Hello, lovely readers! How have you been?
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And thank you, reader, for supporting this story through your hits!
Illumi's points of view will come back soon, I assure you, so there's no need to worry! Oh, and I haven't forgotten about the Hisoka one-shot I promised, I'm still working on it, I'm just a little bit busy writing new chapters for Cataclysm and my other story as well. I plan on finishing it soon, so stay tuned for any updates!
Please do not forget: updates take place every Monday and Friday from 12pm to 5 pm PST!
See you,
—Cherry
The apprentice butler darted towards Medea. Her cane rose behind her back, aiming for the other's head.
The thief, noticing the proximity between herself and the object, raised her arms. The chakrams clinked. Her palms ached when the cane struck the weapons, but at least she had avoided the intense blow and also caused a minimal fissure on the smooth material.
The girl frowned.
In the blink of an eye, Medea spun her arms, deepening the contact of her blades against the cane. A loud creak echoed through the forest. The girl widened her eyes when the object slipped from her grasp and fell to the soil, utterly broken.
She jumped back in an attempt to make distance between her and the invader, furious and confused. She certainly wasn't expecting that to happen.
Medea smiled. There was the opening she had been waiting for. She charged forward. The chakrams shone under the shimmering sunlight as they flew ahead of Medea, directed to the girl's head.
She deflected from the attack in the last seconds, but the blades were quick enough to cut off two tufts of hair before returning to the thief's gloved fingers. She held her breath as she stared at the curls on the ground.
"Once again I ask you to let me through. I don't wish to harm you." Medea stated and placed the weapons on her belt to prove a point.
That only seemed to infuriate the girl even more.
She advanced against the woman with only her strength as her weapon. She punched Medea's stomach, causing her body to bend forward due to her instant shortness of breath.
As she tried to regain her breath, another sudden attack of the apprentice butler struck her, and another, and another, until she was dizzy enough to be kneeled in the jaw. A bitter, metallic taste invaded her mouth. Her arm collided with a tree trunk and she blinked, hoping to stabilize her hazy vision.
Did that brat really strike my jaw? Her body trembled. That could have knocked me out for good if I hadn't been wearing this mask.
Outraged, Medea swallowed the coppery saliva and looked up again.
She was truly glad she did because, the next moment, she was dodging a kick to the head. Using her new position to her advantage, Medea grabbed the outstretched leg and twisted it before pushing the butler away, just enough to win some space back.
Still somewhat dizzy, Medea took the brass knuckles from her belt and put it on. She stared at the girl, who was panting as much as she did.
Then, she ran.
There was little to no time for her to react as Medea rotated her body as kneeled her ribs, sending her flying across the muddy path. She grunted, but got up and ran back to the thief, kicking and punching as fast as a bolt.
Medea dug her fingers into the girl's shoulders, locking her in place, and heatbutted her as hard as she could. A pained whine escaped her lips, but it wasn't as if she cared — she had asked her to let her in politely. The girl fell to the ground when she repeated the action, but she didn't stop. She sat on her abdomen and punched her face.
Blood sprayed everywhere. Her gloves, her arms, her mask… More blood dripped from her previously injured nose and the side of her face, smearing the grass below them. The butler raised her arms to defend herself, but Medea continued to attack her. And then again, and again, until her silvery brass knuckles became coppery.
She was about to land a final punch when the girl fainted, her arms falling next to her bruised head.
Her face, so pubescent, still caught in that weird childish-but-slightly-grown phase, reminded her of Alluka.
Alluka…
She was the same age as that girl. Probably knew her, too.
What if she was someone important to her or Killua? Was it really worth killing her even though she was just following orders?
She looked at her bloody gloves. At the young girl's bruised face.
Medea sighed.
No, it wasn't.
She placed the girl in a sitting position against the small wall where they'd met a few minutes ago; it was not much, but that was the most she could do at that moment. She couldn't take too long at that place — the High Priestess had said something about dragons devouring their prey at night, she couldn't risk her mission's success.
She had no time to waste.
Medea stared at the path ahead and took a deep breath to assure herself of her decision and followed the trail, her hand pressing the region of her stomach that had been bruised to try and relieve the pressure.
By the way the shadows of the trees were located and the increasing heat, it should've been around midday or one in the afternoon, at most. Good. She had enough time to search for the Scroll of Tchingsen and get out of there before Kurapika alerted Killua about where she was.
There was no need for anyone to be worried about her; she was a grown woman and certainly knew how to take care of herself.
Medea climbed a tree to maintain her original plan of not being seen by anyone and, at the same time, to keep an eye on everyone around her.
She advanced along the way for almost an hour and a half until she saw two figures from afar. A woman, dressed in fancy clothes and a hat full of flowers, talked to a black-haired child, who wore a dark kimono and stared at their own feet as they walked. It seemed to be a one-sided conversation.
Approaching as much as she could and trying not to be noticed, Medea watched the duo with curiosity, taking care not to make the same mistake that had indicated her position earlier.
The lady in the puffy dress had a visor over her eyes and waved a delicate lilac fan, calling the girl (or boy, she couldn't tell due to the distance), who turned to her immediately after. "Oh Kalluto, I'm so excited for tonight! It'll be a divine moment, won't it?" The woman's voice was shrill and sweet, Medea found it slightly annoying.
"Indeed, mother." Replied the boy without much excitement. "Do you think Killua will come?" Medea frowned, and paid even more attention to the conversation that unfolded in front of her; if it involved Killua, perhaps they had informations that would benefit her in the midst of that unknown place.
The mother sighed dramatically and moved the fan faster, one hand going to her chest.
"I'd like to say yes, Kalluto, but you know how your brother's been acting..." She smiled, apparently excited. "He's becoming so cruel and cold towards us, it makes me proud to see the young man he has become, even if he is not here. He will most certainly be the greatest leader of our family!"
Kalluto stared at his mother for a few seconds and frowned lightly, his fists clenching tightly around the fan he held before facing his shoes again.
"Does he even know about tonight's event?" He asked.
"Of course! Illumi left an invitation for him during the Hunter Association's Annual Ball."
Illumi…
She widened her eyes as she recognized the name. Could this be the same person who inspired Alluka's empty gaze?
She was almost one-hundred percent sure of it. It was a name too rare to belong to two people at once at the same place. Could it be one of the family's friends? Or maybe an employee? Her brows furrowed. But then, it would mean that an acquaintance of the siblings' had been at the Hunter's Association's Annual Ball.
How come this person was around them and none of them noticed it? She was sure the Zoldyck siblings would have spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
But then again, maybe not even them had paid attention to him, otherwise Alluka would have told her about it afterwards.
That is, unless this said acquaintance had appeared at all.
He could have simply put the invitation in their room before leaving without a trace.
Plausible enough for someone connected to such a secretive family.
"I hope he shows up." Muttered the boy as he put some black locks behind his ear.
The resemblance between him and the siblings she already knew were visible; they all had the same prominent chin, the same upturned nose and thick eyelashes. Their blood ties were undeniable. But this boy, Kalluto, had a sad glow in his rosy eyes that she didn't see in the other siblings. Was there something wrong with him?
"Hm? What did you say, darling?"
"That it's almost time we started getting ready to welcome the guests, mother." He lied, his voice serene, causing Medea to smile.
"But already?" She pressed a button next to her display and breathed surprise. She grabbed the child's hand and pulled it. "Oh no! We're almost late! Oh, Father will complain about my lack of punctuality! No, no, no, we have to get there as soon as possible!"
Medea followed them along a path that they seemed to know well. It was narrow and anyone passing by would be unable to acknowledge it as a proper path, although perhaps that was precisely why the region was covered by vegetation. When they stopped at a dead end, she mimicked them.
There was a thick, completely twisted trunk that rested against the mountain rocks, surrounded by other trees and plants and covered in ivy. The mother stuck her delicate hand behind the wood, and the rock, which was, in fact, a door, slid to the side opposite of the tree, allowing their passage.
They entered the dark space and the door closed again, muffling any conversation or noises they made.
Medea waited until she was sure they were gone to approach it and repeat the action, sticking her right hand into space and groping blindly in search of the button pressed by the woman. Upon finding the rocky surface that distinguished itself from all the others, Medea pressed it lightly and obtained the same result as Mrs. Zoldyck.
A cold gush of air blew her hair, bringing the scent of menthol to her nostrils. She bit her lower lip. Well, at least it seemed clean.
Passing through the door, she was greeted by an extensive corridor with a gigantic staircase at the end. She followed the poorly lit passage carefully, afraid to step where she shouldn't and end up indicating her position to the family.
Perhaps they didn't think anyone would find this shortcut, or maybe she was just being really, really lucky, but there were no traps anywhere she stepped. That didn't mean she could relax, though.
She was still in enemy territory, she had to stay alert.
Climbing the stairs, Medea tried to occupy her mind with something other than her uneasiness, so she decided to count the steps.
One. Two. Three.
Ten.
Twenty.
Forty.
One-hundred and fifty six.
She lost count somewhere after two-hundred and twenty-four.
It was only many steps later that she finally reached the top of the staircase and Medea allowed herself to relax once again.
On the other side of the iron door, quick steps could be heard. She cautiously opened the door and was surprised to see not the inside of the mansion, but rather a large ballroom full of tables beside an enormous garden.
Sneaking through the pillars' shadows, Medea watched the rushed employees, the porcelain plates being stacked in rows, the crystal glasses being defogged, silver cutlery being polished.
Medea smiled, enchanted.
Everything there was so full of luxury and wealth, it was impressive. She'd never been to a place this beautiful before.
Why don't Alluka and Killua live here with the rest of their family? It looks like a dream!
She shook her head. No. She was there for a really important motive, she had to focus. Her purple eyes scanned the place, trying to find the place she needed to be.
To the Northwest was the Zoldyck Mansion, imposing and obscure, but as aesthetically rich as its ballroom.
Running as fast as possible so as not to be noticed, Medea got out of the ballroom and passed through the garden. There were huge ivy-like walls surrounding it, creating a sort of maze, but there were no flowers in sight. How disappointing.
When she reached a door and entered it, Medea sighed, relieved.
She was officially inside the Zoldyck Mansion.
The second step is complete. Now I have to find the scroll and get out unnoticed.
The kitchen was well lit and different aromas filled her nostrils, both citrusy and sweet, bitter and salty; everything seemed tempting, especially after not eating for almost seven hours.
It seemed the Scroll of Tchingsen wasn't the only thing she'd be stealing from the Zoldyck family.
She took a cherry muffin from the tray and entered the cleaning room down the hall, taking care not to draw anyone's attention as she locked the door.
Lifting the mask just enough, she shoved half of it into her mouth and hummed with delight as she felt the delicate, but intense taste dominate her tongue. She almost didn't chew, practically devouring everything until she felt satisfied, and regretted not stealing another one from the tray.
After that, Medea simply wiped her marshmallow-dirtied lips with her own tongue and lowered the mask again, unlocking the door so as not to raise suspicion.
Suddenly, a loud crash resounded and people rushed through the hallway as someone was sternely scolded on the other side of the walls. As people crowded on the corridor on her left, Medea quietly climbed the steps leading upstairs.
Logically, people avoided leaving valuable items in areas that could easily be searched by guests or employees, so the probability of the Scroll being on a floor other than the first was immense.
The second floor's corridors were cold and gray, with no sign of happiness or comfort, like a death row. No matter how much she walked or the direction she chose, she only found more and more empty corridors; there was no decoration, family portraits, paintings, nothing at all. She couldn't even notice any odors!
Did the Zoldyck family even live at the mansion?
Perhaps this was just a summer house or an important-events-only kind of place, since she didn't see anything that made it feel like a home to someone. It looked more like a maze than anything else.
Suddenly, contrary to all her expectations, she felt a strong perfume. Chrysanthemums and burnt poppies.
Entering the room where the smell created a path to, she sighed and analyzed the space around her. It was deprived of any sense of personality like everything else in that damned mansion, but still rich and elegant enough to be acceptable. Minimalist, even. In a corner of the room, there was a huge suitcase and a purse, all of which were made of dark red leather. She approached the luggage and placed it on the soft mattress to open it.
The suitcase was full of clothes and shoes, while the purse had the most diverse types of makeup and jewelry, but no sign of any Scrolls. She had just put it back in place when the door opened and a woman with hair as golden as the sun walked through.
Medea jumped, and so did the woman, both taken aback with a new presence in the room.
Then, the blonde stared at her from head to toe. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?"
"I came to help you at Mrs. Zoldyck's request." Medea replied, calmly.
She nodded and combed her curls with her fingers lazily. Brown eyes landed on the chakrams on her belt and the thief tried to keep her posture indifferent. "I suppose you came because of the threat they detected at the Southern entrance, right?" She asked, pointing to the weapons. Medea frowned under the mask, uncertain whether the threat was her or perhaps someone else, but limited herself to nod. The woman sighed and walked as far as she was, her footsteps echoing firmly through the room. "Tell me, the other employees haven't put their masks on yet. Why are you already wearing yours?"
"I wanted to get ahead of myself so I could focus on helping you, ma'am."
The blonde snickered.
"You're lying." She hummed, causing Medea to freeze in her place.
"Excuse me?"
"Only the guests will wear masks, not the employees." The woman smiled, her slightly sharp teeth shining with the light coming through the window. "Besides, I can see your dirty gloves and smell of blood emanating from your clothes. You were the one who tried to kill the young apprentice down there, weren't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She lied, nervous about the possibility that all of her progress had meant nothing.
"Oh, I can't wait to see what the Zoldyck family will do to you! Tonight's such a special night, and I believe I have the opportunity to draw their attention all to myself!" She giggled. "Let me just—"
Before she could turn around and ask for help, Medea covered her mouth with her hand. She had to muffle a scream when the sharp teeth pierced her gloves and the woman thrashed around, trying to free herself, so Medea had no other option but to hit her head against the white wall as hard as she could, marking it with makeup and blood.
When the blonde stopped squirming, Medea realized she had blacked out. Oh. Was she dead? She took a hand to the other's pulse, her body collapsing on the floor. Nope. Still alive.
Letting go of the arm, she got closer to the door and closed it after making sure there was no one around.
Taking a sock from the collapsed woman's suitcase, Medea covered her mouth, tied her wrists and ankles with a rope she had on her utility belt, and shoved her unconscious body inside the wooden wardrobe. Surprisingly, it was wide enough to hide two or three more people in there. She'd keep that in mind in case she needed a place to hide.
Medea took off her peacock mask, inhaling deeply.
The clock on the headboard indicated that it was half past five in the afternoon. There was no way she could leave unnoticed now, not after the guest had told her about the apprentice butler.
The Zoldyck family knew about her. She would be killed if they captured her.
But leaving now wasn't smart either, everyone would be waiting to capture her at the gates or somewhere else in the mountain.
"Shit, what do I do?" She whispered. "I'm so fucked. So, so fucked…"
She had to stay. It was the safest choice — not that she had many others.
She massaged her nose bridge, weighing her options.
One, she could try running around the mansion aimlessly in search of the scroll. The risk of being caught immediately was quite high. She was pretty sure she would be killed on sight.
Two, she could pretend to be a slightly late guest and sneak among the guests to try to discover the information she needed before she stole the scroll. The thing was: they could detect her earlier than expected and she would be killed before she could even find any hints about it.
None of them sounded appealing at all, still, the second seemed safer. At least in that case, she'd be hidden behind another mask in the midst of all those people.
Without a second thought, she walked to the bathroom and immediately undressed, throwing her clothes and mask on the floor as she entered the shower. Getting rid of sweat was all she needed at that moment — besides eating, of course. She quickly dried up and put on the robe that was available, collecting her dirty clothes and putting them on the bedside table. She'd take care of them later on the way out.
"I'm going to have to wear one of her dresses, let's hope it fits me..." She muttered to herself.
Opening the suitcase, she stared at the outfits. There were so many options. Her hand found a smooth fabric and she pulled it out, eyes widening as she stared at it.
"Found you."
After she put it on, she looked at the full-length mirror.
The blue satin dress was long and draped, and shone like a jewel under the lights. It had thin straps and a cowl neckline that was slightly tight, outlining her breasts and making it more prominent than it was supposed to, but fortunately not to the point of looking vulgar. Her back was exposed, detailed with straps and small pearls. The flowy skirt made up for it, though. It gave the look a certain aspect of sobriety she knew old-money families enjoyed.
The baby-blue gloves were also a nice addition, since they contrasted with the dark-blue satin mask she would wear.
Exquisite.
She opened the makeup box, hoping there would be no allergic reactions to any of the products.
She opted to use black eyeshadow on her eyes to stay discreet and applied the mascara on top of the false lashes. On her cheekbones there was the faintest hint of a pink blush, and on her lips a simple cherry lip gloss.
Using her partially-loosened braid, she made a quick, low bun, and put on the light mask, covering everything from her nose up, with the exception of her eyes, exposed. Her utility belt was fastened on her thigh, since the dress was loose enough below her hips to be able to hide anything underneath it.
The woman put on her high heels and walked to the dresser, putting her mask inside a cloth bag she would use to carry the parchment and deposited it inside the dressing table.
She took the clothes she had left on top of the bedside table and left the room, trying to memorize the way back.
Two lefts.
She couldn't forget it.
Two lefts, four rights.
Her mission depended on it.
Two lefts, four rights, left, right.
Two lefts, four rights, left, right!
She reached the top of the ladder where she had previously climbed and smiled, well aware of how to get rid of everything.
Upon arriving in the kitchen and encountering the large stove that burned like a thousand suns, she made sure of being alone and threw the clothes inside, wiping her hands as they burned. She stared at the clock again.
Seven o'clock.
"Oh, shit!"
Lifting her dress up enough to be able to run, the young woman headed to the glass building's entrance.
Medea stopped for a moment, taking in the sight in front of her.
The place looked even more stunning at night — the way the huge crystal chandelier lit up the glass walls seemed to turn it all into a kind of fairytale castle.
When she was little, before being bought by Araeso and being trained as a courtesan, Medea used to fantasize about the day she would walk into such a bright and beautiful place. She imagined that as soon as she got there, she'd be greeted by a handsome prince (who would fall in love with her at first sight, obviously) and they would dance so much that when the party was over, he'd propose to her.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd steal a kiss from her!
But unfortunately, fairytales didn't exist, just as there was no possibility of her forgetting her past altogether.
She arranged her posture and greeted the two butlers who stood at the entrance, marchin gracefully to the center of the ballroom.
When she had passed by earlier, there had been no time to absorb how fine that atmosphere was, how everything seemed ethereal. It was a real party of real rich people… And she was infiltrated to steal from its hosts. How ironic.
Upon noticing that most of the women there seemed to carry some kind of accessory with them, she felt a little dislocated.
Maybe she should have carried a fan with her, but it was too late and she couldn't go back to that room without raising suspicion. Therefore, she raised her chin and did what she did best: she marveled strangers with her mere presence; after all, a prostitute had a single basic rule that was to remain confident regardless of the situation.
She was Medea Lanfort. If there was anyone who could steal that scroll right under those pompous rich noses, it was her.
A man offered her an orange drink, which she distinguished as liquor, and she accepted it, thanking him with a smile.
As soon as she savored it, her throat burned and her eyes got watery. It was strong. She tried her best not to show the discomfort she felt and chugged it down immediately; it was better to swallow something bad at once than to suffer while sipping it.
She placed the crystal glass on the nearest butler's tray and approached a pillar as she watched the couples dance, all too serious and meticulous to call it a party.
She rolled her eyes.
Rich people were so boring. No wonder Alluka and Killua got away.
A young woman with black hair and large grayish-green eyes offered her strawberry cupcakes and she gasped when she saw the size of the whipped cream topping. Taking one in her hands carefully, she thanked the young woman, who smiled at seeing someone show any type of reaction amid that sea of inexpressive people and just nodded, leaving her alone again.
She closed her lips around the dessert and sighed as she felt the typical bursts of desire-raspberry coupled with the acidity of the strawberry explode in her mouth. It was so much better than the cherry muffin!
"Heavens, that's so good!" She muttered to herself as she attacked the dessert again.
Next to her, a male voice laughed. "Be careful, these desire-raspberries might numb your mouth. You might not be able to talk if you eat too much." Alerted an old-man.
She turned to him, curious.
He had prominent cheekbones that highlighted his upturned nose, and thick eyebrows that framed his mischievous gray eyes. Medea knew the glow those eyes had. She saw them every morning on Killua's blue ones ever since the siblings started living with her.
That man was surely his grandfather.
She swallowed the last piece of the cupcake before smiling. "Thank you for alerting me, sir. Having a sweet tooth sometimes takes away the focus of what is safe or not." She giggled.
"Don't mention it, this ball is too important to have one of our guests unable to speak, right?"
"Indeed." What the fuck is he talking about? "Did you lose your mask, sir?"
He shook his hand, not giving the detail any mind. "Once you reach my age, it's not important to keep any masks." He replied philosophically. "Tell me, has anyone asked you to dance since you arrived?"
"Unfortunately no, but it doesn't matter." She replied. "Sometimes the best moments are those you spend with yourself, immersed in your own inner darkness, searching for any and every trace of enlightenment."
"Oh, I fully agree, Dwain Dale was especially wise in writing such words." He looked at her from head to toe and smiled. "You have a good repertoire, it is not always that a young woman of your age quotes such an important author."
She gave him half a curtsy, holding the sides of her dress as she gently lowered herself. "I am truly flattered by your compliments, Mr. Zoldyck."
"Would you like to dance with me?" Inquired the man, no hint of malice or desire in his voice, only pure civility.
That was enough to make her feel safe, even if it wasn't that big of a deal. "It would be an honor, sir."
Even if there was a moment of combat and the Zoldycks are aware of an intruder, everything seems to be going according to plan. Will Medea be able to succeed in the theft? Or will everything circle the drain?
To find out the answer to these and other questions, stay tuned for the next chapters~