Lady Claes blinked, and looked at the princes before her with furrowed brow. Then she shrugged.

Before anyone could stop her, she stepped into the fog.

Alone…

… for about half a heartbeat as Lady Hunt screamed "Lady Katarina!" and plunged in after her. Prince Alan tried to stop his fiancée, but had to drop his sword so as not to hit her. Unbalanced, he found himself dragged along after her. He might have been able to resist if his brother hadn't gone plunging in after his fiancée. Lord Claes was behind only because he'd been farther from the door, plunging in after his sister as well.

Lord Ascart had no opportunity to do anything foolish as his sister tackled him to the ground with the ferocity of a bloodstarved beast, sending his sword flying as she seemed to climb him like a piece of furniture and sat on his chest, still screaming the whole while.

Maria did not know the young woman well, but it occurred to her that Lady Ascart was likely the sanest, most level-headed, rational and reasonable person in Lady Claes' entourage.

…

Perhaps she would leave the country once one of the princes ascended the throne. If they lived to do so. If she did. She should really put as much distance between herself and this door as she could. Perhaps a mountain range, or a sea. If this was anything like the fog found by the few surviving Knights of Cainhurst in their explorations of the Pthumerian ruins, then near-certain death awaited on the other side. The almost-always lone survivors had been honored by the queen by being gifted her blood, and had been allowed to retire into the nobility, though they had usually stayed on to help train the now devastated knighthood back to fighting strength.

…

Sighing, she bent down and picked up Prince Alan's sword. "Lady Ascart, I would strongly recommend you and your brother find the fine folk of this academy trained in the dispersal of violence, and the fine minds of the ministry versed in violent magic, and call them to this place," Maria said, before taking a deep breath and stepping into the fog. She needed to see this through and find out the truth with her own eyes.

The ominous fog seemed to go transparent as her eyes touched it, revealing the room on the other side. Its edges and some sills along the walls were full of candles and a few standing candleholders, all glowing with that unnatural purple flame, bathing the chamber in its eldritch light. Was this the power of Dark Magic?

Scribbled on the wall, seemingly without pattern, were groupings of unknown glyphs and runes that Maria knew not, lining the walls in a seemingly endless scrawl. On the floor, dominating most of the chamber was some sort of more ordered pattern, a large circle inside which ordered geometric shapes interspersed with the unknown writing. The air seemed unnaturally still, as if crystallized.

The princes stood before the door, the Third Prince with his burning sword raised, Prince Alan with his fists. Between and before them stood Lady Claes, while behind them was Lord Claes and Lady Hunt. At her entrance, the latter whirled, her eyes fixed on the sword Maria held even though she held it carelessly by its pommel, point down. Careful of the profile she presented, Maria moved towards Prince Alan, even as her eyes never left the far side of the room. Lady Hunt eyed her suspiciously. Just what had she done to the woman?

"You dropped this, Prince Alan," she said as she offered him back his sword. He took it from her carefully, raising it in a guard as soon as it was in his hand. Maria stepped back, the open but inescapable door behind her. She had eyes only for the other side of the circle.

Sirius Dieke stood there, one hand raised to his face as if in pain. Black smoke that writhed like flame was erupting from him, seeping from every inch of his body as if from a gushing spring. Her hunter's instincts screamed at that she was in the presence of a dangerous beast. His eyes had snapped to track Maria as soon as she entered the room. They were filled with anger, pain and betrayal. In his hand was a sword of his own.

Even as she watched, Maria saw his eyes fill with loathing, his gaze never leaving her.

She felt something inside her, something that smiled sometimes and liked to offer to use her magic, break just a little. Maria pushed it to the back of her mind with difficulty even as she offered a one-handed bow.

Before she could speak however, he barked, "So, you're one of them now, Maria? What happened to not wanting to have anything to do with Katarina Claes?"

Maria straightened, face smooth even as she could feel Lady Hunt's stare boring into her nose. "You misunderstand, Lord President. Various students have come forward with allegations regarding your person. As a member of the student council, I am here to ascertain the truth of these allegations and to receive your testimony in defense of yourself. I am sure this is all just some misunderstanding."

For some reason, Prince Alan let out a bark of laughter at that. And… yes, he was still snickering. What was so funny?

Sirius was laughing too. It was, unfortunately, the familiar, mocking laughter of a madman, a sound she thought she would never have to hear again in this life. "Oh Maria, you're always so dutiful, aren't you? So blind, so stupid, but always dutiful."

Something inside her broke just a little more.

"Why are you here, Claes?" he demanded, finally turning towards the noble. Lady Claes faced him as if the sword in his had did not matter, as if the princes at her back were irrelevant. Though Maria couldn't see her face, her bearing was straight, her breathing calm. Almost relaxed.

She tilted her head slightly. "The spell to keep me asleep wore off," she said, as if stating the obvious.

"That's not what I meant!" Sirius snapped. "I know the spell wore off! How... Why are you here? After what I did to you? Why would you appear before me! Are you just here to mock me?!"

"Eh? Why would I mock you?" Lady Claes said, sounding genuinely surprised. "What you didn't isn't something to make fun of, but I don't think it was that horrible, really."

Maria looked at Lady Claes and wondered just when they had started imbibing large amounts of sea water and brain fluid. To be fair, Sirius was giving her the same look.

"You… do you even have any idea what I did to you?"

"Eh? Did you draw on my face after you used Dark Magic on me to put me to sleep? Alan, is there still something on my face? Eh? What's that for?"

Maria could not blame Prince Alan for raising a hand to cover his face.

"Lady Katarina…" Lady Hunt sighed, a hand on her face as well.

"Eh? EH?! D-did I say something wrong?"

"Damn it, you're always like this! Don't you realize I had every intention of killing you?! That sleeping spell was meant to take your life!"

"Eh? But that's definitely not true. After all, if you really wanted to kill me, it would have been easier to just kill me on the spot after you cast your spell on me. If you'd made me sleep on my stomach, I'd have choked up my breakfast and died. Anne is always telling me not to sleep on my front like that so soon after dinner, so I suppose breakfast must be the same?"

"Lady Katarina…!" Lady Hunt sighed again.

"I came here because I wanted another chance to really talk to you."

"...T-talk?"

"Yes. Because... you looked like you were in terrible pain back then. Because you were... crying. So I wanted one more chance to get you to talk to me…"

She stepped forward.

Sirius brandished his sword at her. "Stay back!" he snarled. The black smoke around him rose higher, seemingly getting thicker. It seemed a true flame now, burning from the wick that was the president.

"Ah, it's a bit late, but thank you for using that sleep spell on me. Thanks to you, I had the most wonderful dream."

Maria watched as Lady Claes bowed low, lower than even a peasant needed to bow to the king.

"From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for giving me the opportunity to have that dream. I will treasure the memory of it for the rest of my life. Thank you… Rafael Walt."

Maria swayed. She couldn't help it. The shock was too much. She felt as if the world as falling away from her feet, as if phantasms were crawling around in her skull, writhing in her brain.

Dear Oedon… how could she have been so blind? How could she not realize? No wonder she had so many minders and was never left alone! Why they would insist she be allowed into the student council chamber so they could keep an eye on her.

This woman was an idiot!

+10 Insight

…

Wait, who in the Queen's Name and Blood was Rafael Walt?!

"YOU MOCK ME?!" the president roared. The black flame around him surged upwards, brushing the ceiling. "You mock me with that name? How do you know that name?!"

Snarling, he lunged at the still-bowing Lady Claes!

"Katarina!" both princes cried.

Prince Alan and her brother grabbed her, pulling her back, while her fiancé put himself in the president's way. His burning blade clashed with the President's plainer sword. Sirius parried the blade to the side and his left elbow darted, striking the prince's forearm. There was a burst of darkness, and suddenly the prince was falling, the flame of his sword extinguishing as it clattered to the ground.

Sirius kicked the prince aside, only to meet Prince Alan's own blade as the Fourth Prince let out an enraged cry at his brother's fall, attacking Sirius with a flurry of maddened swings. Sirius darted back, giving ground, and when the prince overextended himself the president slammed his pommel down the prince's side. There was another burst of darkness, and Prince Alan fell as well.

Sirius turned towards Lady Claes with a snarl, facing Lord Claes, who'd finally drawn his sword and has standing guard between him and Katarina. Bending down, Sirius took Alan's blade off the ground and charged in. At the last second, he threw the prince's blade, and Lord Claes parried on instinct, deflecting the weapon but leaving himself open. Sirius' stabbed at his torso, and Lord Claes barely managed to parry, and the blade found his left arm, biting into the bicep. As he cried in pain, Sirius lashed out with his left hand, touching Keith. THere was a third burst of darkness and Keith fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

Sirius wrenched out his blade, the tip bloody, only jump back in surprise as… a toy snake was thrown in his face? "Am I a joke to you?!" he demanded, only to see that Lady Claes had used the time to dive for her fiancé's fallen sword, and held it before her in a low guard position, standing between him and Lady Hunt.

"Rafael…" she said, sounding stunned a the sudden violence. "Please, no one needs to get hurt. I just want to talk to you…"

"You shouldn't have brought up that name! Are you with her? Have you known what she did all this time? Are commoners like us just toys to you?"

"Rafael, please…" Lady Claes pleaded.

Sirius, face twisted in a beastly rictus of rage, raised his sword for another lunge.

No one surpassed her at the lunge.

Maria exploded forward, the blade she had carried behind her back turning smoothly in her hand as she crossed the distance between them like a quicksilver bullet. She went from the edge of the room to the center in seemingly a single step, the candles at her starting point being snuffed out from her departure, only to reignite once more into purple flame.

The president barely darted back in time to keep from losing a shoulder. "TRAITOR!" he cried as Maria interposed herself between him and Lady Claes. "You're choosing her over me?!"

"President," Maria said, even as she drew the dagger she'd hidden in her right sleeve. Blade and sword in hand, she held them out to either side of her. "Stand down. Please."

"Die with the nobles, Campbell!" he spat, wreathed in eldritch flame as dark as the abyssal cosmos. "I'll kill you all! I will have my revenge!"

Maria closed her eyes. "Lady Claes, please stay with Lady Hunt," she said, and stepped forward.

Maria Campbell joins the hunt.

Sirius Dieke, Lord President of the Student Council

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Old Decorative Saber
An older saber that has seen better days, but is still sound. As a decorative weapon meant for display, it's not sharp at all but the point is still dangerous and the edge will bruise.

A nostalgic weapon that appealed to Maria Campbell at first sight, calling to mind ancient days. For a hunter must hunt.