Chapter Restructured & Expanded: 05-05-23.
CHAPTER XIX
Æðelflæd (Noble Beauty)
II • CM Mynetdæg of Ærraliða
(The 2nd Day Before-Mild, Coin Day, 900)
"Ugh… I'm soaked." Water drips everywhere from off of Natsuki as they enter the cave.
The moment they had departed from the Garderobe Ruins, a storm started brewing instantaneously. Now it is torrential rain, and it is doubtful it will stop any time soon.
Sitting herself down on a large boulder, Natsuki sighs. She is exhausted!
Viola is next to enter, unsurely guiding the horse inside. He is as tired as they are—perhaps more. This year's flooding season is terrible. Worse, it is endangering their journey far too much. Who knows how much it has delayed their travelling?
"...We are half a day from the Galleria Sound." Where should she tie this stallion? There isn't really anywhere suitable within this cave. But she doesn't feel comfortable leaving him outside. Perhaps the rear of the cave will suffice the best? It isn't too deep down that way.
"This is taking forever." Natsuki laments, bunching up her hair to squeeze out excess water. This is pointless because a puddle is already forming at her feet. Another sigh escapes her.
Gods', she's exhausted!
Her entire body is numb and a headache's starting to form. Furthermore, this rock alone will be good enough to sleep upon. Natsuki very nearly nods off at this moment.
"Natsuki?" Viola's gaze sweeps to the Wælcyrge as her statement isn't acknowledged. Oh. A smile creeps across her lips at the sight. Natsuki's head is bowed; clearly half awake. She can't blame her. She herself feels awful.
Tiredly stepping away from the stallion, he immediately lounges down upon the floor. Viola quietly approaches Natsuki afterwards, repeating her name much softer than before: "Natsuki?" She delicately touches along her forearm, tempting her away from slumber.
"H-hm…?" Natsuki haphazardly lifts her head, glazed eyes staring through her momentarily.
"You must help me set up the bedrolls at least."
Ugh. Natsuki's face scrunches up in apprehension, but she heaves to her feet. Plodding on after Viola, they return to the horse.
But hang on for a second. Natsuki pauses, causing Viola to look at her expectantly. They're soaking wet! Surely their bedrolls will be as well? Pincering her shirt's hem, she winces at its soddenness. Viola is just as bad; brunette hair matted down and darker than usual.
"I am afraid we shall require our things to dry before we sleep."
At this rate, Natsuki doesn't care, stars plunging into her vision.
Scene Theme: Taishi — Cold Ruins & White Flame.
…What? Where is she?
A vast but familiar desert surrounds Natsuki for miles. It is totally flat—not a dune or mountain within sight. Wait… This is the same place where she witnessed that black pillar collapsing. Hadn't Viola also described such a place as this before?
An unsettling sense of déjà vu swiftly sets in as Natsuki gets her bearings.
This is the Black Valley, or… is it?
…Hadn't she just been standing with Viola not seconds prior?
Lifting a foot with uncertainty, she treds forward. Natsuki's boot sinks within the freezing sands, and an unbearable unease thrives inside her.
More than once she has been here, it is obvious now.
Is it the same Black Valley from her past existence? Though, how can she possibly know this? Natsuki can't fathom why she is convinced and this terrifies her.
Skywards she peers; gazing towards not just the Sun, but the Moon as well.
Beside the astral satellite is something impossible—two HiME stars. Natsuki stares at them uncomfortably, unable to process what she is witnessing. Then, back to the sands she looks, raising her foot. The grains of sand settle back into its print.
It is as though she has never been here.
Within Wælhaell time does not exist.
Or rather, is time jumbled up into a twisting mess?
A rumbling squawk resounds across the Black Valley, causing her to freeze in panic. What is that noise? Her gaze flies zenith. Here, a great crow pierces the horizon.
Yatagarasu.
The Key dive-bombs at her, creating a sonic pulse.
Within her surroundings, sand is blasted into the air. Blinded, Natsuki's only hope is to draw her sabre. Her free arm covers her eyes on instinct, but before her isn't Yatagarasu. Metal blades clashing, they make her stare aghast at her new assailant who is just as shocked. The Key is gone, and within its place is…
Anh Lu.
She is dressed similarly to Viola except her jacket is cyan with golden borders. Shocked violets soon harden in realisation, the Wælcyrge whirling around. As she does so, her broadsword's lavender knot whips around with her.
"Quickly! Look to the skies! Yatagarasu is still here!"
Sure enough, the Key is.
Natsuki's vision suddenly flashes back as she sets her sights upon him: This same woman flies within the sky above Garderobe. Before her is Viola—both within Otome Robes. Abruptly, Anh apprehends Viola, piercing her within the heart with her Element.
Just in time, Natsuki leaps out of the way from Yatagarasu lunging at her. W-what? Has she just witnessed one of Viola's other deaths? Scrambling up from the ground, she spits and splutters. Sand has gotten into her mouth…—
"—Move!"
Bygone training from her past existence activates within Natsuki.
Sabre lying within the sand, she ignores it. Palms within the sand, she instead leaps backwards. Just in time, because Yatagarasu's beak rams into the spot she had been by inches.
As she does so, Anh bounds in close, swinging her broadsword at his face.
A squall emits from the monster's gullet, his wings aggressively flapping. Both Wælcyrgan are blasted and stunned in place by the titanic strength. How can they possibly—
"—Do you have an Anchor?!" Anh's voice barely reaches Natsuki above the roar.
A-ah, but Durandal's—clearly Natsuki has no choice. Heart hammering, nerves wrecked and adrenaline afire, she rips the Anchor from her neck. Bits of broken chain are propelled backwards in the tempest by the Key. The Heart of Transmission glows a crimson aura, causing Yatagarasu to throw his head backwards.
He somehow hates this Anchor, doesn't he? Natsuki quickly eyes the crystal within her fist, outstretching it before herself. Red particles flood around her like a shield before spiralling upwards.
Anh can only watch on in awe as Yatagarasu screams out in anguish. It is almost as if he's in pain? Leaping at the chance, the Wælcyrge grasps her broadsword's hilt tightly. Both hands positioned by her side, she charges the Key, thrusting the blade within the great crow's side.
Blood ruptures from between obsidian feathers, showering around and onto the Wælcyrgan disgustingly. Before their eyes, Yatagarasu disintegrates from this astral plane.
Natsuki, about to breathe a relieved sigh, is intercepted by Anh who seizes her shoulder. "Listen to me, you are a Wælcyrge, yes?"
"Y-yeah—" Natsuki's gaze unconsciously lowers to Anh's sword, its blade drenched with the Key's blood. The liquid drips into the sand, only to be erased moments later. The rest leaves the blade like falling silk, making the broadsword look pristine. As does the rest which graces her body, vanishing as though it never existed. How did…? Natsuki speechlessly observes their surroundings. They are flawless once more.
"—Ever since I came to this place, I have been killing Keys repeatedly. Yatagarasu is not dead. Only you can kill him. I know Shizuru's alive because Kiyohime has not returned. Durandal no longer comes here either. Is he yours?"
Huh? Is the Black Valley some kind of soul vacuum? "Yeah, I—" She pauses, her mind stalling as Anh stares at her expectantly. Viridian rose to violet. "I'm Vi—Shizuru's Ánhere. Well, Wælcyrge, now." She watches a flicker of emotion pass the elder's face before hardening.
"She still has Kiyohime and I have Durandal now. Look, she went soul mad but recovered from it." This time, Anh's expression shifts entirely into shock. "The voices told her you are still alive and will return one day. Are you… dead…?" She asks her rather hesitantly.
The Wælcyrge releases her grip from Natsuki and turns. Kneeling, she retrieves Natsuki's sabre within her free hand. "...I do not know."
What does she mean she doesn't know? Natsuki stares at her, watching as Anh's gaze rises skywards.
"I have been here for a long time. Tell me two things…" She looks to Natsuki behind her shoulder. "There was a force preventing me from staying at her side. She was dying from mortal wounds. Is this when she was soul mad?"
Natsuki's lips part in reaction. When she…? Natsuki thinks back to when Viola awoke from her Psychic Coma. She had revealed very little of that nightmare to Natsuki. "What happened?"
She hasn't told her? Anh exchanged a look of confusion with Natsuki. Is she lying? No… There isn't any sign of deceit upon her face. "There is a dark entity that controls this realm. Usually it is a woman. Sometimes other things such as a—"
"—The Dark Whisperer? She was a mess when she awoke." Natsuki imparts "I think she mentioned you appeared, but didn't know if it was you."
So that's what that entity is called… "How long have I been gone?"
Natsuki shrugs. "Three-four years?"
How is that possible? Anh's head shakes slowly in disbelief. Standing to her full height, she approaches Natsuki and offers her the sabre. "Do not tell Shizuru about this. Allowing her to hope I might return might destroy her. Make sure she believes I am dead."
"But… what will you do here?"
Anh only smiles unemotionally. "I suppose I'll continue doing what I've always been good at—destroying lives."
As this is spoken, Natsuki herself is about to speak but alas, for their environment begins morphing. "How did you get here—"
. . .
Natsuki's eyes snap open and she is greeted by darkness. This isn't all. She is resting against something warm and soft.
As her eyes start adapting, Natsuki catches sight of Viola looming above her. It turns out she has Natsuki's head in her lap and has dozed off.
What time is it? Natsuki's gaze flees to the cave entrance. Deep into the night, it seems apparent, for the Sun has long since set. "Viola?" She calls out, slowly pushing up and away from the Wælcyrge. Scooting to sit beside her against the wall, Natsuki rubs her face.
What is she going to do? She has just met Anh Lu. Viola's dead Wælcyrge, no less. Worse, she doesn't want Viola to know they have spoken. Should she truly be keeping this away from her?
Natsuki studies the Arcewælcyrge who stirs, tiredly blinking in the darkness. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Me too, it would seem…" Viola says, her eyes also moving to the cave entrance. Apparently they have slept a portion of the night away already. Easing upwards, she heads for the sleeping stallion. Or, attempts to, for she is hindered by Natsuki's grip against her wrist.
"Let me do it." Natsuki stands up and goes towards the horse instead.
Viola can only watch her rather stunned. Silently she can only observe as Natsuki carefully removes the wrapped bedrolls from the nameless horse. As they are removed, Viola tries to help, but is ushered away.
"No, stop it. I'm doing it."
Where has this mood come from? Either way, the Arcewælcyrge shadows Natsuki, watching her lay down the bedrolls and check their dryness.
"This one seems fine… this one's damp still."
Frankly, Natsuki doesn't care if one is only suitable to sleep in. Yawning, she wafts a hand at the Wælcyrge. "We're sharing, I guess." She tiredly eyes Viola who is stuck in place. "...You know, my Shizuru would've jumped at the chance if I had told her this." She says dryly.
"I—" That is very true for her past self as well. Viola breaks her train of thought by force. The scenarios which have rushed within her head have completely confused her. Clearly. "Are you sure?"
"If I wasn't I wouldn't be asking you." Natsuki stares at Viola blankly. That and she wants to hurry up and get warm. Potentially being on the cusp of sickness isn't her ideal plan.
Kicking off her boots, she leaves them beside the bedrolls. Changing her mind abruptly, she instead turns them upside down. Maybe they will dry better like this…?
"My past self certainly would not complain, no." Perhaps neither her current existence, either. Viola halts at that thought, a faint frown marring her brow. What are her feelings, anyway?
Ah yes, there is the vagueness of her Shizuru too. Natsuki suspects that this subtle remark has more weight behind it. Did she like that? She is uncertain. Nevertheless, as Natsuki removes her soggy jacket, her heart starts racing.
Anh is to blame for this, isn't she? Being thrown into the Black Valley—or wherever that has been, has unlocked something. She… no, she refuses to think about it.
Yet…
She touches along the fur blanket before her. No, it's dry. This will do.
Without another word, she scrambles inside. Alas, her heart is nary calming at all. In fact, as Viola cautiously edges closer, the twisting of her insides increases tenfold.
Languidly, Viola crawls above her so her palms ground yonside Natsuki. The younger Wælcyrge shuffles back, staring up at her in confusion. W-what is she doing? As she dips closer, Natsuki tilts her head away, making Viola pause. Fingers entangling into the blanket below, the atmosphere sets alight.
"W-what are you doing?"
"I—" Truly Viola does not know.
III • CM Bæþdæg of Ærraliða
(The 3rd Day Before-Mild, Bath Day, 900)
One day later, the mounted pair are finally at the Galleria Sound.
The stallion they are sitting upon is positioned by the white cliffs that tower above the sea. Downwards, the azure waves clash against rocks which are both jagged and eroded. The sea stretches on for miles—or aeons to the naked eye.
"To our north-west is Galleria." Viola points towards the vast open plain of fields. To their far right at the cliff's furthest point, is Arles. It is guarded by the Rosalie Dyke, a handmade militarised barrage fortified by palisade walls.
It is the longest munition in the Kingdom—perhaps even the continent. It is to be expected as such. Afterall, Windbloom and Florence have fought for so long.
Natsuki, who has nary slept an hour, wearily looks to where Viola directs. Within these evergreen lands, trees are a sparsity. Crumbling dry-stone walls of yore instead litter the environment; entangling across the landscape like veins. Centuries—if not millennia—of tales could be housed within these rocks, and neither Wælcyrgan knew a thing.
Wildflowers and shrubs occupy the spaces between these walls. But what captures Natsuki's attention is the roses. There are so many of them… are they an invasive species for these other flowers?
But nevertheless, this is, Natsuki realises, a perfectly protected region.
The enemy can not attack by sea nor land sieges: The dry-stone walls in reality are their only defence. A vindication which will be severed by the Rosalie Dyke, nevermind the trek upwards to Arles. This is nothing like Guadeloupe!
This first impression is flawless.
"Where is the Florentine border?" Natsuki asks.
"The palisades over there." Viola points them out. "This is called the Rosalie Dyke, named after one of the Rose Queens of Florence." She draws her arm forward, fingers following the fortification which loops around Arles. "The border follows it. Arles is technically within no man's land. Due to this, squirmishes for its capture have always taken place."
One of the Rose Queens? Natsuki quirks a brow at this.
To the unaware, it seems to be such an insignificant location. Its placement is pristine. The border here is crammed between the Galleria Sound, Florence and the recently annexed Galleria. Now Natsuki understands why they have been sent here. "So like neutral territory?"
"Yes." Viola does not turn to regard her, watching an immense flock of sheep within the distance. "There are very few places like this."
"It's like the case when I was last alive." Natsuki murmurs, having not noticed the slothfully approaching herd yet.
She instead focuses upon the crashing sea hundreds of feet below them. "Garderobe was a neutral organisation, so we hosted a lot of peace negotiations. Not that it helped my mental health any." She grumbles the latter half under her breath, fingers gently brushing through the stallion's hair. Suddenly she recognises something else: Back then she had terrible back pain due to immense office work.
Though she does suppose it helps having a "younger" body? As Kuga she was… what age again? Still, is this truly her… er, "newer" one? "You said I was seventeen when I died? What if my body is from my previous life?" The question leaves her lips before she can stop it.
Has Viola heard her correctly? Attention turning from the sheep, the Wælcyrge is unsure how to respond. That isn't a question she can honestly answer. "I… I do not quite know." Not to mention, she had somehow leapt in time after killing Natsuki.
Viola is yet to receive an answer as to why this happened. Unless it is the Dark Whisperer's intention to manipulate her? But how? Sanada surely hadn't known about her before they had fought? Lest… Falling into thought, she remembers her crazed words: 'You have ceased to exist by arrow and bullet: By organ you have been vanquished into maddened torment by crystalline whispers. You have wrought your own death, been petrified to a husk, and held your assassinated lover within your arms. Still your gaest crumbles before His undying presence as you stumble into neurasthenia; your student's burning affections being crushed under foot. Yet still, still the casus of your mind remains corrupt!'
Crystalline whispers… that's her Anchor and soul madness, isn't it? But what had she meant by her mind remaining corrupt? Viola grasps her Anchor that jingles against her breastplate. Sanada had somehow predicted her death by arrow as well: The Dark Whisperer had murdered her this way.
Next, a bygone memory flashed within her mind of something unbearable. Viola is positioned by an argent limousine charred by flames. She loomed over a dead Otome; the Meister having been impaled in the gut and smouldered. That Meister Otome had been Natsuki... The grave she had bore witness to last night has been her own.
The revelation hits Viola harder than she could have ever realised.
Viola's deep in thought. Natsuki watches as she slouches, wondering what could possibly be on her mind. Even now Natsuki herself can't remember the previous life Viola describes. There are only confusing fragments all over the place: Most of which being from that HiME Carnival.
"During the Carnival, I killed you when you were seventeen. As my Headmistress you were assassinated at twenty-eight." The further Viola explains, the quieter her voice becomes until it is a mere whisper. Silence sweeps across the two Wælcyrgan; only the sound of crashing waves and wind greeting them.
So there's an eleven year difference between her deaths? Natsuki can vaguely remember this from the grave plague.
Natsuki muses, but soon understands there is something genuinely wrong. "Viola?" Edging closer, she leans sideways within the saddle to regard her. When she doesn't receive an answer from her, Natsuki's concern starts rising. "Vio—"
"—Sorry." The Wælcyrge speaks quietly. "I…I remembered something awful from that time."
"What is it?"
Should she tell Natsuki? A foreboding sensation crawls across Viola's psyche. She only has two memories from that time: Of Natsuki getting blown up and her excitedly declaring her Columnhood. On one hand, it can help them reconnect their memories. The other…? Mayhaps it will simply cause them further harm? "...Would you feel comfortable if I told you I just witnessed something tragic? A thing so terrible it will be unfair to not tell you?"
As disquieted as Natsuki is, she is curious. It is nice that Viola is being more open with her lately. Though, she herself… Natsuki winces with mild guilt. Anh's words are still fresh in her mind. How can she keep such a secret from the Arcewælcyrge? "Tell me." She forces the words to release from her throat; the syllables feeling unnatural around her tongue.
"Your grave states you were assassinated, do you remember that?" No answer sounds behind her, but Viola continues, sights on anything but the woman behind her. "When…" She exhales a breath of mental preparation. "...Sanada killed me during the Carnival, she said: 'You have ceased to exist by arrow and bullet: By organ you have been vanquished into maddened torment by crystalline whispers. You have wrought your own death, been petrified to a husk, and holds your assassinated lover within your arms.'"
Natsuki slowly absorbs the information behind her. Some of those scenarios she immediately recognises, while others are vaguely familiar. What's… Natsuki's lips part as her brain starts linking the pieces together.
"She killed me with an arrow to the heart. In this life I recovered from Soul Madness…and…" Viola stops.
"...Altai had been trying to assassinate me for years." The breeze picks up, causing Natsuki to brush her hair from her eyes. "I guess they finally got lucky. I recently remembered that I got killed in that explosion." What in the Gods' names is Viola thinking? She can scarcely imagine. "Viola, are… you alright?" Natsuki hesitantly rests her hand upon the Arcewælcyrge's chilled backpiece.
"I… mh, n—"
"Hé! Excusez-moi messieurs?" A distant, masculine voice causes them to turn their attention towards the fields. There, a farmer is trotting his horse towards them. "Faites-vous partie de la Garde?"
What. Natsuki blankly stares at him, having understood not a single word. Instead, she notices Viola's demeanour has shifted, like she hasn't been upset at all.
"Je parle peu Florentin." Viola speaks rather slowly, as if uncertain of the words she has chosen to speak. "Je serai—la Garde."
"Il y a un corbeau géant qui tue notre bétail. Vous devriez vous diriger vers Arles." He makes motions towards the huge herd of sheep being led by his dogs. "Vous me comprenez?"
"Un grand corbeau?"
"Oui!" He smiles widely, pointing towards Arles past the Rosalie Dyke. With this, he departs, leading several sheep with him who have escaped his dogs.
"You can speak Florentine?" Natsuki angles against the saddle again to get a look at Viola. She doesn't seem depressed at all now.
"Very little." Viola chuckles with no humour, tightening her hands against the horse's reins. She guides him towards the Rosalie Dyke at last.
"What did he want?"
"He thought we were men."
Wait, what? "You're serious?"
"Gender in Florence can be rather hazy compared to Windbloom's." Evidently. "It seems Yatagarasu has been spotted in this region. I think he wants us to join the Guard and remove him." Luckily for him, they are joining the Guard, and in more ways than one.
"...Never thought I'd be mistaken for a man." Natsuki shakes her head slightly, unsure whether to feel flattered, amused or offended. She peers down to her chestplate, grazing her thumb along the metal. She supposes it is fair he mistook them at his distance. Plate armour conceals the feminine body very well indeed. "Are you sure you're fine?"
"I am already." The Arcewælcyrge responds too quickly for Natsuki to believe her. "Natsuki." She looks over her shoulder momentarily, attention swiftly returning to the horse. She is guiding him alongside the dyke, heading for the palisade gate. "We are in dangerous waters here. In Arles, you must follow my lead."
They can't afford to show any signs of weakness. After all, the citizens of Arles are potentially their enemies.
Natsuki only hums in response, the two falling into silence once again. Though they have arrived in Arles, the trek is still a ways to go. Instead, Natsuki looks towards the rough sea, wonderment taking over abruptly.
That voice which had mentioned a binding and frosty sea; is this it? Who on Earl owns that voice, anyway?
Exhaustion sets in for Natsuki. Sighing, she presses her brow to the Arcewælcyrge's armoured back. She cares little that she is jostled by the horse's movement. All at once, she feels she can sleep for aeons. Travelling has never quite suited her. Even when she had been Garderobe's Headmistress.
Before her, Viola can only tiredly smile at the sudden change in attitude. Having Natsuki feeling so comfortable around her does wonders. It is a shame she cannot allow her to doze for long. Looping Natsuki's arm around herself securely, she finalises their long journey.
"Have you woken up some?" They are now at the township's communal stables, at the far end where it is private.
The roses outside Arles' walls are a scarcity compared to inside. If there is space, they grow there. They are even beginning to encroach upon the cobblestone pathways!
Viola stands her ground, discreetly studying anyone who happens to be nearby. Yet her gaze wanders to these flowers in distraction. There's simply so many of them…!
Viola shakes herself out of it.
She had been told by Mahya that someone from the Palace will meet them here. Problem is, when is that?
"A little." Natsuki mutters, sitting slouched atop a haystack which their horse grazes from.
Arles is much like southern Windbloom except ragged and hilly.
Her legs are aching awfully thanks to the trip, nor is the terrain helping any. "Who are we supposed to be waiting for, anyway?" They have been idle here for around a quarter of an hour already.
"A Palace agent. They should have been notified we had arrived when we booked the horse in."
"Well I wish they'd hurry up, I would sleep here at this rate."
Natsuki's request is surprisingly accomplished as three armoured figures enter the fenced perimetre. They survey their surroundings, before one points towards them.
Immediately the Key Shrines plunge within Natsuki's mind. They look so similar to the man she has cut down—
"—Natsuki?" Viola whispers, noticing her distress. Her gaze rises to the Knights, instantly realising what has spooked Natsuki. The armour is identical to the sets which Guadeloupe use.
I-I'm fine." Natsuki insists, though this is aimed solely at herself. This is ridiculous—stupid, even—why now of all times? Squeezing her eyes shut, Natsuki berates herself as the flashback attacks her senses. They only look like him. The hand upon her shoulder forces her to deal with the situation at present.
They cannot display weakness.
"Good morning. We have reports that you arrived from Windbloom?"
Though this person is fully armoured, Natsuki immediately knows her. It's Laura! At Garderobe they had been in the same year and had been close friends. Distraught, she has to quite literally restrain herself from jumping up and embracing her.
Laura, through her armet's visor, peers at her parchment notes. It is clear she does not know them.
This fact deflates Natsuki's mood substantially. Yet… Through the armet's narrow ocularium, Natsuki catches Laura stealing glances at Viola's blade. Is something wrong with it?
"Yes. I am Arcewælcyrge Viola—" She introduces herself, turning to face the three apparent Knights. "—and this—" She motions a hand towards Natsuki who hesitantly stands. "—is Wælcyrge Kruger."
'Kruger?' Natsuki looks at her. Is she using that name because Natsuki is more familiar with that carnation? Something within her clicks, making her heart swell. That's… oh…
"Shizuru and Natsuki, right?" Receiving a nod from both women, Laura signals the two Knights towards their horse. "We will care for your horse while you settle in. He will be delivered to your villa tonight."
'Our villa?' Natsuki tails Viola as Laura gestures for them to follow her. She glares at the cobblestones underfoot: Attempting to block the Key Shrines from her flayed mind. I-ts… not really working…
"I am Arles' Captain of the Guard. I was stationed here last year right after the Pauper's Revolt. Presently we're on the alert as a monster has been hounding our livestock." They travel along the town's main road leading up a steep hill. "As such, there's increasing unrest among the public. I'm getting worried they will soon rebel against the Guard." Will there be a repeat of the previous unrest?
"What of our duties? It is mentioned that defence and training will be involved?" Viola asks as she surveys their surroundings. Every building is made with dry-stone; the same that those walls outside are created from. She will not be surprised if those snaking walls have been cannibalised for resources.
Here too is an overabundance of roses.
"Yeah, you heard right." Laura motions them down an alleyway next, having them climb tall steps. "This route takes you to the church district, but I don't recommend coming here at night."
Why is that? As Natsuki tiredly lumbers up the steps, her foot pauses upon the top. Before her is a millennia-old church. It is of dry-stone like the rest of town, but has a crown spire. These of which are hollow within their centre and decorated with spiny stones.
Something wrong radiates from this place. The feeling slithers within her mind; like spiders running along her skin. It's nothing. She is just spooked… right?
"This is Chapelle Sainte Fran d'Arles. It acts as the town's orphanage and hospital." They turn the step's corner, heading further uphill from the holy site.
The backstreets are claustrophobic—the balconies so close they can be hopped between.
Natsuki's gaze motions to every house they pass. It is awfully quiet and lacking life. Why is that? Is it because of Yatagarasu's so-called attacks or something different? "...Where is everyone?"
"During the afternoons there is curfew. The recent attacks have made it too dangerous to risk anything." Laura explains as she guides them out of the backstreets. They are now trekking ever uphill, a cluster of bigger buildings falling into sight. "This is where you will be staying."
Each villa is comfortably spaced out and overlooks the Galleria Sound. Around these houses are also tall walls that defend from prying eyes.
Laura approaches the double gate, taking a keychain from her belt. Finding the correct key, she slots it within the lock. "I'll pass over the keys in a moment. The gate and villa has two sets to prevent break-ins." At least the petty crime in Arles is relatively low.
The gate creaks open obnoxiously, as though it is determined to announce their presence. The Knight gives it no heed, instead unlocking the villa's front door. "I will call in by noon tomorrow." With this, Laura offers Viola the keys and departs.
Now that they are left to their own devices, the Wælcyrgan look to each other.
"Where's the beds?" Natsuki sighs, brushing past Viola to enter first. She hadn't appreciated the abrupt flashback, but she is too exhausted to lament.
Inside the foyer is a sitting area with a small table. Beside it is a door similar to the one she has entered from. Does that lead behind the villa? To the left is a hallway with more rooms.
"I will sleep well, I think." Viola gingerly seals the door shut, surveying the room curiously.
The floor is completely tiled with various patterns for decoration. It is neither too dull nor extravagant. The walls meanwhile are plastered in a light argent. How strange… Their surroundings and the dry-stone are clearly of Wind descent, but this interior is Remus-esque.
It isn't necessarily a bad blend—merely an interesting choice.
Her eyes next capture sight of a note upon the table. Taking it, she hums as she reads.
After a few minutes of reading, Viola's gaze picks up. "...Natsuki?" Placing the parchment down, she wanders down the hall Natsuki has gone to. Opening every door, she peers inside each. Storage… kitchen… and a bathing chamber of surprising size. The final door is ajar. Fingertips touching it, she pushes it gently open. "Nats—"
Here there are two beds. Natsuki sits upon the one by the crowned-glass window. Half her armour is haphazardly scattered on the mattress: Has she fallen asleep sitting up?
Edging forward, Viola apprehensively stretches an arm towards her. Her hand pauses inches from the Wælcyrge's shoulder, until retreating away. "Are you awake?"
"Sorta." The indecisive hand locks upon Natsuki's shoulder before scaling down her arm. Looking to the limb, Natsuki transfers her gaze to Viola quizzically. Moment's later, her lips twitched with strain; head limping downwards. "I…" Natsuki growls in beration at herself, sliding a palm against her face.
"Do you need help?" So far Natsuki has only removed her gorget, sabre, frog and belt. Instead, she receives nary a word. "Natsuki?" Viola calls her name, sitting beside her. The Wælcyrge has gone incredibly pale—like she has seen a ghost.
"I keep seeing him." Natsuki says vaguely, but her Arcewælcyrge already knows who that 'him' is. "I just… I wish I could forget it." Like so many other things. "The voices whisper such complete rubbish… They even…"
"They what, Natsuki?" Viola watches her every move, wishing she could just touch her. Alas… that could very nearly spell ruin to their delicate relationship.
"It's like my anxiety but somehow worse." She tries explaining, causing Viola to slowly nod. "They spout lies, promise the impossible… I've lost count how many visions I've had. Are any of them even real?" Clear frustration is forming within her tone, becoming more apprehensive. "I-I don't know how to deal with it. Sometimes the voices appear as Durandal and—" A cool hand upon her jaw silences any semblance of worry. Why… is that… Natsuki's fearful gaze leaps to Viola.
"Do not allow them to win." Viola dips closer, the mattress beneath them creaking. "The moment you do, soul madness will take you."
"D-don't you think I get that?" Natsuki's voice lifts, cracking under strain. "Every day it throws world ending shit at me." She spits venomously. Natsuki wants to pull from the Arcewælcyrge's grip, but it is too late. Viola drags her into an embrace, causing their armour to grind together uncomfortably. "Vio—"
"—Stop calling me Viola." Her hold tightens. "Treating me distantly will no—"
"—Won't what?" Natsuki accuses her. "Stop behaving like you know everything."
The abrupt alteration in demeanour makes Viola pause. Natsuki glares at her with such ambition, she swears she's pushing her away. Yet… why is the opposite happening? Natsuki instead peers away, unconsciously gripping her chained Anchor.
"I don't know how to feel… I thought if I saw the graves I'd—" Natsuki cuts herself off angrily, exhaling. What did she want? Her gaze leaps to Viola minutely, fleeing immediately afterwards.
What does Viola mean to her? Do they have a purpose? Is it fine to not have one…?
The latter question strikes so keenly it unsettles Natsuki. Is it… wrong she…? Confusing yearning pits itself within Natsuki's chest as she locks eyes with Viola. The arm wound around her waist forbids her escape. Instead, panic wells up within Natsuki. "S-stop—"
"—Why are you afraid?"
That's…! "That's not true, I—"
"—Then why do you look as if you want me to disappear? Why is it that you look as you did at the very beginning of Ánherehood?" It is obvious that Soul Madness seeps inside Natsuki's mind; mayhaps warping her into someone else. "Do you want me to leave? I can sleep elsew—"
"—W-what? No! Don't be—" Natsuki stops herself, pulling herself from Viola's arms. "No, I… I don't want you to go." She looks anywhere but Viola, far too many questions invading her head. Why can't she be allowed respite? Is this her fault? Is she too weak?
"Then, at least allow me to help you remove your armour?" Viola's hand lands on her chestplate, making Natsuki swallow hard. Her fingers disturb her Anchor, making it rattle against iron.
"I… okay." Natsuki hasn't got the fortitude nor the energy to fight anymore. She's emotionally and physically drained.
The process is more painstaking than usual.
Viola isn't quite sure if it is something within the atmosphere, Natsuki's fear, or something else. "...Did the voices say something worse than usual?" She undoes the buckles keeping Natsuki's chest and backpiece together. "If so, do you want to discuss it?"
"I… no, it's nothing like that." The younger Wælcyrge lied through her teeth. Her mind instantly flashes back to Anh within the Black Valley. Is she still there battling endless Keys…? Or had that been an utter illusion? Did none of it happen at all? Is she insane? A palm enveloping her jawline startles her, bringing her back to reality.
"Are you aware now? I had to call out to you so many times..."
Viola stares at her worriedly, their armour neatly piled up beside them on the mattress.
"Oh, I…" How has a few mere thoughts shot her forward like this? She—ugh. "I want to sleep."
"Alright, I shall be—" Viola attempts to bunch up their armour within her arms but is hindered. Natsuki has grasped her gambeson's sleeve, forcing her to stay by her side. "What is wrong?"
"Stay with me." Natsuki grumbles, hating every moment of this. She can't admit that she hates sleeping alone now. It is always so cold and isolating. She had been the same in previous lives as well, hadn't she?
"Of course, but…" The Arcewælcyrge looks to the armour within her arms. "I must move this elsewhere. I would prefer not to lie on it." She teases in attempts to lighten the mood. Alas, this doesn't spark a reaction from Natsuki, making her sigh sadly. "I will put this on the other bed."
Said furniture is simplistic, unlike the four poster beds back at the Palace. These ones are made from exported pine likely located north of the continent. Setting everything down carefully, Viola spins on her heel to further interact with Natsuki. "It is rather tight." She points out, brushing a palm along the bed's thick blankets. "There will be very little space."
"Must you always speak as if I'm unsure of everything?"
Viola's brow tightens at the sudden accusation. "Excu—"
The younger Wælcyrge listlessly stares at the far wall. Before long, she shakes her head. "Sorry." She mutters, twisting around and forcing a smile at Viola. Leaning down, she instead begins unthreading her boots.
Seeing Natsuki like this is quite the revelation for Viola.
When Anh died she had gone through a similar shift. Soul Madness is a corruption of a Wælcyrge's morality, memories and anger. If they don't manage to cure Natsuki… She does not wish to think of it. Thus, Viola loosenes her own boots, stepping out of them.
There's a chill within the villa, silence taking over swiftly.
Once her boots are removed, Viola sits beside Natsuki once more. As the younger woman finishes taking off her own boots, Viola captures her right hand. She stares at it oddly, Viola then twists it around so Natsuki's palm faces skywards.
Along the base of Natsuki's thumb is an awful white scar. It spreads into the middle of her hand, feeling rough and jagged. Ever since Natsuki was bitten within the Catacombs, she has used this hand less and less. Essentially she is now left-handed.
Does it still hurt?
The two say nothing, Natsuki still refusing to look Viola's way.
"Natsuki." Viola speaks finally after a few more moments. "How do you feel, truly?"
"Anxious, annoyed, angry… scared." Natsuki lists them off rather calmly. Her wrist is now being held, and it drives her insane. What is Viola playing at? She eyes the elder momentarily, watching as she strokes her palm delicately.
"Do you think that will change?"
"No." The stroking halts. "...I don't know. Can we just sleep?" Her hand is released.
Getting into bed is far easier than it sounds. These beds are thinner than single-sized ones. It isn't necessarily impossible to share, but it is tight.
Eventually within the covers, Natsuki rolls onto her side to avoid facing Viola. The elder meanwhile still sits, partially unthreading her gambeson. "I saw a note when we walked in." Viola notifies her. "Every morning the Night Watch will knock on doors or windows. By default, the time is in the early hours."
So that's their personal mediaeval alarm clock? Oh, how Natsuki missed the days of sleeping in. "I hate the mornings." She mutters into the pillow, feeling the mattress sink as Viola adjusts herself.
Wait, she is forgetting something. Natsuki's face scrunches up in realisation: They hadn't taken care of their teeth. Ugh, oh well…
"I prefer the early morning hours when the mist rolls across the hills." Viola gets onto her back, moving the blanket so it covers them properly. In fact, Arles is the perfect location for mist, isn't it? The fields are sparse of trees, and the walls are low. It is also reportedly colder in Florence than in Windbloom.
How odd is it that Natsuki seems to dislike the chill?
IV • CM Sunnandæg of Ærraliða
(The 4th Day Before-Mild, Sun's Day, 900)
The next morning, Natsuki is situated at Arles' training area.
It is a large open space covered with sand, training dummies and barrels full of weapons. Located off to the side, is the guardhouse. Here, Natsuki is on its upper floor, watching from the balcony.
She is bored.
Perhaps both luckily and unfortunately, her train of thought is dismantled. Footsteps are heard from the steps, causing Natsuki to look towards them.
"Good morning." It is Laura.
"Ah, hey." Natsuki looks the Captain over swiftly, before returning her gaze to the training grounds.
Below them, Viola is inspecting every guard individually, having ordered them into a line.
Laura meanwhile, is armoured like last night, except helmless.
So even here there is no escaping old faces…? Natsuki broods, leaning her arms against the balcony. What had happened to the Laura she had known at Garderobe? They had been close friends.
"What's the story with your hand?" Laura asks suddenly, linking her own hands behind her back. She observes as Natsuki covers the scarring with her other palm, causing her to frown faintly.
"Was an accident." Natsuki lies easily, watching as a cocky guard thinks he can manhandle Viola. Both women notice, and are about to intervene. However, Viola's boot between the man's legs says otherwise. Natsuki blinks slowly with mild surprise, watching the guard collapse to his knees in pain.
"You bi—"
"—Do not finish that sentence."
The other guards look at the scene with both shock and awe.
"That guard has been warned several times about his behaviour already." Laura mutters, unlinking her hands to lean against the balcony. "I've heard the rumours of the Arcewælcyrge's distinct method of ways. I didn't expect her to be so straightforward."
"You'd be surprised." Natsuki sighs, watching as several guards try to overpower the now enraged man. But what takes them all by surprise is Viola's response.
"You think to teach a 'lowly woman' a lesson? You think of me as the 'fairer' and 'weaker' sex? Then do what you wish. Attack me."
"What's sh—"
"—Don't." Natsuki interrupts Laura. "She knows what she's doing."
But that's mad. Laura, as did the other guards, speechlessly watches as Viola ushers the enraged man forward.
Without warning, he leaps at her, but the Wælcyrge is far faster. Swerving to his side then behind, Viola kicks the back of his knee. The seething guard's anger increases tenfold, the hit sending him careening into the sand.
This bitch is a woman! How dare she embarrass him like this? Spluttering, he draws his sword. He'll show her. Besides, what's an Arcewælcyrge doing with that dull sabre? Shouldn't stuck up pricks like her have an officer's sword? Whatever.
Laura thinks to interrupt at that moment, but gets taken aback by surprise.
As Viola is charged upon, she draws her sabre. Again she veers to his side, slicing the man's wrist with one pristine swipe. In shock and pain, his sword falls soundlessly into the sand.
Quickly the others come to his rescue, one instructing him to lift his arm upwards.
That is impressive. Laura strokes her jaw, falling into thought.
Well. She didn't kill him, at least. Natsuki releases a breath she did not realise she had been holding. She winces at the sight of blood staining the sand, instantly forcing her eyes elsewhere. Viola is merciless. Natsuki is honestly worried that is going to get them in trouble—or perhaps worse.
"Arcewælcyrge Viola!" Laura calls from beside her, causing the entire group to look up at them. "Come inside." The Captain gestures for Natsuki to follow her, leading her down the steps and into the guardhouse entrance.
Here is a meeting room with a simple table, chairs and parchment. "Take the guards out for patrol." She says to one who is sitting at the table. They immediately scramble from their seat and dismiss themself. Not before almost walking into Viola, that is.
"O-oh, Arcewælcyrge. I'm sorry."
Brushing past the guard, Viola watches him leave shortly. "Captain?" She stops mid-step, Natsuki staring at her expectantly who has come to her side. Staring into the corner, Natsuki also looks this way.
A cloaked figure Laura did not see sweeps towards them. Before the two Wælcyrgan can respond, the unknown entity swings their arm backwards, before striking out. A gust of indescribable force rips against the two, throwing them unconscious.
The Rose Queen's Theme: Sakuzyo — Instinct (Long Vers).
Gold. It is everywhere. From paint, to the walls—even the vaulted ceiling. Natsuki has not ever experienced such obnoxious wealth like this before. Gargantuan portraits scale the walls, and extravagant chandeliers bask this chamber within light.
"...Viola?" She searches for the Arcewælcyrge. The elder woman stands beside her, also in awe of their surroundings.
"...This is Florence Palace."
What? Natsuki returns her gaze to her, bewildered.
How is that possible? Mere seconds ago they had been in the Arles guardhouse? But then that cloaked person had… "Not again…" She mumbles, fearing they are trapped in some kind of nightmare world again.
What is Natsuki—
"—Walkyrie!"
Their heads turn to the voice, only now realising they aren't alone within this stretching hallway.
Rosalie? Natsuki instantaneously recognises her. In this existence, she is a monarch?
Natsuki stares speechlessly at the crowned royal. She knew of her beforehand—of course. There is the Rosalie Dyke she had suspected involved her somehow, but also… Natsuki's lips part slightly, thinking further back.
Wait, how old is Rosalie? She looks around their age, perhaps older. The Canal de la Rosalie they had travelled along before is in ruins. Unless…? Natsuki's eyes are guided towards the portraits decorating the walls. These are of Florentine monarchs—most of which are Queens. Female sovereigns who coincidentally look alike. Are these really different women…? Her attention drags back to the approaching monarch, a foreboding atmosphere forming between them. Who is this woman?
"I must apologise." The Queen imparts.
She has pure noble beauty oozing from her. Dressed within the finest crimson silks, they captivatingly hug her slim frame."I wished to speak with you sooner, but things have been problematic."
"…What do you mean by that?" Viola is uneasy, a hand drifting close to her sabre. This is the enemy's monarch. Viola's gaze suddenly pinpoints Rosalie's Sovereign Ring, causing her eyes to widen faintly. An Anchor is fitted within it.
"A dark entity hounds people such as we." Rosalie walks towards Viola. Before the Arcewælcyrge can react, she seizes the hand upon her sabre. "You know of her as the Dark Whisperer, yes?" She gazes within shocked scarlet, speaking directly to Viola. "We call her 'La Terreur Anonyme'."
Terror… Anonymous…? Viola can only watch as Rosalie takes her sword, the blade aiming skywards. The Sovereign's Ring-Anchor flashes briefly, transforming the sabre. Before her very eyes, the once beautiful weapon morphes into an old, rusted sabre.
Is that why Laura had stared so weirdly at that sabre? Natsuki piecec the two together, not really understanding what this means. "You… Are you Queen Rosalie?"
"The Rose Queen, Rosalie XIX." Upon the Monarch's spoken title, the sabre shatters, disintegrating into nothingness. The sabre's knot did not vanish, remaining within Rosalie's grip. "She pollutes my realm and makes my subjects suffer. In your dreams and subconsciousness you have seen her."
Natsuki remembers the oddities of dreams she has forgotten: Oftentimes she sees dark figures within corners, in plain sight, or taking other peoples' identities. She also remembers Tomoe once saying she sees Yukariko like this. That, and the sensations she will sometimes feel when alone. Natsuki starts panicking.
"How do you know this?" Viola demands, having recovered from her initial shock. Reaching for Natsuki, she tugs her behind herself.
"Because I share her world." Beneath the Monarch, bygone crystalline symbols form across tiles. They are of lost and ancient meaning; of astrology, science and even alchemy. Then, their scenery changes. Rosalie's improvident fair curls rustle as she twists on her heel. Within them, they see something that makes no sense.
Thorned roses are growing within her hair. Within seconds they bloom, sprouting more down her body and onto the floor. The two Wælcyrgan back away from the swiftly growing garden, the Monarch moving farther away.
Within this new materialised chamber is a staired platform gracing a wondrous throne. Before it is an altar with an oddly familiar sword upon it.
"I would like to make a proposition." The Queen declares, taking this blade. She turns, gaze set upon the Wælcyrgan whose feet are entangled by thorned roses. "Make allegiance with me, and we shall rid La Terreur Anonyme and our enemies from this world!" Again the foreign symbols reappear beneath her body. This time, the cloaked figure from before emerges between Viola and Natsuki, startling them. "This is the Grand Sage; Shiho Huit."
Shiho? Natsuki regards the cloaked figure, clearly in disbelief as her heart rages. Everything is going far too fast. "What do you mean she's been in my dreams?! I wasn't—"
"—Soul mad?" Rosalie supplies her, this flawlessly silencing Natsuki as Shiho gingerly steps through the roses. "In truth everyone who isn't born in this world is soul mad. It is a term that was lost in translation long ago."
Should they be listening to a single word she's saying? Natsuki eyes Viola discreetly who appears deep in thought. Is she considering this? Is she insane?
"That woman—" Shiho removes her hood, revealing pink curls that rival Rosalie's somehow. "—has been destroying the astral plane! The Keys have all gone insane. Mine is uncontrollable!"
Steinberg caused that? Natsuki wearily looks at the three other women. Is that why Durandal tried to kill her? Natsuki goes deathly silent, gaze falling to the rose-encroached floor. She hasn't noticed that the crimson flowers have twisted around her thighs. A-ah? What's this?
"We weren't given these specific details." Viola says slowly, choosing her words wisely. Lifting her head high, she stares dead-set into the Monarch's eyes. "What is this place?"
"Are you s—" Shiho is deftly quietened by a signalled hand from Rosalie.
"It has many names. It's connected directly to Wælhaell. It is a place I feel that you have both visited several times." The Sovereign's focus moves to Natsuki in particular. "You look as if you know something. Though I cannot quite think why…"
Natsuki shoots a piercing glare at the Queen. Is Rosalie insinuating what she thinks she is?
"Hm." Rosalie smiles, watching as Viola looks at Natsuki curiously. "Very well." Descending the steps, she approaches Viola, manoeuvring through the roses with ease. "Wælcyrge. I projected my sword as an illusion within Guadeloupe. It acted as a fateful beacon for us to meet. I will like you to take its genuine form." The knot is still entangled around her wrist as she says this. Angling the sabre, the weapon's blade and hilt lies against her palms. "Please, will you take it?"
Natsuki desperately tries to stop the Arcewælcyrge. But somehow speech simply will not work. Her body as well—it feels exhausted. What's happening?
What feels like seconds are aeons for Natsuki as Viola remains silent. Why is she so against this? Neither of them truly belong here, did they? So why did she care about Windbloom? The conflict is making no sense. But then, the words that leave Viola's lips makes her heart race.
"You are a fine manipulator. Why are you so sure that we will join you?" Viola has heard all manner of things regarding the Rose Queen. Some simple—others phantastical. Their brief pause creates a hefty tension between them as she muses further. Her next statement has to be perfect. After all… these roses are more than they seem. They are slothfully wrapping around her torso now. Her energy is waning, and these flowers are responsible for that. "...—" Alas, she is interrupted.
"Why do you align yourself with Wind? Like I, you don't belong anywhere… You do not know, do you?"
Natsuki can only helplessly watch on as Rosalie breaks down Viola's defences. Again, how does any of this make any sense?!
Shiho comes to Rosalie's side, whispering something within her ear.
"..." The Queen leans close, listening carefully. Something shifts within her demeanour as she straightens to her full height. "...Yatagarasu is heading directly for Arles. I will send an army to aid you."
What? Natsuki's mind starts getting foggy at this declaration. Feeling her head spin, she attempts to shout out at Viola. Her sight goes black before she is able to accomplish this.
However, what she did not realise is that the same has happened to the Arcewælcyrge. Their bodies lax of energy, the two Wælcyrgan disperse from this grand hallway.
"Pourquoi leur avez-vous dit?" Shiho asks the Queen, clearly shocked.
"Le moindre doute suffit à renverser la loyauté de toute une nation. Ils reviendront… un jour."
Natsuki gasps for breath, scrambling up from the guardhouse's floor. A group of guards eye her with concern. One of them quickly signals for Laura, the Captain quickly heading over.
"What happened? You both collapsed out of nowhere!" She swiftly ushers the guards out, giving the two Wælcyrgan privacy.
"I… I don't know either." Natsuki lies through her teeth, pulling her gaze to Viola who is yet to awaken. Something is clearly wrong. "Vi—" She stops herself just in time. "Shizuru?" The burning of Laura's eyes are upon her back, making her neck's hair stand up.
…But what Natsuki doesn't realise is it isn't just the Captain looking at her.
A dark presence is huddled within this room's corner: Always surveying, never leaving. Alas, for it isn't evil nor good. It is an angelic form—the Dark Whisperer. She is both a concept and a creator. Several feet away from Viola is enough to feed from her strife. Essentially, this keeps her unconscious.
"Is something wrong? Why isn't she waking up?" Laura looms slightly over Natsuki as she squats downwards. They hadn't been able to wake up either Wælcyrgan for minutes.
Then, much to her confusion, she watches as Natsuki doubletakes the room's corner. The colour from Natsuki's face drains at that moment, making her look over as well. But… there's nothing there? Laura's eyes remain locked in that area, unable to spot the black mist hovering there.
Even if she senses nothing, clear apprehension betrays Laura's demeanour.
What is Natsuki supposed to do? Moments prior she had been with Viola in that strange world. Wælhaell is its name? The next? The Dark Whisperer stares right back at her. Heart thundering within her chest and her throat dry, she simply can not move.
"You do not belong in Gástgærd, child."
The entity speaks to her, the words flowing into only Natsuki's ears.
"To stabilise yourself, you must destroy your final self from Forodríce."
"Why should I believe a word you say?" Natsuki spits at her, not noticing that the Captain stares at nothing in particular.
It is as though Laura is in a trance—completely unaware of herself and surroundings. Natsuki unconsciously grips Viola's wrists, keeping her focus upon Yukariko's distorted form.
"They wish to confuse you: To take your Anchors as their own. Did you not notice the Sage's Anchor? It is the Queen's as well. That fragment halved long ago. Of course they will take another. Be it from friend or f—"
"—Shut up!" Natsuki yells at her, the guardhouse feeling a lot colder suddenly. Her Heart of Transmission glows brightly from its chain, hindering the dark entity for a moment. It is a heavy silence that ploughs the atmosphere: An excessive and brittle one.
She had not seen Shiho's Anchor, yet a new memory forms. Like the Rose Queen, the Sage wears it like a ring.
"...Then, what will you do? Continue to senselessly wander a world which you do not belong in yet? You do not know your own destiny nor what you are to become. When Tell Aswad falls, all lost souls will be released. Keys and politics are the least of your worries…"
With this, Yukariko's body fizzles out, her invasive words fading within the air.
At this moment, Laura breaks from her trance, nudging Natsuki. "Oh, hey. I think she's waking up." Why is it so cold in here? The Captain of the Guard stops, spotting frost across the floor and along the walls. What on…?
Viola's body slumps from the wall before she wakes, crimson eyes wearily opening. What had… Oh, Gods', her head. Weakly she grasps her skull, feeling a nauseating wave churn her stomach in reaction. Viola feels she is going to throw up—on top of suffering from a terrible migraine.
"Arcewælcyrge—Viola."
Natsuki and Laura's voices merge together, confusing Viola greatly. Warily she looks up at them. The Captain of the Guard is concerned. Natsuki meanwhile… Emerald and crimson lock.
She looks petrified.
This is unbearable.
It has been hours since their spiritual ambush. But… Viola can not remember any of it.
Ever since returning to the villa, Natsuki has been giving her the cold shoulder. Why? Her former Ánhere refuses to speak of what happened. Something potentially awful has happened, hasn't it? "Nats—"
"—Don't speak to me." Natsuki flawlessly cut her off.
They are situated in the living room of the villa. Here there is a table which they are sitting at. Natsuki has angled her chair so her back faces Viola. Lifting her gaze from the parchment she writes upon, Viola frowns. "You have no idea what I am about to say." A shrug is Viola's only indication Natsuki has even heard her.
Communication null, their silence is only broken by the scribbling of Viola's quill. She has procrastinated enough penning this letter. A sigh slips from her lips, raising her palm to support her head. Alas… She stares at the splodge of ink spreading from her quill, hand unmoving. The Arcewælcyrge is far too distracted. Henceforth, she says… "Tell me what happened. I must know."
"Do you? Why should I give you that chance?"
Viola's eyes narrow faintly, annoyance clearly bristling her. Natsuki can seriously be a brat at times. "If it is unimportant, why did you appear terrified when I awoke?" Receiving more silent treatment, Viola's grip upon the quill goes rigid. Abruptly, she stands, putting the quill back into its inkwell.
What is Viola d—The elder woman rounds her chair; her hands slamming against her chair's armrests. Natsuki's entire body stiffens in reaction.
"Tell me this. What happened?" The Arcewælcyrge's voice lowers dangerously. It is obvious that Natsuki has broken her patience. Yet…? Natsuki is being infuriatingly adamant in ignoring her. "Natsuki!" She hisses, grasping her wrist.
"I'm not afraid of you anymore." Natsuki declares her dicey lie, turning her head as Viola descends closer. Inwardly she curses herself, for her heart races and her insides twist. The atmosphere is strifeful… Natsuki understands she's screwed, yet why does her godforsaken mouth keep going?
"I have the upperhand this time."
The look Viola shoots her intimidates her greatly, but she desperately tries to hide it.
Why is she doing this? Natsuki's heart hammers within her chest: Her Arcewælcyrge looming over so closely that her lips nearly brush her ear. The whisper which follows, sent chills down her spine.
"Liar... I may not remember what happened, but I know every inch of you. Tell me… Or else."
Natsuki set her jaw tightly, eyes settling elsewhere. "Or else what?" She forces a breath, mentally kicking herself. Already she's in far too deep and there's no escaping this now.
"What do you think I will do?"
Natsuki can no longer read the Arcewælcyrge.
At that moment, an aggressive tension swallows them up.
