The Familiar Exhibition gets underway and Fouquet makes her move.
Also, the song you'll see in this chapter is 'Narayan', by The Prodigy.
I had quite a lot of fun picking out Michael's playlist for this story. Hope you folks are still enjoying yourselves!
The Exhibition
Kirche knocks on Tabitha's door and waits.
"Are you up yet? I hope you're ready for the Exhibition," Kirche says.
"Come in," Tabitha calls back softly.
The red-haired mage opens the door and peeks inside.
Tabitha lies on her bed in her long white nightgown next to an open tome, reading quietly from it. After several moments, Kirche bursts into the room.
"Good morning, Tabitha," she greets the younger girl with a smile. "I hope you have something fantastic planned for the Exhibition today!"
Tabitha doesn't say anything for several moments, lost in thought as she ponders something. Kirche waves a hand in front of Tabitha's face.
"Tabitha?"
The bespectacled girl simply utters a short breath and nods.
"I said, I hope you have something fantastic planned for the Exhibition today," Kirche repeats, her smile not fading in light of Tabitha's usual quietness.
"Sylphid will soar above everyone," Tabitha finally says with a tiny nod and the barest hints of a smile.
The Germanian raises a brow and smiles at her blue-haired friend. "Oh? Is that it? Sounds so-so..."
Tabitha shakes her head and says, "It's simple... but effective. Everyone likes dragons."
Kirche pats her friend on the shoulder and smiles. "I should've known you'd take such an approach," the redhead says warmly. "With your magic and your familiar, I'm sure you'll steal the show."
The Germanian fixes her gaze upon Tabitha sleepwear and sighs gently, smirking.
"Well, provided you change into your uniform and actually attend the show, that is," Kirche notes pointedly. "Unless you'd rather Princess Henrietta sees you in those."
Tabitha simply shrugs at Kirche's expression before returning to her book.
"I'll change after this chapter," the blue-haired teen replies in a matter-of-fact voice as she lazily turns another page of the tome. "Reading is more important."
The Germanian raises a bemused brow at this reply, and then breathes a deep sigh.
Piles upon piles of books fill the room. Most lie on the ground in a neat fashion. The others are found stacked atop each other on many shelves placed near the walls and bed. It is also obvious they are not common textbooks from the school: their bindings are different and each has a name inscribed on it. All of this creates the strong impression that her entire collection must have been painstakingly collected over the years.
Kirche shakes her head and suppresses a grin at the sight of Tabitha reading, which to her is an all too familiar sight.
"What are you reading anyway, Tabitha?" the Germanian asks, at least the smallest bit curious.
Tabitha stands up from her bed, with a sigh, her eyes not leaving her book, and makes her way to the wardrobe near the corner of the room.
"A book about runes," she answers in her usual stoic tone, opening up the wooden drawer and extracting her black cloaks and a few school supplies. "The one Professor Colbert was reading between between most of our lectures of last week."
Kirche purses her lips curiously and tries to recall which lectures the bespectacled girl may be referring to.
"Runes, you said? Between lectures?"
"Yes. Professor Colbert was reading this one book for most of last week. Did you not notice?" Tabitha asks, putting down her tome on the surface of her study desk as she turns around to face the taller student.
Kirche purses her lips curiously at this mention, trying again to recall. Tabitha notices her friend's frown and shakes her head, smiling a little.
"Well, he was," the bespectacled mage explains, pulling out her wand from her pockets.
Kirche stares into space for a brief moment. Then, her thoughts align.
"And I suppose you, seeing how intrigued he was with that book, just had to read it for yourself?" Kirche deadpans.
"That's right," Tabitha merely affirms. Turning her back, she then slips off her nightgown and begins changing. She takes her clothes from the dresser and puts them on. "Hidden writings, powers old forgotten; very intriguing."
The red-haired mage turns around and lets out a sigh, before closing the door behind her. On her way out, Kirche casually scans the various things scattered about Tabitha's room in a search of interesting subjects. Not finding a lustful novella among the bunch, she steps out.
Just then, two doors down in Louise's room, there comes a loud yell.
"Oh my goodness! I overslept!" Louise whines, and then moans.
"...I tried waking you, but you kept insisting on five more minutes, Louise," Michael returns dismissively.
The voices fall quieter and Kirche can't make them any longer.
Raising a hand to her mouth, she chuckles.
"I see those two are awake, too," the Germanian quips smugly.
Making her way down the hall, Michael comes stumbling out of Louise's door, fixing his hair. Upon seeing Kirche waiting with an expectant grin, the otherworldly gent stares at her evenly. He looks fairly awake and well-presented.
"Oh. Kirche," he sighs. "You alright this morning? Excited for the big show?"
At his greeting, she turnd up the heat in her voice.
"I'm fine... and yes. What is it you're planning?" she inquires with her most darling of smiles, and a wink.
Michael smiles smugly and extends his arm outward. Then, an orb of fire ignites in his opened palm.
"Figure I'll see how far I can push things for an audience," the familiar answers with an honest smile. "Being a showman kinda runs in my family, actually. Well, in a manner of speaking."
This response isn't exactly what Kirche was expecting, but Michael's tone seems earnest and resolute. A moment later, the blonde closes his palm and snuffs out the flame. Kirche nods.
"Be sure you don't overdo it, okay, dear?" she asks, still wearing a kind smile.
They both look down the hallway as Louise appears in the doorway, her hair messy and her uniform looking rather creased.
Kirche grins madly at the sight, and Michael just gives an awkward chuckle.
Louise takes a deep breath as she tries to gather her thoughts.
"Overslept..." the petite mage grumbles, rubbing her temples with her hands.
"I can see that, Louise," Kirche hums, her lips rising into a teasing smirk.
The pinkette exhales and purses her lips in frustration.
"Ugh! Just... leave me be, von Zerbst!" Louise snaps, snatching Michael's arm into hers and pulling him close. "My familiar and I have to eat before the Exhibition starts..."
She then begins half-walking, half-dragging Michael down the hall to a stairway leading exit of the dorm building. Kirche simply watches the two with an entertained grin and says nothing whilst the two are in sight.
Once they turn the corner, however, she hums heatedly.
"Mark my words, Louise, I'll win your familiar over one of these days," Kirche coos with a hopeful expression. "...It's Too bad I have that silly maid to contend with, though."
Tabitha walks out of her room fully-clad in her black cloak.
"You have more with than just her to contend with," the blue-haired girl reveals, her eyes fixed on her book about runes.
Kirche glances towards her with surprise. "Oh? And just who else must I contend with for my darling Michael's heart, hmm?" she wonders. "Another servant, perhaps?"
"Montmorency," Tabitha answers, turning the page of her book.
Shock washes over Kirche's face for but a moment.
Stunned, all she can do is blink.
"The two kissed out by the recreation area," Tabitha explains, beginning down the hallway with her eyes still very much trained on her tome. "I heard Guiche screaming about it from my room."
In a mere couple seconds, the shock fades into something resembling hope mixed with amusement.
Kirche feels a sort of giddiness come over her.
"Oh, did they now?"
"You should give up," the stoic mage recommends as she goes. "Too much effort."
Kirche narrows her eyes somewhat, and a grin forms across her face.
"Don't be silly," the Germanian whispers, stifling a squeal. "Us von Zerbsts love the thrill of a chase."
Tabitha remains silent and continues reading while the duo walk.
"...Tell me, Tabitha, what would you do in this situation?" Kirche asks with a warm smile.
"Just kiss him, and tell him I like him," the girl replies plainly. "Get it over with."
Direct and to the point. The usual Tabitha approach.
Kirche can only chuckle.
"I'm sure you'll make enchanting wife for any husband with such romantic gestures," the redhead snarks good-humouredly, feeling at least somewhat reassured of the fact that Montmorency is a rival and not some unknown commoner. "Especially on your wedding night."
Tabitha simply peers over her shoulder in the direction of her Germanian friend, and exhales quietly.
"You care too much for those things," Tabitha remarks, her expression still stoic.
But Kirche smiles even more at this.
"Unlike a certain person here, I am fond of attention and showing affection," she returns, peering at the other girl's blue eyes.
Tabitha closes her book and turns her gaze forwards again.
"...I've read plenty of books on romance," she finally responds in a quiet voice. "My wedding night won't be a problem."
The two women come upon a flight of stairs leading downstairs, and begin descending.
Kirche wears a broad smile at Tabitha's admission.
She knew she saw the Gallian reading a romantic novella between classes a week or so back!
I stand by the entryway of the backstage tent as the Familiar Exhibition is well underway. Girls and boys bustle about, going over routines, polishing their performances, and making final preparations to wow Henrietta and the teachers with their familiars.
People move past me left and right, seeming to pay me no mind. Aside from my brown cloak, I fit in so very well with all the others that are running around.
I watch and I listen.
"Next, we have Miss Tabitha and her familiar, Sylphid," Headmaster Osmond announces a bit later as I raise my eyes skyward. "All students, parents, and friends shall direct your attention above, if you would please."
A petite girl with blue hair and glasses cleaves through the air on the back of a massive dragon with seemingly clear-blue scales, horns, and wide wings. She leaps from the dragon's back, and descends neatly onto the stage. Then, she gives a polite bow.
The crowd around us suddenly goes wild. Clapping. Whistling. Yelling.
Instructors and parents alike leap to their feet and wildly cheer. It's like she's a character out of one of those fantasy movies I watched at the cinema with my parents back in the day.
Eventually, the crowd dies down and the girl I now know as Tabitha steps off the stage.
Whistling, I glance Louise's way.
"Seriously don't think I can match a performance like that, Princess," I inform her.
Louise just rolls her eyes with a quiet sigh.
"Just do what you can, Michael. Give them something to applaud at the very least," she encourages me before walking off towards the back of the backstage area to presumably congratulate our classmate.
And, this is my cue.
Slipping a stealthy earphone into my ear, I step onto the stage.
Then, facing the audience, I clear my throat loudly.
Just treat it like the nights you streamed on YouTube, Mikey. Switch on the charisma!
"Michael DeSliva, ladies and gents, at your service," I greet the audience with a polite bow and a kind smile.
I find the audience all seem a little unsure and their lips moving like they're whispering amongst themselves. As it is, I can only make out a select few.
Still, I won't let them unnerve me.
Not when I brought my music out here with me.
Slipping a hand into my trouser pocket, I press my finger roughly around where I know the 'Play' button is on my Ipod screen.
An electronic rock track with hefty bass begins pounding in my ear.
My body relaxes and I'm ready to go.
Breathing in and out, I shut my eyes and extend one of my arms.
Focus on the music, Mikey boy.
"If you believe the western sun is falling down on everyone
And you feel it burn, don't try to run
And you feel it burn, your time has come."
Snapping my fingers, I spark up.
Swirls and tendrils of orange and gold and yellow dance around my fingers as I sway and step about on stage. Like fire, the ribbons weave this way and that around my outstretched arm and then upwards towards the sky.
I re-open my eyes.
Unlike my practice with Louise yesterday, I'm in perfect control.
And, unlike my duels against Mott and Guiche, I'm not hurting.
God knows how, but I'm doing this shit!
Flames as hot as the bright orange and gold ribbons begin to follow in the paths of my dancing fingertips. Yet, I scarcely give the fiery spirals a second thought. My entire attention is concentrated entirely on the music.
"You feel another energy and I feel a power growing
You feel another energy and I feel a power grow
You feel another energy and I feel a power grow."
This is how they often felt when I was streaming at home.
Like my insides were boiling. Like my lungs were made of air.
Like everything was coming alive.
Free from the everyday shit life threw at me. Free from the weight.
It feels incredible.
Now is the time for something I've been wanting to try since yesterday.
"If you believe the western sun is falling down on everyone
If you're breaking free and the morning's come
If you would know your time has come."
Increasing the power, I'm already projecting, I throw one hand over the other, then the reverse.
The golden, spiral tendrils, followed by oranges and yellows like tongues of fire, snap and writhe ferociously in the morning sky.
And when they do, the crowd gasps.
Many shift backwards like they're scared it's about to come down and burn them.
Holding the pace, I feel the heat of the flames as they push outward. I maintain the perfect balance of cooling myself down via the Guardian's Mark, enough that I'm not hurt.
Not that I know how I'm doing it, I just am.
Time to wrap it up, though.
The last thing I actually want to do is lose control.
Eyes closed and index finger at the sky, I spin with one final movement.
Once more, the audience gasps.
Then, for the finale, I let the flames dissipate and I plant my feet down firmly on the ground.
And, as I do, the track finishes.
"All right," I exclaim breathlessly, reaching up a hand to wipe the sweat off my forehead. "If you enjoyed that, let me hear it!"
"...Whoo!" a lone voice starts up. "Great job, Familiar!"
More and more join the guy until soon most of the audience are cheering!
Well. Just goes to show that things in Halkeginia aren't that different from home, the reactions are just better somehow.
Smiling smugly, I give a deep bow.
The applause and cheers intensify. Several of the spectators whistle and stomp on the ground until I walk off of the stage.
It's isn't as intense an applause as Tabitha got, but hey, I'll take it!
As soon as I'm off of the stage, I stumble dizzily into my cloak and brace my hands on the wooden table to support myself.
My pulse thrums heavily in my ears and I'm trying to keep myself from passing out.
"Yep, there're still hard limits to this crap..." I mumble to myself, huffing.
Deep breaths. Breathe.
Right. Not dead or burned to a crisp.
"How was that?" I pant, smiling through the slight stings of pain as a satisfied Louise reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to help stabilize me.
"Good! Really, really good. That was just like a miracle... A miracle..." the pinkette voices quietly, her breathing very uneven.
Louise stares at me with wide-eyed worry. "You don't look so good, though, Michael."
I straighten up.
A sudden bolt of pain goes up my leg at the movements. I bite my lower lip to hide the discomfort.
"I'm fine, I'm just exhausted from that performance..." I mumble, finally regaining control.
I keep pushing down the pain and keep my smile up, hopefully masking any doubt on my face.
Louise frowns, bringing her arms around my middle.
"Let me get you a chair, idiot," she explains with worry as she drags me over to one of the empty chairs placed all around the backstage area.
We pass Tabitha on the way.
Noticing my expression, she peers straight at me for a moment and smiles softly.
I smile back at her.
"Think you won the crowd vote there, trust me," I compliment.
Louise plops me into the seat and my body moans in appreciation.
When she notices Tabitha, the pink-haired girl returns the bluenette's smile.
"Congratulations, Tabitha! That was amazing!" my mistress states enthusiastically.
I nod in agreement.
Tabitha just shrugs.
"...Thank you," she says quietly.
Exhaling tiredly, I slump back into my chair.
"Don't mention it," I utter, sitting back comfortably and closing my eyes.
The solitary remaining guard protecting the Academy doorway's vault drops before a soundless blast of magic from the tip of Fouquet's staff.
The entrance, previously protected by a small squadron of soldiers, is now clear for access.
"On to the deed," Fouquet grins devilishly underneath her disguise.
She steps past her unconscious body and enters the entryway, making certain the double-doors remain open so as not to leave a sound of them closing. It would definitely alert anyone inside that there is a change of security, and her plan would be done for.
The staccato of the witch's boot clack down the marble corridor as she jogs down it with haste. No more delay. Her entire plan - nay, her whole life's purpose for so many years - resides past a multitude of these very doors.
"There you are..." she hisses softly.
Pulling a ring of ornate keys from her belt-pouch, Fouquet slowly places the numerous steel instruments into the set of keyholes along the ornate archway.
She listens to the sharp snaps of the wooden tumblers clicking with her beating heart.
After the next lock comes loose, the oak doors swing wide.
"Excellent," she utters with joy. "Time to get to work."
A single, wide staircase leads down a broad, low, cement-floored room filled with a plethora of trinkets.
Sitting at the room's centre is a cobweb-covered box and what looks to be an egg with an almost leathery shell. She recalls overhearing a brief conversation between Osmond and Colbert about such items being here.
"An unhatched dragon's egg," she utters, smirking under her hood.
It matters not, however. She sees only what she's come for.
With as little time as she has to work with, she wastes no time striding over to the ornately-jewelled chest beside the egg. Using the butt-end of her staff, she applies excessive force and breaks through the bronze seal protecting the chest from unwanted attention.
Once the seal is nothing but mere scraps on the floor, Fouquet tosses the lid of the chest to the side and is greeted with a strong, pale white glow.
Her eyes narrow. She winces.
But only slightly.
After letting her eyes adjust to the harsh light, she regards wonderfully crafted wooden staff placed in the centre of the chest.
The weapon's golden jewel glimmers innocently, as if tempting her to take it.
The wood is carved in a swirl-like pattern and gently dusted over with a gloss of silver paint, then adorned with four separate, yet beautifully crafted jewels. A ruby, a sapphire, and two emeralds.
Beside the staff sits a singular black glove made of magically woven silk and an extremely high-quality fabric that seems to resonate magical energy all of its own.
Fouquet gazes lovingly at the items and hums gently.
"The Staff of Destruction and its matching artifact, the Coordinator Glove," she speaks in a deepened voice.
Eyes on her prize, the wizard throws off the hem of her cloak and takes the staff into her hand.
And, just as she does, the chamber doors slam closed behind her.
Fouquet turns, startled.
Out from the dark shadows of a cluster of antique furniture, Osmond's little lapdog strolls toward her. Eyes narrowed; he pushes the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He holds his short staff before him in his dominant hand and points to her with his free hand.
Scoffing, Fouquet stands.
"Why, good afternoon, Jean. Expecting me, were you?" the criminal asks cheerfully, tucking her staff beneath her arm and extending both hands out invitingly.
Despite taking a polite stance, Professor Colbert's expression is anything but welcoming.
"Return the staff and surrender, yourself. There is nowhere for you to go," the bespectacled, instructor attempts to reason. "Unless you intend to go through me, of course."
Fouquet chuckles.
"Just how long have you had your suspicions, hmm?" she returns easily.
Colbert remains tight-lipped, but his very expression tells Fouquet everything she needs to know.
The thief nods approvingly.
"Long enough, then," she concludes with a short bow of her head. "Very well."
A handful of guards is one thing. Taking on Jean Colbert is another entirely.
Fouquet needs an exit. And she needs one now.
Thankfully, a wall should suffice.
Raising her staff, the lady thief cries out a spell in a booming voice.
A flash of powerful magic rips straight through the stone walls and opens a new exit outside.
Within seconds, Fouquet runs for the newly made exit.
"Stop, Fouquet!" commands Colbert.
Fouquet stops just ahead of the hole for a brief moment.
A long drop awaits her should she jump.
Or so it would, if she didn't possess such a powerful familiar.
"Farewell, Professor," the thief then returns with another laugh, stepping off the edge of the jagged hole.
Whilst Fouquet falls, an almighty clay golem erupts from the ground and stretches its massive clay arm for its master.
Landing perfectly, the mage adjusts her cloak and repositions on the creature's shoulder.
Then, after clapping her hands together twice in a rhythmic fashion, he monstrous earthen familiar rushes toward the Academy's wall with immense speed.
Glancing back for an instant, the thief smiles for Colbert.
"The Staff of Destruction... It is finally in the hands of those deserving of its power," she declares with immense glee. "Victory is mine."
A loud explosion has me nearly falling out of my chair!
Startled, I spring up. The pain from my performance shoots through my body. I end up staggering.
As I stumble forward, Louise stands to reach for my chest.
Tabitha, who is still with us, turns her eyes outside
"I'll investigate," the bluenette grunts quietly, breaking into a jog and leaving us alone.
Rendered speechless, Louise helps me toward the tent's entryway, and together, we step through.
My eyes damn near bulge out of their sockets at what I find outside!
A towering, rock-looking monster bulldozes its way clean through the Academy's outer wall.
"...The fuck is that...?!" I exclaim, inhaling sharply whilst I hold my side.
Tabitha, standing a short ways ahead of us, lets out a sharp whistle.
Suddenly, her dragon familiar swoops in and touches down with a flap of its giant wings.
The blue-haired girl then mounts the mythical creature and gives its side a gentle pat.
"After it, Sylphid," Tabitha utters simply, as the dragon throws itself skywards and after the golem.
The pain wracking my body intensifying, I heave out a deep breath and fall to my knees.
"Michael!" Louise yelps, supporting me as best she can despite being smaller. "Be careful! You pushed yourself too hard during the Exhibition."
"Don't worry, Princess. Just keep ahold of me and I'll be alright," I assure her, forcing a pained smile.
By now, said Exhibition is breaking up and a group of instructors are rushing over to see what's going on.
Glancing upward, I notice Professor Colbert standing by a huge hole in the nearest tower wall.
He's glaring at the rock monster's back with enough hatred to make me shudder.
As for me, though, I'm out of steam.
Holding onto Louise just a little bit tighter, I watch as the rock monster gets smaller and smaller. Even Tabitha and her dragon aren't able to catch it.
"Well, this sure as Hell wasn't part of the program," I say, shaking my head. "And after I put on my best show, too."
Forcing a weak, almost fearful smile, Louise hugs me for a second.
"Be quiet, Michael," she reprimands me gently. "Now isn't the time."
I nod in a wordless reply.
And to think, I said something eventful would crop up whilst Louise and I laid together trying to sleep last night.
Shaking my head, I let out a small and grim chuckle.
Talk about wishing I'd called it wrong.
To be continued...
Feel welcome to leave some feedback and share your thoughts if you enjoyed the chapter!