. It floats within the frosty sands of the Black Valley. Then perplexingly, the Wind Catacombs are presented to her.

'What does any of that mean?!'

Ignore it. Pushing herself up from her furs, Natsuki heaves towards the exit. She picks up her boots along the way, not noticing Viola picking her head up tiredly. Where's she going?

Maybe she can clear her head if she has some air? Putting her boots on, she then leaves the tent, heading for the horse. He is lounging by the tree he has been tied to earlier. Squatting by his head, Natsuki warily palms her hand along his neck.

Awoken from his light slumber, the stallion nickers softly. Captured in surprise, Natsuki's hand pauses. Is he happy? She can't tell.

"...What kind of name do you give a horse?"

Viola watches Natsuki from the tent, having decided to follow. Loosely folding her arms around her middle, she faintly tilts her head in observation.

A very old memory sparks; one from aeons ago. It had been when Natsuki had almost crushed a petal within her fist. But this memory forks into two. Of Fuuka Academy and… Garderobe? The latter is incredibly distorted, like a traumatic event her brain erased.

"You belonged to a noble, right? …Why am I even talking to you? You don't understand me…"

"Natsuki."

Peering over her shoulder, Natsuki blinks with mild surprise. Standing to her full height, she turns to face the Arcewælcyrge. As she did so, the stallion nudges against her side. She smiles at him unconsciously, landing a palm upon his forehead.

"Did you sleep well?"

"The voices woke me up."

Viola stares from across the clearing. Yet Natsuki seems so fine? In fact… the younger Wælcyrge is carrying herself differently. She can't explain it nor fathom how she senses it. Natsuki's expression appears harder—somehow more mature. "What did they say?"

"That someone's sleep deprived, full of sorrow and longing. The voice says something about them being a Wælcyrge, and that the Black Column will… return to Tell Aswad?" Natsuki shakes her head, her attention still partially on the stallion. She gently fiddles with his ears, amused when they twitch. "I'm sorry I disturbed you, I wanted fresh air."

Viola's heart rate pounds, but why? It's her confidence, isn't it? She's attracted to it. "I am still…" The words slosh around Viola's tongue, her attention focused upon Natsuki petting the horse. "...Still unsure whether you should listen to it—the voices. When will you like to depart for the Ruins?" She sees Natsuki immediately perk up, and she forces a smile.

"Is something wrong?"

Can she even read her? "No. Far from that, perhaps." Viola turns and heads for the tent, confusing Natsuki who remains by the stallion. "We should pack up the camp and bring the horse. We still do not know what dangers reside here."

. . .

"Min sorg bið geniwad,
Ofer waþema gebind,
Ong hrimcealde sæ,
Hreosan hrim ond snaw,
Hagle gemenged.
Hwæt! Hu Ic geswincdagum,
Eala Wælcyrge!"

"My sorrow is renewed… Over the binding of waves, and along the icy-cold sea of frosty snowfall mixed with hail. Behold! How I often endured. Alas, for the Wælcyrge!" Natsuki recites the words under her breath.

They have packed and are walking the horse down the slope together. Before them is an incredibly overgrown stone wall. "That voice is back. I think it's reading me a poem?" She is completely serious.

"I said you ought to not listen to it."

"I know, but it's hard." Natsuki mutters, stopping before the wall. It is mayhaps half a foot taller than her. Lifting her hands, she digs her feet into cracks and eroded crevices. Heaving upwards, she peers over. The Garderobe Ruins are displayed to her; both familiar and alien. They are at the south-western end of the academy. "We're right by the gates, follow me." Letting go of the wall, she leads Viola around the corner.

A grand but incredibly rusted gate greets them.

One side has fallen off its hinges long ago; its frame entangled with grass and dirt. The other looks as though something has rammed the pickets apart—an Otome? Or something else?

Standing at the entrance, Natsuki absorbs their surroundings. This is all… wrong. In front of them, is the path leading to the Founder's Memorial. The building has all but crumbled—a gigantic hole churned within its side. To their right, is the wrecked pathway leading to the rest of the campus. "I want to go up those steps." She points towards the Memorial. "The Otome Crypt is there."

"Are you wishing to find… us?" Viola asks as they slip through the gate.

"Yeah, I want answers." Maybe seeing everyones' graves will help her?

She waits by the steps as Viola tiee the horse to the tree closest to them. "Are you sure you don't want to help naming him?" Natsuki asks, clearly talking about the stallion.

"I never said I will refuse."

They start climbing the steps; the limestone is worn and rugged. Alongside them, are rows of trees. Natsuki doesn't recognise them. She wonders when they had been planted. They are tall—perhaps several centuries old. "Do people name horses silly things here too?"

"In what context?" The Arcewælcyrge muses, thinking back to names she has heard on Earth. Such illy names, yes… "Because the names from my existence are ridiculous indeed."

Natsuki blinks. "Huh." They finish climbing the steps; their gaze lifting to the collapsed Memorial. The doorway is totally caved in, but the hole on its side offers entry. "I'd like to give him a proper name. He'd be a laughing stock if he is called 'My Ex', or 'Hairy Cheesecake'." She mutters, shaking her head.

Those names are rather… Viola gently chuckles. "I am rather awful with names. I will either name him something overly traditional or cute."

"Hallard the Butterfly?" They stare for a moment, Natsuki shrugging in response.

Viola can only smile faintly, shaking her head. Drawing her sabre, she is the first to enter the Memorial.


"The electricity is still running from last time." Natsuki says quietly as they walk down the crypt hallway. This section is almost flawless. It's surreal; like she never died and is back home with Shizuru. But… isn't she? Within the dim emerald light, Natsuki glances at Viola. She doesn't recognise this place at all. "Have you been in this section before?"

"Once. Long ago."

A time she wishes not to speak of. The Arcewælcyrge's eyes spot a familiar forename or two. Though, whether these people are ones she has also known, isn't clear. "Which area are you searching for?"

"The Headmistress' Passageway. I should have a memorial here somewhere." They turn a bend, the glass headstones becoming much taller. This is it.

Hunkering down, Natsuki raises her hand to brush her fingers along a grave's golden plaque. 'Here lies the forty-first Headmistress of Garderobe. Natsuki Kruger of Kugaland, Aries Republic. 304-332.'

"...Assassinated in a terrorist attack by Altain spies. Why am I not surprised?" Anger flares within Natsuki. After all of the negotiations she had filed? A hand upon her shoulder however, silenced that animosity.

"Natsuki, look." Viola points to the memorial beside hers, making Natsuki's heart stop.

'Here lies the forty-eighth Archmeister of Garderobe. Shizuru Viola-Tokiha of the Windbloom Kingdom. 303-395. Died from natural causes.' Wait… Natsuki's eyes jump back to Shizuru's name. She married—her lips gape open slightly, before tears well within her eyes. Oh, she…

"Thank God…" She mumbles, rubbing her eyes hard. Ever since remembering her past, Natsuki has dreaded that Shizuru had done something awful. Instead, she has managed to move on, and with Mai. A little hesitantly, her eyes moved to the final memorial. 'Here lies the forty-second Headmistress of Garderobe. Princess Mai Tokiha-Viola of the Zipang Empire. 305-395. Died from natural causes.' They died in the same year too… Mai had even become the Headmistress!

"Are you sad?"

"No… I'm relieved." Standing back up, Natsuki rubs her eyes again. "There's one more place I'd like to go. It's on the surface up the hill."

Viola nods quietly, giving the three memorials a final look before following her out.

The journey outside is silent, much like the campus. She wonders how Natsuki is feeling; what memories are being sparked by this? Are they stressful? Had her Earl existence been a happy one?

Viola thinks back to her own; her's is interweaved by bloodshed and hatred. Of a yearning desire which hadn't been accepted. But… Natsuki remembers rejecting her and hasn't pushed her away. They have even kissed. Multiple times now.

Nevertheless, she can not gauge what their relationship is. Maybe this uncertainty is why she's been trying to distance herself lately? Natsuki walks in front, giving her the urge to reach out to her. Yet, she can not dare.

"Oh, wow…" Natsuki stops abruptly, causing Viola to nearly bump into her. "The office has a tree growing through it?" She picked up her pace, power-walking up the steep pathway. So much so, Viola almost has difficulty keeping up.

"This building was my office and personal quarters. She stops midway, waiting for the Arcewælcyrge almost impatiently. "I want to go inside just once. To… you know, relive it, I guess?"

"Natsuki, wait." The younger Wælcyrge's excitement dies down, falling quiet as Viola halts beside her. "Tomoe and I recorded this building, but we never entered it. I will go inside first and make sure it is safe."

"Ah, alright?"

Twisting her sabre's knot around her hand, she draws the sword afterwards. Keeping it by her side, Viola cautiously edges towards the door. Miraculously, it has not rotted from its hinges. Hesitantly, she extends her free arm, pressing her fingers against it.

The door groans open, making her ears twitch. That's… not what she has hoped for.

Inside the hallway, it is awfully quiet. It seems that there's no power in this building. Perhaps it is for the better?

Down the eroded hallway, there's two doors. One is sealed, the others are double. Choosing the latter first, Viola creeps towards them. Like the front door, she repeats the action here; one of the barriers opening silently this time.

Shattered windows, overturned furniture, mouldy walls, plants and a hefty oak tree greets her. Bygone emotions hit her; ones she doesn't recognise, whilst others she does. Inside here, she experiences comfort, sadness, happiness, anger… the list continues.

Rounding the tree sprouting from the floor, she approaches the windows.

Overlooking the campus, Viola spots their horse. He is still where she has left him, by the Memorial's steps. Wandering her eyes to the right, she also catches sight of Natsuki who is sitting on the pathway's wall.

Devastated sites certainly aren't new in these lands, but knowing she is connected to this one feels foreboding.

Giving this room a final sweep of her eyes, she departs for the quarters. Viola stalls at the sealed door, suddenly feeling unsure. This is a domain that belongs to Natsuki—and assumedly herself. Grasping the handle with her free hand, something mentally clicks as it swings open.

Before her, a vision from aeons past bombards her.

"Shizuru! The Grandmeister just appointed me as Headmistress! I really did pass!" A jacketed Natsuki leaps into her past-self's arms excitedly. The quarters are pristine—the outer wall made completely out of windows. Though, the huge chamber is oddly sparse of furniture. "I need to call my mother before the media—"

The vision fades, leaving a dilapidated room. What… had that been? All Viola can do is drift inside, standing where her previous self had by the windows.

The treeline surrounding the academy stretches on for miles. Within the horizon, a distant mountain range can be witnessed. Skywards, the clouds are stained a deep grey.

It shall rain soon.

She is mystifyingly similar to these ruins: Fragments of ancient memories pieced together within her head. Alike a time capsule, one can say.

…What in Gods' name is this place?

"Ic hwile wæs seesolwédan,

We sigewang."

I was soul-maddened for a while,

We will overcome it.


A/N: I have no idea how, but I managed to finish this chapter tonight. Not only did I type up three-thousand words, but I also edited it. Usually I can only write around five-hundred words per day for Cyne Wælcyrge due to its complexity. Anyway, we've hit a major turning point in the story now. A lot of dynamics will be changing around. This includes introducing new characters and having Natsuki mature more.

Armour Terminology

Hood (padded hood)
Sallet (the one which Natsuki wears doesn't cover the mouth or jaw)
Armet (full helmet with poor vision, Viola's visor includes a rivet)
Oculariums (helmet eye holes)
Bevor (jaw)
Gorget (neck)
Spaulders (small shoulder armour)
Pauldrons (large shoulder armour)
Rondels (the plates that attach the spaulders/pauldrons to the chestplate, can sometimes appear on elbows)
Gambeson (under-tunic)
Chestplate/Breastplate
Cuirass (this is both the breastplate and backpiece)
Tassets (waist)
Rerebraces (upper arms)
Couters (elbows)
Vambraces (forearms)
Gauntlets (gloves)
Under-trousers
Cuisses (thighs)
Poleyns (knees)
Greaves (shins)
Sollerets (feet)
Spurs (shoe stars used for horse riding)

Sword Terminology

Pommel (usually a bump that attaches the hilt and handguard together)
Hilt (handle; sometimes called a grip)
Handguard (comes in many styles to protect the hand/s. Not all swords have these)
Crossguard (like the handguard, except it helps to parry attacks)
Parrying Hooks (the spikes you sometimes see on claymores)
Chappe (the band that helps keep the blade and hilt joined)
Forte (upper-blade, strongest point)
Fuller (inner-ridge of the blade)
Foible (lower-blade, weakest point)
Point (sometimes calls the tip, end of the blade)