Chapter 16: Intruder

The world outside Abel's window was just as clouded and gloomy when he awoke as it had been when he went to bed. He let out a disappointed sigh as he climbed out of bed, being careful not to disturb Niel, who was sprawled out at the foot of the bed, still asleep. He'd hoped to spend the day practicing with his sword, perhaps even ask Roland for advice on improving his technique. And while the rain didn't fall as heavily as the day before, it showed no sign of stopping. Until the storm passed, it seemed he would have to find another way to fill his time.

As Abel watched raindrops splatter against the window, his stomach made a rather loud noise. Deciding he could consider his options over breakfast, he left his room to search for the kitchen, stepping out just as Holly was passing by his door. "Holly?" he asked. "What are you doing up so early?" Abel didn't actually know what time it was- the gloom outside made it hard to judge- but no one else seemed to be awake.

"I was just coming back from the bathroom," she replied. "Are you going somewhere?" Abel had seen the mercenary out of her armor before, but only in very brief glimpses. Clad only in long socks and her ribbed long-sleeved shirt, her silver hair flowing down her back freely, Holly… wasn't much different than when she was while in her armor. Only now, without her armor to contain them, two very large somethings stood prominently on her front side.

Still, Abel made a valiant effort to keep his gaze from drifting below the mercenary's collar. "I was gonna make some breakfast for myself. Hopefully Miss Violet won't mind if I borrow her kitchen."

Holly tilted her head. "You know how to cook?" Abel tried and failed to notice that even that small movement caused the mercenary's somethings to bounce very slightly.

"A little," he confessed. "I'm no expert, but it'll be edible, at least." The woodsmen back in Seles never had anything decent to say about the meals Abel made for them- but at the same time, they would never decline to eat anything he made. And tellingly, the insults only came when they knew Abel had prepared their meals. Otherwise, they would eat without complaint, sometimes even offering the occasional compliment. Abel treasured those few kind words, rare as they were- it made everything he went through feel almost worthwhile… if only briefly.

Holly's expression brightened, and she stepped toward him, making her somethings bounce very noticeably… not that Abel had been staring at them, of course. "Oh, would you be willing to cook for two?" she asked eagerly.

"Eh…" That caught Abel off-guard. Sure, his cooking had been complemented in the past, even if only rarely, but someone wanting to eat something he'd made, and saying so to his face… BUt in the face of Holly's eagerness, he couldn't bring himself to deny her. "…s-sure. I don't mind. Just don't expect too much out of me. It's been a while."

The two made their way to the foyer, and began descending the steps. "You know, I always wanted to learn how to cook for myself," Holly said.

"Why's that?" Abel asked, trying very hard to not notice how the mercenary's somethings bounced with every step she took down the stairs.

"Well, ever since our dad died, my sister's been the one who takes care of me," the mercenary replied, her expression turning somber. "When I left home, I never realized how dependent I was on her. Her and everyone eeeeaahh!" Holly's foot slipped off the step and she began to fall.

"Holly!" Abel lunged to catch her. But, he wasn't fast enough. Thankfully, they were on the last step, so the mercenary didn't fall far, but she struck the unforgiving tiled floor, and trembled as she struggled to rise. In an instant, Abel was at her side, helping her back on her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Oww…" she said faintly, before replying, "I… I'm okay. My foot just slipped on the wood."

"That's been happening a lot lately. Are you feeling alright?" As much as Abel didn't want to admit it, Claire's observation from the days before hadn't been wrong- Holly had been constantly tripping, or dropping things, or otherwise struggling with seemingly mundane tasks, as much as she tried to hide it. And it seemed the further they got from Aglis, the worse it became.

"I-I'm fine, really!" she stammered, suddenly becoming very flustered. I've always had accidents like these! It's nothing to worry about!" She quickly pulled herself out of Abel's grasp, more because he'd been caught by surprise than because she'd managed to force her way out. "Now let's-"

Holly suddenly stumbled, and cried out as she began to fall again. But before Abel could react at all, something darted out with seemingly impossible speed to catch her. It was Minze. Slowly, the maid gently lifted Holly back onto her feet, before asking, "Your mother suffered from the Kallistan Blight, didn't she?"

"Wha- where did you come from!?" Abel demanded.

At the same time, Holly asked, "Eh- How did you know that?" sounding more surprised than confused.

"An alchemist, at his core, is also a physician- he must have an understanding of diseases and their symptoms to create effective remedies," Minze replied. "It's something Master Valerian once said in his time in Kazas. Nearly five hundred years later, almost every Alchemist's Guild on the continent still holds to these words." The maid then looked at Holly with a keen eye. "Weak vision, low manual dexterity, stunted growth, poor coordination, a fragile constitution… the symptoms are clear to anyone who knows what to look for. As for the Blight itself…" Her gaze turned to Abel. "It's a wasting disease that targets the muscles of the body. It begins with weakness in a specific area, which both spreads and worsens over time. Eventually, the disease will spread to the chest, causing the heart to stop beating, and the lungs to cease drawing breath. At this stage, the Kallistan Blight is unilaterally fatal."

"Wait, what!?" Abel looked to the mercenary. "Holly, you're sick" She didn't look unwell, but…

"Abel, I'm not-" Holly began.

But Minze cut her off. "You don't need to worry about your friend, Master Abel. Though it can be fatal to a child in the earliest stages of pregnancy, exposure through her mother has allowed her to develop an immunity to the Blight. Exposure of that kind carries side effects, though nearly all of them can be mitigated through various medicines. It's likely your friend had one of these medicines. One that she hasn't taken in some time." Minze then shifted her gaze back to Holly. "Is that correct?"

"It's not-" Holly stammered. "It's not that I haven't been taking it. I had some medicine that my family's physician gave me. But… I ran out of it a while ago. And… well, no apothecaries this far east has ever even heard of the Blight."

"I expected as much." Minze reached into her coat, and gave Holly a bottle filled with a dark red liquid. "I took the liberty of brewing a medicine for you, though it's much more potent than what you're likely used to. You'll only need to take two or three drops every few days."

Holly looked at the bottle with some reluctance, before removing the cork. Before drinking from it however, Abel ordered. "Hold on a moment." He turned to the maid. "How did you know Holly was sick? And how did you manage to make a medicine for her so fast?"

Minze looked at Abel impassively. "I served one of the most skilled alchemists of his day, and continue to serve his descendants to this day. My service also affords me unrestricted access to one of the most extensive alchemical libraries on the continent, if not the world over." She then tilted her head slightly, and smiled- it was so small and faint as to be practically invisible, but it was there. "I would like to think I learned a thing or two in my years of service." The maid then walked past Abel and Holly, to a door set into the central staircase. "The kitchen is in the east wing adjacent to the dining room. You are welcome to use whatever ingredients you wish. I ask only that you tidy up after yourself." She opened the door, and began descending a set of narrow stone steps behind it.

A moment passed, before Holly took a small drink from the bottle, before immediately retching and coughing. " Oh, I forgot how terrible this tastes," she said, wiping her watering eyes with her sleeve. "Anyway… shall we go?"

Abel didn't answer, staring at the open doorway Minze had left through.

Holly touched Abel's shoulder. "Abel?"

Abel jolted slightly, but didn't answer. Instead, he muttered, "What a strange woman…"

"I am as Master Valerian made me," Minze's voice echoed up the stairs, and soon enough, the maid herself re-emerged from the stairs, Violet following close behind. "Nothing more."

"Minze, I'm hungry," Violet said through a yawn, bleary-eyed.

"Would you be willing to allow one more guest to join you?" Minze asked. "I must admit, I'm curious to see your skill for myself."

" Uh… " Under Minze's scrutiny, Abel felt much less confident about his cooking skill than he had just minutes before. But he'd already agreed to share with Holly. He couldn't back out this far in. "…n-no problem," he stammered weakly in reply.

Minze gave a small nod in satisfaction. "Excellent. I look forward to the result. Let us go, My Lady."

"'Kay…" Violet replied through another yawn, and the two headed for the dining room.

Abel let them go on ahead. But, he didn't follow after them right away. There was something bothering him. About what Minze had said to him. Specifically…

There was something particular in her choice of words.

I am as Master Valerian made me.

Made.

…what exactly was that supposed to mean?

The rain falling outside the manor had lessened or increased in the three days since Abel and the others arrived. But it had never stopped entirely- something Abel was grateful for as the cool rain washed over him, taking with it the sweat and the heat of his body as he leaned on his sword, breathing heavily. A few paces away, Roland stood with Durandal in hand- he'd shed his armor in favor of the Order's simple blue-and-white robes, looking much less fatigued. Gripping the hilt with both hands and holding the blade low, he said, "Come at me whenever you're ready."

After a few more breaths, Abel gripped his sword tightly, and charged at Roland, swinging at the prince's left. Roland barely seemed to move, but deflected Abel's strike with ease, sending Abel stumbling. Abel wheeled around, but the prince's blade was already arcing towards him. Abel raised his sword to block the swing, and there was a deafening clang as Durandal clashed against it. The blow pushed Abel back… or rather, it pushed his upper half back, while his feet slid forward, finding no purchase on the slick grass, and Abel fell very ungracefully onto his back.

Before he could rise, he found a gold-and-silver blade pointed at his chest. "You would have been better off avoiding that. Without a shield, you don't yet have the strength to block a strike from a sword like Durandal."

"That's hardly a fair assessment, don't you think?" Lailah called. She, along with Fiann, was seated by the doors of the manor, sheltered from the rain, watching Abel train. "Abel slipped. That's hardly his fault."

Roland pulled his sword back and turned, allowing Abel to rise. "When I was still an initiate in the order," he said aloud, "we could be called upon for training at any time, with no heed to the hour, the weather, or the season- be it under the heat of the summer sun, in the rain and lightning of the fall, or in the snow on a winter's night. It was meant as a lesson: to teach us that danger could strike at any time, and that we must always be ready to face whatever foe was waiting for us." As he returned to his starting position, he continued, "As a Hero, Abel is under a similar burden, and those who walk with him must be just as vigilant. The enemy will strike whether you are prepared for them or not- most often, they will strike when you are not. Now…" The prince pointed Durandal at Abel. "Come at me whenever you're ready."

After readying himself, Abel didn't move forward. Instead, he asked, "Mister Roland, could you come at me instead?" So far, Abel had been the one on the offensive. But what Roland said struck something within him. And perhaps, being the one to strike first wasn't always the best choice.

The prince tilted his head slightly, before nodding and gripping Durandal with both hands. "Very well. Here I come." In seemingly no time at all, Roland crossed the distance between them and swung at Abel from above. This time, Abel darted to the side rather than trying to block, before striking back in turn with a horizontal swing. Roland swung upwards, deflecting his swing and throwing Abel off-balance. Abel dived in the direction his momentum carried him, rolling back to his feet. And not a moment too soon- Roland had closed the distance again, swinging horizontally. Abel quickly stepped back, outside Durandal's reach. Evading was easy- though he'd shed his armor, his sword's length meant his swings were nowhere near as fast as Fiann's. But Durandal was much longer than Abel's own blade, and the prince left no opening in which Abel could close the distance.

But eventually, an opening came. The prince drew back for a thrust- Abel lunged forward, swinging upwards from below. Roland evaded, stepping to Abel's left, just as Abel hoped he would. Abel whirled around, swinging his blade in a full circle to strike from below again, turning slightly so his strike was aimed at the prince. But as his swing came up, Roland turned his sword in his hand and knocked Abel's aside- the shock caused Abel to lose his grip, and the sword flew from his hand. Roland reared back for a horizontal swing. In reflex, Abel called a sword of light to his hand, raising it in the faint hope that it might stop the prince's strike.

But Roland stopped his swing, before Durandal touched Abel's sword of light. "I managed to parry that strike because you took your eyes off of me." He then pulled his sword back. "That said, you have a good sense for reading your opponent- I didn't think my thrust was so obvious. As my old instructor once said, the best kind of training is one where both parties learn something." Roland finally returned Durandal to its sheath. "And with that, I think we should leave things off here."

The two headed back into the manor to dry off. As soon as he'd crossed the threshold, Lailah approached, handing him a towel. "You did a good job today, Abel. You're growing, just like Sister Beatrix said you would."

"Thanks," he replied absently, before stepping around the priestess, his mind already turned to his next task.

Fiann approached him, journal open, words already written within: [I was trained in how to use all sorts of weapons. I can teach you how to use them, if you'd like.]

"It's fine, really," Abel replied, still somewhat detached. "I should probably focus on getting better with a sword before trying to learn a new weapon." Fiann began to write something else, but he dashed up the stairs and to his bedroom before he could finish. After removing his soaked jacket, he turned his attention to his bed, and the object which occupied his focus: a book, bound in worn beige leather.

The Promestein's library, as Minze had boasted days prior, was a massive collection of alchemical manuals, treatises, and encyclopedias. While Abel was sure it was very useful to Violet and the rest of her family, but having little interest in alchemy himself, Abel found it much less appealing. That said, as he browsed through the shelves, he did find some outliers, two of which caught his eye. one was about the rise and fall of the Cybelian Empire, imaginatively titled… The Rise and Fall of the Cybelian Empire. The other tome had a much simpler title, one which piqued Abel's interest- Dragonslayer. Niel and Lailah would no doubt have wanted him to read about the Cybelian Empire first, but it wasn't like the words would crawl off the pages before he had a chance to read them. So, he opened Dragonslayer first. And Abel very quickly found himself engrossed.

Dragonslayer, as it turned out, was about Alondight, and his quest to defeat the original Overlord, the Dread Dragon Bahamut, and his Twelve Fiend Generals. The book drew from numerous sources, chief among them being the journal of one of Alondight's companions, Lescatié, with supplemental information, commentaries, and speculation on the part of numerous contributing authors. Abel was surprised to learn that Lescatié was not Alondight's first companion, but the fourth, and that Alondight (or rather, Sin, as he was known at the time) had already been on his quest for several years by the time they met, having slain two of the Generals, Fiend Generals, though one of his companions had been slain in turn.

Abel picked up Dragonslayer, and resumed from where he left off.

"One of the great mysteries surrounding Alondight pertains to his origins. According to Lescatié's journal, the Hero himself claimed to hail from 'Neith,' but no further elaboration is provided, making it unclear whether 'Neith' refers to a village, a nation, or an entire continent. Countless Bastokan and Windurstian cities, towns, and villages, scattered across Mavors, Ermis, Peryn, Cybele, and Istar claim to be the legendary Neith- Kazas historian Lyrin Telleno commented that such may be the case, as thousands of years of linguistic drift and conquests may have erased Neith's original name. However, no town putting forth the claim to be Alondight's birthplace has been able to provide compelling evidence to support their claim. Some, such as previous Praetor Alessia Ottus, speculate that the boy named Sin hailed from the ancient kingdom of Duat, or perhaps- as alleged by the infamous Order priest known only as 'the Sparrow-' the Hero hailed from a realm deep in Windurst's interior (to the Sparrow's credit, it is known that the continent was once much more hospitable to human habitation in Alondight's time than in the present day). Other, less credible scholars place Neith elsewhere: distant Jeuno, the now sunken Adoulin, the dark lands of Xibalba, or as-yet-undiscovered lands even further afield. However, without any corroborating evidence, such speculation-"

Abel abruptly stopped. In the two days since finding Dragonslayer, he had developed a habit of wandering about the Promestein manor as he read. Normally, his companions would have to shout to get his attention, but this time, Abel's focus was broken when he spotted a familiar face in the corner of his eye. He looked, but his peripheral vision hadn't been mistaken. He was on the landing of the staircase in the foyer- and hanging among the dozen or so portraits there was one depicting Amber. Closing his book, Abel glanced briefly at the rest, finding a painting of Violet among them, as well as one of Minze. The others, however, were unknown to him, and unlike Valerian's, the smaller portraits had no plaques identifying their subjects. But based on their positioning, they most likely depicted other members of the Promestein family.

"Minze painted most of those," an awkward, halting voice said. Abel looked, to see Violet ascending the steps. On the landing, the alchemist stopped alongside him, regarding the portraits. "Actually, she painted all of them. Except for the portrait of Grandfather Valerian. That one was commissioned by Emperor Diedrick while he was still in Kazas."

"Miss Violet," Abel said. "Are you finished studying the sample?"

"I merely stepped away for a moment. Sometimes, I find that doing so helps me to see things that I did not before."

Abel had noticed it the day before, but there was something odd about the way Violet spoke. It was definitely the language of Mavors, but slow and stilted, as if she didn't have full mastery of it. Her grasp wasn't as poor as Holly's attempt back in Aglis, and it didn't interfere with his ability to understand her, but it was definitely noticeable, even to his untrained ear. And notably, the stiltedness was absent when she spoke to Minze privately in that other language. "You know, if there's another language you're more comfortable with, you can talk to me in that one."

"I will admit, I do have a better grasp of Ermisch, but Minze insists I should practice Mavorian more often."

Abel looked back at the portrait of Valerian. Holly found the painting to be creepy, not wanting to walk past it at night- Abel could agree that the Promestein patriarch's dour visage was not something he'd want to stumble across in a darkened corridor. It was then that he noticed something carved into the plaque on the bottom of the portrait, next to Valerian's name: the numbers '536.' They must have been the year the painting was made.

And that's when something occurred to Abel. Violet had called Valerian "Grandfather." But his portrait had been made in 536, one year after Diedrick had captured Kazas. The current year was 991. Meaning, Violet's grandfather would have had to live for a very, very long time. Had he missed something? Still looking at Valerian's portrait, he asked, "Valerian… you said he was your grandfather?"

Violet tilted her head, confused. Then, as if realizing something, she quickly said, "Of course. As an outsider, you would be unfamiliar with that. Grandfather Valerian was part of the Promestein family's first generation, while I am part of the eighth. Thus, Valerian would be my great-great-great-great- great -grandfather." Violet counted each "great" on her fingers, presumably to ensure she had the right number. "All those 'greats' get a bit difficult to fit into a conversation, so past a certain point, we began referring to him as Grandfather Valerian."

"We?"

"My family. Myself, my mother Jasmine Rose, my grandmother Rose Dahlia, and my great grandmother Dahlia Anemone." A pause. "And Minze, of course. She was actually the one who made the suggestion."

Abel found it a little strange that she only mentioned her mother, grandmother, and so forth. But that prompted another thought: he hadn't seen anyone else in the manor. Just Violet and Minze. "Speaking of your family, where are they? I know Amber's with the Church, but what about your mother? Or your grandmother?"

"My grandmother died before I was born," Violet replied bluntly. "And my mother died around five years ago."

Well that would certainly explain things. And now Abel felt like an insensitive clod. "I… I'm sorry for your loss."

"Sei nicht," Violet replied, her tone more relaxed as she focused on one portrait in particular, one that showed a stern-looking woman with short silver hair and sharp eyes of dark blue. Don't be. "Ich erinnere mich nicht an ihren Tod. Eigentlich erinnere ich mich an nichts von vor drei Jahren." I don't remember anything about my mother's death. Actually, I don't remember anything from before three years ago.

Abel's mouth fell open. "You don't? "

Violet didn't look his way. "Minze tells me that I was conducting an experiment with an especially volatile substance. Something agitated the substance, causing it to explode- as I was blown backward, I struck my head on a stone. When I awoke a week later, I had no memory of anything- not my name, not of Minze… and nothing prior to that day."

Abel didn't reply right away. In Seles, felling trees was dangerous work, and he'd seen more wounds- more deaths- that he was comfortable admitting. But blows to the head were especially feared. Some were lucky, only forgetting the events of that day. Most… weren't - some lost weeks, or even years of their lives. Some forgot how to speak, or how to use an arm or leg. Some forgot much more than that. And some fell into a sleep from which they never awoke. Those who came from Hokes to tend the wounded always called it miraculous for someone to survive such injuries… but almost everyone from the village agreed it would have been more merciful if they hadn't.

Eventually, as Violet regarded the portrait of the silver-haired woman, he asked, "Does it… ever bother you,? Not being able to remember her?" Abel knew he had no room to speak on such matters- he'd never known either of his parents. But…

"Not really. I'm more bothered by the knowledge I might've forgotten than anything else. I might've been on the verge of a breakthrough, and I'd never know it now." Violet's gaze turned to the floor. "Perhaps that knowledge would help to solve the problem I face now."

The alchemist then turned, looking much less melancholy than Abel expected. "In any case, I think Minze raised me quite well. You may not think so, but she is kind, in her own way."

The door at the top of the steps on the right side of the foyer opened with a creak, and Minze stepped through. The maid looked surprised for a moment, before descending to the landing. "My Lady," she said. "I was just coming to look for you."

"You were?" the alchemist asked. "Whatever for?"

Minze clasped her hands in front of her waist. "I've taken the liberty of drawing a bath and preparing a fresh set of clothes for you.

"Come now, Minze. It is not that bad, is it?" Violet pulled at her collar, and sniffed- judging from her expression, she instantly regretted it. "Oh. That… that is a very… peculiar scent." She grabbed the hem of her white shirt, and began to pull it up, as if to pull it over her head.

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wha-what are you doing!?" Abel stammered, quickly turning away. But he hadn't turned away fast enough to avoid catching a glimpse of Violet's stomach, and the very bottoms of her… somethings.

"I was under the impression that one removes their clothes before bathing" Violet replied, calm, as if she wasn't casually undressing in front of him.

"My Lady…" Minze began. "I remind you that we are hosting guests at the moment."

"What of it? I can do as I like in the comfort of my own home," Violet replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. Abel risked a glance, and immediately regretted it- the alchemist was still very much paused midway through undressing.

"I think Master Abel would disagree."

There was a pause before Violet sighed. "…Very well." There was a rustling of fabric- when Abel dared to look, the alchemist had lowered her shirt, safely putting her somethings away. "Perhaps a bath will help me think." She then climbed the steps to the west wing's second floor, and stepped through.

Minze watched her master depart, before turning her attention to Abel. "As for you…" she began.

Abel blanched. Was she upset? It wasn't like he'd meant to look- everything had happened so quickly-

"I would ask that you treat any books you borrow with care," the maid continued. "The Promestein library was built over many generations, and contains volumes that are beyond priceless in value." Without another word, Minze turned, and followed in her master's footsteps.

For a few moments, Abel stood in stunned silence. He then opened Dragonslayer, trying to concentrate on reading the words within, and not let his mind wander back to the image of his host's pale, slender stomach, or her small, but decently round-

Abel snapped his book shut. Perhaps he would take up Fiann's offer after all.

The rain had finally stopped, but the skies were still hidden by a blanket of heavy clouds. Minze chose to take advantage of the break in the rain, heading to the nearby town of Grissom's Hill to restock the manor's pantry. A few of Abel's companions, wanting a change of scenery, elected to accompany her, as did Roland, to protect them on the road. Violet, Raine, Holly, and Abel himself chose to remain behind.

In front of the manor, on grass still slick with rain. Raine charged forward, swinging her baton. But with deftness that would have defied belief days before, Holly blocked the swing with her shield, before pushing the witch back. The witch stumbled, but Holly pressed her advantage and chased after her, swinging her shield's edge. Raine evaded; the mercenary swung again, and again, the witch evaded. But Holly overreached on her second swing, and stumbled, before falling on her face. But, she quickly climbed back on her feet, calling, "I'm okay!"

"I told you not to overreach like that, Jugs," Raine said, relaxing. "Your center of balance is a lot more forward than most people's." With a thought, her baton collapsed into a smaller form, and she hung it from her belt. "And what's this all about, anyway? You never train."

"Uh…" The mercenary began to stammer. "Well… being stuck inside, not able to help, I just… I just feel like I need to do something. I don't know how to explain it." She fiddled with the strap holding her shield to her arm, marveling at the absence of the usual clumsiness she had when handling small things.

The witch folded her arms over her chest. "I mean, I can't blame you. We've been cooped up for a whole week now. But, couldn't you just have gone with the others?"

But before Holly could say anything, the manor's front door opened, and Abel leaned out. "Raine, Holly! I just finished making lunch! You want any?"

"Yes please!" Holly called back, before running to the door. Raine followed, but not before pondering the strange shift in her companion's demeanor.

As his companions made their way to the dining room, Abel shut the door and descended the steps under the staircase into the cellar, and Violet's laboratory. It was surprisingly cramped, lined with shelves full of bottles and pouches- alchemical reagents, she had explained once. The alchemist herself was hunched over a table in the center of the stony room, peering into a strange device with a small amount of rubedo set under it- she'd called it a "microscope," a device similar to a spyglass that could make small objects appear much larger. "Hey, Violet. I made lunch for everyone," Abel said. But his host gave no sign that she had heard him. "Hey, Violet?" He reached out, and touched her.

She jumped slightly, and she glanced back, before returning her attention to her s. "Apologies. I thought I found something for a moment. Were you saying something just now?"

"I made lunch. Do you want any?"

Violet turned away from her device, eyes sparkling. "Yes, I very much would." Without waiting for his response, she darted past him and bounded up the steps.

A few minutes later, the four were seated at the table in the dining room, with Violet at its head. "Oh, it's so good!" Holly squealed, humming happily as she ate. "You should cook more often, Abel."

"I… I'm glad you like it," Abel replied, visibly sinking in his seat. His meal wasn't anything special- just two slices of bread with chicken and cheese between them, toasted on the stove, and to hear it being praised so highly was more than a little embarrassing.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile so much, Jugs," Raine said. "I'll have to start keeping an eye on you- wouldn't want another girl competing for Blue's affections."

"Wh-What are you talking about?" Holly stammered, face reddening.

The witch grinned. "I mean, I don't blame you. What girl wouldn't want a handsome boy to cook delicious food for them every day?"

"I said it isn't like that!" Holly's face turned even redder in an equal measure of both anger and embarrassment.

Violet ate, oblivious to the bantering between the witch and the mercenary. As she ate, she turned to abel and said, "Minze has prepared countless meals for me over the years, but never anything quite like this. …I like it. Could you perhaps share the recipe with Minze when she returns?"

"Uh… sure," Abel replied. It was a simple thing, something he'd learned just by watching Leah cook for Mordecai, though he debated whether or not to leave out the part where he'd used a clothes iron to evenly toast both bread slices. "…anyway, how is your analysis going?"

Violet sighed, setting her meal aside. "Not well."

That piqued the interest of Raine and Holly. "Why's that?" the witch asked.

"Ordinarily, no matter how finely an alchemist refines their processes, a certain amount of contamination will enter a mixture, either from the environment or through the process itself," Violet explained, resting her elbows on the table. "Certain tests can reveal these contaminants, and by studying these contaminants, one can learn where a substance was made, and possibly also how it was made. This rubedo is no exception, but the traces present in the sample are so minute that I haven't found enough to conduct a proper test." She hung her head. "If I had a larger sample…" Then, she looked up, rubbing her chin. "I will need to ask Minze for her thoughts when she returns. She may have some insight-"

A loud knock echoed through the manor, emanating from the foyer. "Oh, it sounds like everyone's back," Holly said.

But Violet didn't move, an apprehensive expression on her face. "Minze would have no reason to knock. Someone else is here." She then stood. "I will see to our visitor."

Abel stood as well. "I'll go with you." Abel didn't know why, but something felt… wrong. He doubted an ordinary robber or bandit would just knock on someone's front door, but letting Violet go by herself struck him as a bad idea.

The two made their way to the foyer. Again, a loud knock emanated from the front door. Visibly tense, Violet opened it. Just behind the door stood a woman, with pale skin and messy black hair that hung over her eyes, dressed in a long, tattered traveler's cloak colored a dark red. But what struck Abel about the stranger was her height- she was tall, even compared to Minze, his head only reaching her chest.

The woman's "gaze" turned to something behind the two, before shifting back to Violet. In a stony voice, she said, "…I see. You must be the master of the Promestein household."

Violet tensed. Abel quickly surmised the stranger must have seen the portrait of Valerian. "I am," the alchemist replied. "What business do you have with me?"

In a voice devoid of emotion, the stranger replied, "Master Guillaume sends his regards."

The pale woman raised her arm, exposing what he could only describe as a cannon in place of where her arm should have been, and aimed it at Violet. Instantly, Abel dove to the side, wrapping his arms around Violet and pulling her to the ground as a ball of fire shot from its muzzle. The fireball missed, flying across the foyer and exploding in a burst on the stairwell, scattering fire all up and down its length.

Before Abel or Violet could rise, the stranger stepped into the foyer with a heavy thud, the tile cracking underfoot. She aimed her cannon at the two, but then there was a deafening crack, and sparks flew from her elbow. The pale woman looked to the source, as did Abel- Raine stood in the doorway of the dining room, her Vajra fully extended and braced against her shoulder as she glared fiercely at the stranger. The pale woman almost mechanically aimed her cannon at Raine, but the witch was faster- fire erupted from the end of her Vajra with another deafening crack, and a burst of pink-red blood sprayed from the pale woman's back, splattering over Abel and Violet. The sight of it confirmed what Abel had known in the pit of his stomach the moment he'd laid eyes on the pale woman: she was a flesh golem. Just like Zoyin.

Another crack rang out, and another spray of rubedo splattered over Abel, this time from the golem's head. But it barely seemed to react, not even flinching as it aimed at Raine, and fired another ball of flame. Raine darted behind the door frame as the fireball struck the wall nearby, avoiding the flames that swept over the door.

Abel sprang to his feet with the flesh golem's attention away from him. He hadn't brought his sword, but at the moment, all he cared about was trying to keep the golem away from Violet. With a thought, the wings on his back ignited, and he flew at it, wrapping his arms around its midsection and trying to push it out through the front door. He thought he'd managed to catch the golem by surprise, but it didn't even budge- Abel may as well have tried to push over a stone pillar. And without a moment's hesitation, the golem grabbed the back of his neck with its other hand, and threw him against the tiled floor.

There was a crack, and pain surged through Abel's body; Abel wasn't sure if the crack had come from the tiles, or one of his bones breaking. He struggled to rise, spitting up what he sincerely hoped wasn't blood- through blurred vision, he saw that the golem wasn't aiming at him, as he expected. Instead, it was aiming at Violet. The alchemist stared up at the golem, not moving, not running, not doing anything other than staring, as if not able to understand what was happening. "Violet!" he called.

Then, a tiny figure emerged from within Abel's body. It flew at the golem's waist, lifting it with impossible ease before slamming it down into the foyer floor, throwing out dust and shards of tile. As she floated over the golem, Niel extended both hands toward it and shouted, " Angel Fire! "

Two jets of white flames spewed from her hands, washing over the golem. But even as it was bathed in flame, the golem stood, casting away its cloak. And looking at her uncovered form, Abel could understand why he had failed to move it. Seemingly the entirety of the golem's body had been replaced with dark metal, save for her head and patches of ghostly white skin on her right arm. Thin lines glowing with pink-red light flowed through its metallic limbs like veins; her knees bent backwards, like a satyr made of steel, but rather than hooves, her legs ended in two spikes that drove into the ground like nails.

The golem aimed up at Niel, firing several balls of fire. But the angel dived toward her, darting back and forth to avoid its fire, before grabbing the cannon. And with terrifying ease, the tiny angel swung the golem by the arm, lifting it off its feet and tossing it through the wall next to the front door, before flying back to Abel without even looking back. "Come on Abel, back on your feet!" Niel held out a hand, and Abel was bathed in a white light that soothed his pain, allowing him to stand.

There was a crash. Abel glanced over, expecting another golem- instead, a large dent appeared in the wall of the foyer next to the dining room door. With another crash, Holly broke through, shield raised, followed by Raine. "Abel!" she called, before quickly adding, "Uh, sorry!"

"I think we have bigger things to worry about," Raine said, bracing her Vajra against her shoulder.

A heavy thud drew Abel's attention. The golem was back on its feet, and had reentered the manor.

"Sim spasy nas usikh.… " Seven save us all, Holly said aloud, before asking, "Is that a flesh golem? Like the one you fought, Abel?"

"Yeah," Abel breathed, focusing as a sword of light appeared in his hand. He then said, "Niel, get Lailah and the others. We need all the help we can get."

"Got it!" Niel flew to the door. But the golem let her pass by, not even looking in her direction. Instead, its attention was turned to Violet. The alchemist was slowly rising, trembling, and completely oblivious to the danger she was in. In an instant, Abel flew at the golem, swinging his sword of light as it took aim. But the golem raised its cannon, blocking his swing. Abel pressed his blade against the woman's arm, the metal of her cannon beginning to glow a bright red, but as hard as he pushed, he couldn't seem to cut through. Through the fresh wound in its head, he could see a gleam of metal- was this thing's bones made out of metal, too? Through gritted teeth, he growled, "You're a flesh golem, aren't you? Just like Zoyin."

The golem's response was devoid of emotion, and any sign of strain: "I am under no obligation to answer any of your questions." It then shoved its arm forward, pushing Abel back, and off balance. It took aim, this time at him, but again, a crack rang out, and a spray of pink-white blood splattered from its fresh wound. It shifted its aim to Raine, and fired- the witch moved to evade it, but Holly darted in front of her, shield raised as if to block the ball of flame. There was no way she could stand against the fireball, and it would reach Holly before he could fly to her. Without sparing a moment to think if what he was about to do would work, Abel held out his hand toward Holly, and shouted "Dragonskin!"

The light of Abel's spell mixed with the light of the flames as the fireball washed over Holly. But as they dispersed, the mercenary remained standing, her skin overlaid with a pattern of glowing golden scales. She looked down at herself, as if surprised to find herself still standing, before she looked to the flesh golem, and charged at it with her shield raised. The pale woman fired two more fireballs, but Holly barely noticed as their flames washed over her, and when she closed the distance, she thrust her shield forward with an angry shout.

Again the golem raised its cannon to block the strike. Holly and the pale woman pushed, trying to force the other back, though Holly was quickly beginning to lose ground. Raine held her fire, presumably for fear of hitting the mercenary by mistake. But Abel had no such restraint. He charged, circling to the golem's right, and its empty hand. But when he swung at her, the golem's gaze instantly snapped to him, and it grabbed his arm with her free hand. Then, it swung his entire body into Holly, sending both sprawling. Abel looked, just in time to see the golem lift its metal foot over him, as if to crush him like an insect.

But at that moment, a fireball struck the golem, letting out a tremendous explosion that rattled Abel's bones and made the golem stumble. The fireball also let out a cloud of smoke as thick as a curtain. Something grabbed Abel, pulling him out of the smoke- he fought against it, but Raine's voice quickly said, "Hey, hey! Blue! It's okay! It's me!" Abel stopped fighting, letting the witch pull him out of the smoke, and into another room. It was spacious, filled with comfortable-looking chairs, a fireplace framed by two windows mounted on the far wall, two crossed swords without points mounted on a plaque set above it. A parlor, Violet had called it once.

And Violet was already inside. She was completely oblivious to him, mumbling nonsensically to herself. Then, the door behind Abel opened. Abel thought it was the golem, but it was Raine again, this time leading Holly into the room. The mercenary was breathing heavily, limping slightly, no doubt from where he had hit her.

"That was what you fought in Aglis, Blue?" Raine asked with an edge in her voice, aiming her Vajra at the door.

"No," Abel replied. "This one's a lot stronger."

Holly noticed Violet, still mumbling nonsense, and approached. "Hey. Are you okay?" But the alchemist didn't respond. Holly shook her. "Hey." No response. "Hey!" She didn't react even when Holly slapped her. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's in shock," Raine replied. "And she's in no shape to help us. We need to get her out of here before-"

At that moment, something crashed through the wall, making Holly shriek. Raine fired, but the golem barely seemed to notice as it stomped toward Violet. Abel charged, sword of light appearing in his hand. It raised its cannon to block the strike, but this time, Abel dispelled his sword, calling another one to his free hand, before thrusting it into the golem's stomach. But his blade glanced off the metal, leaving a scratch but nothing more. The golem then swung its arm at him, battering him aside before it once again took aim at Violet. Holly put herself between the alchemist and the golem, shield raised…

But then there was another crash, a sound of breaking glass as a figure clad in green leapt through one of the windows by the fireplace. In one swift motion, Minze stood, grabbed a sword from the plaque over the fireplace, and charged. The golem shifted its aim, firing at the newcomer. Its fireball struck its mark, but Minze barely slowed down, even as her flesh blackened and her apron and the sleeves of their jacket burned away. Once she closed the distance, the maid swung her massive sword with a speed that should have been impossible for a blade of that size. The golem blocked the swings with her cannon, but Minze struck with such speed that the golem had no opening to retaliate, and with such ferocity that the golem was driven back, first by one step, then a second.

But in spite of her strength, Minze's sword lacked the sharpness to cut through the golem's metal body. Then, there was a snap, and Minze's sword broke, the forward half spiraling away. Seizing this opening, the golem thrust its cannon into Minze's stomach. But rather than firing, a long metal spike shot out from its muzzle, piercing through the maid's stomach and out through her back. But the maid didn't cry out, or flinch, or show in any way that she had been wounded. Instead, without a moment's hesitation, she turned the broken sword in her hand and stabbed it directly into the golem's face. The golem had no time to retreat as the blade pierced through, just under its eye, and out through the back of its skull. Minze then grabbed the hilt in both hands and tore it upwards, cleaving through the golem's head and splattering pink-red drops of blood across the ceiling. The golem wavered…

…before pulling its cannon back and battering Minze aside, the split portion of its head flapping open and shut like the maw of a horrid beast. Somehow, it still wasn't dead. Abel focused, trying to call another blade of light, to be met with the sensation of hot nails being driven into his temples. How had he run out of mana so quickly? And if he couldn't use magic…

The golem once again aimed at Violet. But all at once, it shuddered, as a gold-and-silver arc cut its head from its shoulders. The golem staggered, before falling forward to reveal Roland, Durandal clutched in both hands. Warily, he stepped into the room, sword turned toward the flesh golem's body. "What manner of abomination is this?" he asked.

Before anyone could answer however, the whole manor shook. Abel realized that the fires the golem had started had been allowed to rage unchecked, and now the whole manor could fall down on their heads at any moment. Minze rose, and said calmly, "We need to leave," before crossing the room, slinging Violet- who was still mumbling incoherently to herself- over her shoulder, and cleared the broken glass from the window she'd leapt through. Before she climbed through however, she turned, and said, "Master Roland, please take the head with you, if you would."

"Eh, as you wish," the prince replied, grabbing the golem's severed head, if only reluctantly.

The group climbed out the window. Outside, Abel saw that the entire left side of the manor, the east wing, was swallowed by great swaths of flame, spitting up great plumes of sparks as the house's interior began to fall in on itself. The smoke of the flames mixed with the angry black clouds that roiled overhead, as if the clouds were being pulled through the earth through a funnel. The others were there, gathered at a safe distance from the heat and the flames near the crest of the hill, but they rushed to meet Abel and the others. "Abel!" Lailah called as she hurried toward him. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"What about that?" Seth asked, looking on as the manor burned. "All our supplies are in there!" Then, as if waiting for her words, the sky darkened further, and rain began to fall. The flames still burned, but shrank, hissing and spitting steam under the relentless torrent.

Setting the oblivious Violet down on the grass, Minze said, "Prince Roland, the head, please." The prince complied, turning over the severed head with visible relief. As Minze looked down at it, glaring, she asked the head coldly, "Who sent you?"

As pink-red blood dripped from its wounds, the flesh golem's head replied, "I am under no obligation to answer any of your questions."

Everyone- save for Minze, Abel, Claire, and Violet jolted at the head's words. "By Ilias, it's still alive!?" Roland said in disbelief.

Minze was undeterred by the head's response. "How did you find this place?"

"I am under no obligation to answer any of your questions," the head repeated.

"You won't get any answers out of that thing," Claire said. "Just get rid of it."

The head spoke for a third time, but this time, it said something new. "Destroy me if you wish. I have no reason to fear death. I can be replaced. Another will be sent. And another, until our mission is completed."

"We shall see," Minze replied coldly, before tossing the head toward the manor, into the still-burning flames.

Violet turned, absently watching the head fall into the flames. As her gaze lingered, her eyes widened, as if suddenly awakening from a trance. She immediately jumped to her feet and began to run toward the manor, but after only a few steps, Minze grabbed her by the waist, and held her tightly.

Twisting in the maid's grasp, the alchemist shouted, "Let… go of me!"

But Minze did not comply, her response calm and devoid of emotion: "I will not, My Lady."

"Minze, I order you to release me this instant!" Violet commanded.

But again, Minze did not obey. "I will not, My Lady."

"Minze, our family's life work is in that library," Violet pleaded. "I have to save it!"

But once again, Minze did not release Violet. "I'm sorry, My Lady. But I cannot allow you to endanger yourself in that way."

Violet said no more, only letting out small grunts as she tried to free herself from her maid's grasp, which eventually gave way to quiet weeping as she sank to her knees, burning her face in her hands. The fires had finally died away, leaving behind only a scorched, skeleton-like husk where the Promestein manor once stood.

Minze finally released Violet, now that the danger was passed, before shiftiung her attention to Abel. "Did it say anything?" she asked.

"W-What? Abel stammered, taken aback.

"The flesh golem" she said insistently. "Did it say anything to you?"

"Well, yeah," Raine replied. "You heard it for yourself."

"It… it did," Abel replied slowly. "Right before it attacked me and Violet. It said, 'Master Guillaume sends his regards.'"

"Master Guillaume?" Lailah asked.

Minze touched her chin. "Then it's just as Master Valerian feared. Guillaume Rouque is still alive, after all this time."

"That's a bit of a leap, don't you think?" Roland asked. "If this Master Guillaume is meant to be Guillaume Rouque, that would mean he's well over five hundred years old."

"Master Valerian was an alchemist without peer," Minze began. "But he admitted on more than one occasion that Mr. Rouque's skill was equal to, and even superior to his own in many places. If there is a means to artificially extend one's life through alchemy, Master Valerian had no doubt that Guillaume would one day find it."

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt you, but… are you… alright?" Holly stammered.

Minze was unbothered by the interruption. "If you are referring to this-" She unbuttoned the bottom of her shirt to expose her stomach. The wound the golem had given her was clearly visible, but… no blood leaked from it. A would like that would have been crippling, even lethal to an ordinary person, but it didn't seem to register to the maid at all. "…you have nothing to fear. I have endured worse."

Abel extended his hand, to heal the maid, but Niel stopped him, ordering, "Hold it, Abel." She turned to the maid, white light shining from her hands. "What are you?" she demanded. "Are you a flesh golem as well?" Around her, the others were preparing to draw their weapons.

Violet sprang up, putting herself between Minze and the others, despite not having any weapons. "Sie ist kein Fleischgolem! Nenn sie niemals so! " she shouted in anger. She's not a flesh golem. Don't you ever call her that.

But Minze placed a hand on Violet's shoulder, and stepped around her master. "It's alright," she said softly, before turning to the others. "You are correct in assuming that I am not human. But I am not a flesh golem. I am a homunculus, created by Valerian Promestein himself, to serve him and his house. And I have served the Promestein family faithfully for four hundred fifty-one years."