Chapter 95: Drau, you promised… okay?
Upper Earth Month, 1st Day, 600 AGG
"Well," Lakyus flopped onto the sofa in between Tina and Tia. "That could've gone better."
She knew the issue with the lich was deeply personal to Evileye, but in hindsight, she should've ascertained just how personal it was. Thankfully, they managed to escape the meeting unscathed—most of them, that is.
'When was the last time I felt that pressured?' The angel had been all smiles and sunshine at first, but the moment they'd started releasing their aura, Lakyus broke out in cold sweat.
It was one, admittedly surreal, thing to meet the Lady of Wings, and another entirely to be staring down at the tip of her proverbial sword. Lakyus was already wary thanks to the debates surrounding their divinity—the Gods dispensed sacraments and maledictions alike—so the whole affair was incredibly confusing and twice as stressful.
Didn't help they looked like nothing else she'd ever seen: an impossible ideal carved by the divine and imparted with a voice woven from the choicest songs of morn.
And that wasn't even mentioning the way she felt like a chastised child in front of Queen Oriculus. As to whether or not the feeling was a result of the royal's own charisma or the fact they had the ear of the closest thing on this material plane to a god, she couldn't say for sure.
Lakyus understood power was what ultimately drove the world, and the Draconic Kingdom becoming the most suppressed kingdom in the area to the one others had to tiptoe around was going to have consequences she couldn't hope to predict. 'Going from one extreme to the other.'
"A-Are you okay?" Renner fussed over Evileye, hands hovering a distance from the spellcaster's form as if worried the slightest touch would harm them. "I'm so sorry. I, I didn't know that would—"
"Don't be," Evileye released a long-suffering sigh that looked a tad ridiculous without their mask. "Like you said: you didn't know. Besides, I got nobody to blame but myself."
They lowered their head to herself and the other three members of Blue Roses. "I'm sorry for getting you all caught up in my selfishness. I can't say I'm planning on dropping this issue, but I'll handle it on my own from this point onwards—"
Lakyus snorted, causing the spellcaster to drop what they were saying and direct a glare at her. "Look, you don't have to laugh at me. I know I messed up; rubbing it in doesn't do anybody any good."
"We ain't laughing about that, Shorty," Gagaran rustled Evileye's hair through the crimson cloak. "We're laughing about how you're thinking we'll up and leave you just because of a little setback."
"I'd call this more than just a 'little' setback," Evileye groused but didn't push away the warrior's hand.
"Whatever you want to call it," Gagaran removed her hand. "We're a team. No way we'd leave you out to dry."
The warrior paused, thinking over what they said. "Say, aren't vampires supposed to burn in the sun? Never got around to asking about the 'details,' but if you're comfortable with it…" They let the sentence trail off.
"Some do," Evileye scowled, though not with any real anger. Lakyus noticed the tension that'd been there since Lady Yuriko's outburst had bled out of the spellcaster's shoulders. "Bad joke by the way; you should stick to smacking things instead of making quips, muscle-for-brains."
"Um," Renner nervously cut into the byplay. The priestess immediately felt a surge of guilt; her friend already had to deal with the mess that was the Empire and Kingdom, not to mention the whole project with Eight Fingers that was currently on hold. Now they were dragged into this Fluder business too, and Lakyus worried Renner would try to involve themselves with something dangerous. "It's a little insensitive to ask this now, but what are you all planning on next? A powerful lich can't be left to their own devices, correct?"
"No. They can't," the vampire succinctly replied. "Although I doubt we have much of an option now. Attacking a powerful spellcaster within their territory is dangerous, especially when there's barely any information on said territory."
Fluder Paradyne, like most state-employed wizards, tended to hole up in workshops whenever outside matters weren't pestering them. Lakyus figured the Tri-Arts Caster would reside somewhere in the Ministry of Magic's holdings, but an exact location eluded her.
"If it's just information… I could—"
"Absolutely not," Evileye firmly rejected Renner's offer; Lakyus wordlessly nodded in approval of her comrade's decision. "Your position is incredibly precarious. Jircniv won't tolerate sabotage from a political hostage, so don't mention this again. The people of Re-Estize need at least one competent royal on their side…"
"Well, maybe Yuriko would ask on our behalf if I re-explained the situation to her? I know the earlier conversation didn't go very well—"
Tia snorted. Lakyus shot the ninja a dirty look.
"—but she's actually a really nice person! I mean, anybody would get mad if you insulted someone they loved like that, wouldn't they?" Renner pointedly stared at Evileye with an intensity usually reserved for a certain guard. "Give her some time to calm down, apologize, and try again with a less demanding petition."
"Queen Oriculus didn't seem like she wanted the angel to give any kinda help," Gagaran shook her head. "And man, Princess, your friend's reaction to Shorty tells me she ain't gonna go against the Queen here. Plus, both of them were definitely thinking they can handle Fluder even if he gets out of hand which is—"
"Terrifying," Tina murmured, finishing the sentence for the warrior.
"Yeah, that. You just don't treat a Sixth-Tier wizard like they're some annoying chore," in retrospect, Queen Oriculus hadn't reacted much to the news at all. Paradyne's reputation preceded him and rightfully so; his magic could probably see him victorious in a fight with most anything with the exception of ancient dragons. "Though I guess she's got a damn good reason to feel confident."
"I couldn't tell how strong she was," Tia agreed. "But forcing a surrender out of the beastmen wasn't something Paradyne should be able to do."
"Her resurrection magic is the real deal too," Tina added, apologetically glancing at Lakyus. Since Blue Roses had yet to witness firsthand the Lady of Wings resurrecting someone, they must have been referring to the Warrior Captain's recent reappearance. "Has to be higher than what the Court Wizard can cast."
'Magic relegated to myth—what, Seventh-Tier? Higher even?' There were no Sixth-Tier resurrection spells she knew of, and pulling off a resurrection without a body was a feat far exceeding the priestess's common sense, much less her capabilities. 'Assuming the stories of her offering the service to the Draconic Kingdom are true, the amount of mana and reagents beggars belief. Gods, what does somebody need to go through to become that?'
Lakyus felt slightly overwhelmed. The Lady of Wings honestly might as well be canonized as a Goddess by virtue of arms even without accounting for their deeds. 'And Queen Oriculus announced they're in a courtship period.'
That particular point stuck out much more now since she saw the two interact with her own two eyes. Genuine affection in a marriage wasn't a privilege often afforded to royalty and nobility, and if that was the case here… 'This—ahhh, whatever. I'll just remember to stay away from anybody insane enough to run interference.'
"Like frogs in a well, huh?" Evileye bitterly scoffed. The priestess sympathized with the sentiment. All their achievements were scattered dust in comparison.
"Well, a frog in a well might not know anything about the sea, but there's still things that can be learned from staring at the sky, aren't there?" Renner gently retorted. "It's not bad, you know, her being here. She's done a lot of good; you could ask any citizen here. In the end, isn't that what matters the most? For everybody to be happy and safe?"
"No yeah, I agree, I agree," they were met with a dismissive wave from the diminutive spellcaster. "Speculations on the benefits of having an apocalyptic time-bomb ticking next door aside, I'll leave the decision to Lakyus. Pursuing this issue any further… I get it. It won't go anywhere."
Attacking an Archmage where they were the strongest was idiotic. Flushing Fluder out of his hiding spot through force was too risky considering the political situation and Renner's ties with Blue Roses. Exposing him publicly wouldn't garner sufficient traction if Queen Oriculus's stance was any indication; she had made an excellent point regarding the absence of proof.
"Then should we just leave it to them?" She offered the suggestion. "When the time comes to strike, we can provide our strength. That doesn't seem too disagreeable; both parties, everyone, stands to gain."
"Makes sense," Tina and Tia concurred in unison with Gagaran lagging behind by half a second.
"Hrm, I still think you guys should talk to her, but this is fine too," Renner sagely nodded. "I could smooth out the details of the arrangement if you'd like?"
In for a copper, in for a gold, was it? 'Renner may as well be an unofficial member of the party at this point. Denying her a say would be spitting on everything we've been through together.'
"We would appreciate that," the priestess flashed a smile. Maybe she was worrying over nothing; boastful it might sound, but anyone the Golden Princess believed a friend had to have some degree of sincere compassion. "With that out the way, I suggest we stay a few days longer before leaving in order to avoid offending Her Majesty more than we already have. Afterwards, we can go back to cleaning up Eight Finger's messes."
She directed an apologetic look to Renner. "Renner, I apologize for the delay."
"Mm mm, it's not a big deal!" The princess beamed. "In the first place, I should be thanking Blue Roses for doing so much already. It's not… optimal, but I understand your reasoning, Lakyus."
Guilt flashed across Renner's face as they directed a poorly hidden glance at Tina. "Taking a break is for the best after what happened recently…
"Anyway!" They clapped their hands together, chasing away the grim gloom. "With our next steps figured out, I was, um, curious about something."
'Evileye?'
"Shoot, ask ahead Princess," Gagaran encouraged them.
"Regarding Evileye's condition—I'm s-sorry! I mean, ehhh—"
'There we go.'
"Get to the question," the spellcaster pinched their nose. "I'm not bothered by you calling it what it is."
"Then, regarding Evileye's… current state of being, would it be possible to share how that came to be?" Renner hesitatingly asked the vampire beside her. "Th-That is, if you're willing to share of course!"
Evileye slouched with a huff. "Hah, why not? Everyone's here, so at least I only need to tell the story once."
Lakyus found herself leaning forward. Renner asked what had been on all their minds—something held back by the consideration they held for their friend. They were aware she once carried the fearsome title 'Landfall,' but the priestess couldn't imagine her friend purposely carrying out the same ritual Fluder apparently had.
What Lakyus knew for certain though was that the hardest person on Evileye was the vampire themselves.
"I'll just start from the beginning. Over two-hundred years ago, there once stood the kingdom of Inveria…"
In the midst of the thick forest that extended outwards from the city of Ur'draga, a small group passed unnoticed by the monsters and rangers that called this region home.
Large for his standards, but everything always came down to perspective, didn't it? One cluster was, in his opinion, the optimal party size for functionality and stealth both; although, there wasn't much he could say if his Handler decided otherwise.
'Had the department's suspicions been confirmed—as it has—bringing this many guards would be worthless anyway.'
Among the group of sixteen, only six were on the Third Step including himself. Among those six, only four were tuned for combat, and of those four, only two for the brutal clashes direct conflict so often devolved into.
Were they to run into a malevolent Deva, even six million would prove lacking. Therefore, conventional wisdom certainly dictated a smaller scouting detachment, one within his skills to conceal, to avoid detection.
"Shade," the Khenra, their name unknown like every other member of the expedition, broke the silence. "Your confirmation has been noted and a report requested at your earliest convenience."
"Mhmm, once we're past this beast then," he didn't bother glancing at the confused fish-snake-tiger monster that was desperately attempting to find interlopers its mind refused to perceive. The effect was significantly more pronounced than with that Rajan; a testament to the beastman's strength? 'Or an indictment of this monster's weakness.'
"Shall we kill it?" Another one of the guards tapped the hilt of their halberd.
"Leave it be," the monster was soon out of sight as the group stepped into a glade. "If the beastmen here allowed the thing to live, then they must have attributed some cultural value to it. There's no value in killing such a weak creature anyway."
He tapped his armguard of black dragon scales. Needless slaughter often left trails, connections that could be pursued via various forms of divination. Without guaranteed benefits, partaking was foolish.
Even making enemies of this region's natives would be problematic for future operations, to say less of the monstrous existence that made its roost in the west. He judged the stronger of the beastman lords to be able to put up a decent fight against his guards, and within a lord's territory where their vassals stood prepared… the Federation had not deemed it fit to deploy guards capable of defying sheer quantity.
Contrary to bedtime stories, Epialos were hardly the vicious fighters parents made them out to be to disobedient children. The sole qualifications—and to those with proper credentials, he would freely admit this was an oversimplification—was for one to walk the Path of an Inquisitor and possess a 'flexible' personality.
A personality comfortable with being nameless, a character that could become a nightmare—forgotten upon waking yet a shapeless, ever-present shadow upon one's memory.
"This is a suitable resting point," he came to a halt at the edge of the clearing, his guards stopping a half-beat later. "Oracle, if you would."
The Khenra tilted their jackal-like head and rattled off a list of spells, following standard procedure:
"『Lesser Magic Veil』,『Misdirection』,『Nondetection』,『Amnesia Ward』,『Memory Ward』," they spent a second in silent consideration. "『Message』."
"Can't believe we're finally going home," the wolf-helmed guard stretched their arms while the Oracle telepathically conversed with the Handler. "Crazy how the boss didn't give us any teleportation shit for the way back. Hells, this whole mission was a mess. What the fuck were they expecting us to do if they were right, huh?"
"It's not your place to question the Speakers' decisions," a lilting, feminine voice coming from the lion demihuman reproved the wolfman. "So long as we fulfill our duties, the rest is irrelevant."
"Oh man," the wolfman disdainfully snorted. "Irrelevant, huh? Y'know, there's no arguing with 'people' like you."
She didn't rise to the bait, instead stiffly turning aside to survey the surroundings. Her peer snorted again before continuing to blabber on. " 'Least we didn't run into a Dragon Lord too. Imagine that: a Deva and a Dragon Lord in one trip. I'd write a book on it or something, heh."
"Violating confidentiality is punishable by summary execution," he admired the lion-woman for managing to reply so calmly. "Also, we did not meet the Deva."
"Psssh, details. Say, you guys think this human lord came from an egg?" The wolfman chuckled. "That tiger fella mentioned Brightness Dragon Lord kicking it 'round these parts, and we all know what he gets up to with those mongrels of his—"
"Do not finish that thought," he sternly reprimanded the wolfman. "Harming the Federation's standing because a careless word was overheard is unacceptable."
One of Vilimandrati's eight Majraihas happened to trace their lineage back to the primordial dragon. For the Vahasi Republic, Draconic Kingdom, and other nearby nations to eavesdrop was unlikely—albeit dangerous considering the supposedly close relationship between the Deva and Dragon Queen—but the Commonwealth was another story entirely. Giving a cause for aggressive action against the Federation because some ignoramus couldn't keep his mouth shut was unacceptable.
"Then why the hells are we stopping here, eh?" Tsk. The intelligence department must be short-staffed with the mess in Rungnir if a person this ill-disciplined was assigned to his group. He felt uneasy at the realization; the arrival of another Tremor should be of incomparable importance, so why was the Unseen Eye treating it carelessly? "Let's go find a spot where we can say all the damn careless words we want—"
"Your Handler will speak with you now, Shade," the Khenra Oracle interrupted the wolfman's nonsense. All the guards straightened their postures, the four rangers spreading out into the trees behind, and the rest arrayed in a protective formation around the Oracles and himself.
The Minotaur didn't bother asking if their mana was sufficient; at this level, such an awareness should be instinctual. "Carry on then, Oracle."
"『Transference』," they offloaded the communication link alongside the relevant protective wards unto him. It was a heavy-handed piece of thaumic application: forcing the caster to repay almost the full mana cost of all spells being shifted. It couldn't be helped, not with the procedures in place, so he was simply thankful the group had a backup Oracle.
"『Shade Statheros.』" His Handler wasted no time in confirming their identity by stating his full designation. "『What news have you?』"
"『Our timeline projections were accurate; the Tremors have deposited another Deva.』"
"『You're certain?』" The Handler spoke in the same flat tone. In fact, he had never heard them talk in anything but a bland monotone. He was starting to develop a sneaking suspicion that they used a magic item or spell to modulate their messaging input. "『This will shape the Federation's foreign policy doctrine going forward. Please keep the severity of the situation in mind.』"
"『There were a number of angels that have not been listed in our archives. As for their strength, I lacked the perception to fully perceive, but a not insignificant number could possibly prove challenging to even the wielders of high-grade divine relics.』"
With that said, he was confident a properly equipped demigod would make short work of any angel. Theirs was an existence that, much like the Sage's bloodline they were conceived of, defied conventional reality.
"『And these angels weren't from the nearby human theocracy? I recall the demihumans of this region waging a war with nations to their west.』"
The Minotaur felt his eye twitch from under the veil. Both he and the Handler knew that the Slane Theocracy had no history of aiding the Draconic Kingdom to this degree, even when the first two major cities were taken—and of the little they did send, there existed a noticeable absence of country-destroying angels. "『The angels I've seen in this beastman republic don't disappear, Handler. Her vocations must—』"
"『Her.』"
"『She was referred to as such.』" He patiently answered. "『Yuriko Hanami, Lady of Wings, nascent Goddess to the people of this region.』"
"『Lady of Wings is a bit on the nose, isn't it?』"
"『I suppose so, Handler. 』" Impatience was carefully kept out of his mental voice. Staying longer than necessary in a Deva's domain was unwise. "『In any case, all of the people I've approached, some who had the misfortune of meeting her summons in battle, spoke of incredible feats. Excuse my rudeness, but were there not inquiries made prior to my deployment?』"
"『Mm… Inquiries… indeed, inquiries had been made. It's tricky with the Slane Theocracy's stranglehold on the region, though what little we've already learned lines up with what you've reported, Statheros. Your shadow, have you imprinted upon anybody?』"
"『I have.』" He confirmed, becoming conscious as to the way his form casted no shadow. "『A certain Rajan Rogrek Kroh'or currently participating in Ur'draga's restoration.』"
"『That's acceptable. You'll receive additional details at a later date; this ought to surprise our peers from the Commonwealth.』"
A shiver ran down his spine. Thinking about the topic was worthless. Yes, there existed phenomena that could shake even him.
"『Understood.』" The Epialos wanted to ask the dearth of resources for the assignment, the Unseen Eye's plans moving forward, and a whole host of other questions, but kept his mind's mouth shut. "『Will we be recalled now, or does the department have other tasks prepared?』"
"『Return to the pick-up location. Your next task can wait—well done by the way. Once Grand Speaker Chalkias receives the collated information, I'm sure the Federation will make diplomatic overtures to this Draconic Kingdom.』"
There was a brief pause before the Handler continued with an inflection-less chuckle.
"『One day, if she ever pays the Federation a visit, we might find our jurisprudence in need of updates like in the era of the Revered Sage.』"
"『Assuming we're blessed with good fortune.』" It'll be counted as a miracle if their alien sensibilities merely lead to demands to change the Federation's social structure. Even such a 'mild' outcome was… the history books already discussed that tumultuous period in length.
"『Yes, assuming that. Perhaps if the Speakers tread the correct path, she'll willingly pressure the Commonwealth for us.』" The Handler mused. The Epialos finally realized they must be using humor to try and cope with the situation in their own way. "『Ah, one last reminder before I leave you be: the dynamic between the Draconic Kingdom and the Deva is interesting to say the least—rumors of marriage and what have you—so operations there are likely to be even further limited.』"
"『As always then.』" He ignored the comment on marriage. Gods, he sincerely hoped the Deva couldn't procreate with the descendant of a primordial Dragon Lord. The demigods that would be birthed, especially on the astronomical off-chance one inherited Brightness Dragon Lord's authority over souls…
"『As always. Though that kingdom's ruler has yet to display any feats worth noting, she's still said to have inherited her progenitor's ability to wield Wild Magic. I, and certainly I speak for the entire Federation when I say this, do not wish for a wielder of soul magic and a Deva to direct their unity against our nation.』"
"『I shall take your advice to heart, Handler.』" Love was impossible—the horrors vomited from the Tremors had spilled too much dragon blood for that—but even the smallest knot of mutual interest had potentially catastrophic consequences. "『I can only pray our leaders will too.』"
"『Hm, well, leave that to the Grand Speaker. He's rather busy with the Martial Symposium Kuryeo is currently hosting, but I'm confident the next Acropolis will have the Speakers see reason. 』" The Epialos had his suspicions more was going on than just a symposium; although, the circumstances surrounding the Second-ranked Sword Saint really weren't suited for discussion even over warded channels. "『That much should sate your curiosity, Statheros. The department awaits your full debriefing upon return.』"
The『Message』ended, leaving him in contemplative silence. 'This won't turn out like the one a century ago.'
Last century's Tremor had passed with almost insulting peacefulness, so it was a matter of course he would be alive for the Deva that revealed herself with all the vengeance of a firestorm and then some. Annihilating an army, annihilating clans of beastmen wholesale, annihilating the common sense of the local primitives, destroying, overturning, ravaging as the most vicious among her kind were wont to do—
"You're done? Let's get a move on it, eh?" Again, the wolfman seemed determined to establish themselves as a peerless nuisance. Their fellow guards didn't so much as shift this time, seemingly resigned to let the demihuman prattle for the rest of the return trip. "Fucking, almost a thousand kilometers to the nearest airship port, and there's that damn desert too."
He had never quite hated anybody throughout the course of his entire life. Enemies, incompetent allies, abominable things—none kindled the necessary fire in his breast.
"Shiiit, if we run into another Sand Dragon, the boss better let us keep a cut of both corpses."
The world, it seemed, was determined to make today a day of many firsts.
Her beloved could be rather excitable when they wanted to, which, in the spirit of honesty, was almost always. She didn't find it a bother per se, though she'd admit keeping pace with their energy was difficult at times.
Speaking of energy, they hadn't performed their two daily casts of Super-Tier magic. Was there something she wasn't aware of—?
A slender finger poked Draudillon's cheek.
"Drauuu~"
'Still, I can't bring myself to feel irked,' not when she knew their excitement was in anticipation of spending time with her. 'It's good no one is here around to see the Draconic Kingdom's sovereign being harassed so.'
"I thought we were going on a date?" Yuriko poked her cheek again. "Unless hanging out in our room for a little is in the plans, which I don't mind, but—"
"We are. Just after a few important points are discussed," Draudillon opened the door to her bedroom and closed it behind Yuriko. "Remember the few times you went outside to visit people? Silas and Mira for instance. Do you remember the crowds that had to be driven from their residences for days on end?"
"Oh," the angel abashedly scratched their neck. "Yeah, that would be kinda bad."
"Only if you'd rather people gawk at us instead," Draudillon sat down on the edge of the bed and laid backwards. "Or impede the business of wherever we end up stopping at for longer than a few seconds."
"So you're saying I need a disguise or something?" Yuriko unceremoniously plopped themselves face-first into her lap, humming with contentment as the dragon queen's hand found its way to the top of their head. "Well, we."
"Something of that nature. I've a few basic items prepared," she softly nudged the angel aside to better access the pouch at her waist. "Wigs, magical hair dyes… so on and so forth."
"Hmmm…" Yuriko only briefly considered the curly black wig before stuffing it back into the bag. "I wanna try the thingy you used to do!"
' 'Thingy…' ' Lines formed in her forehead at the thought. They were—probably referring to the spell she once used to take on the form of a child. "Absolutely not."
"Why's that?"
"Look—haaa… Alright, first off: I've never tried using it on somebody else."
"Good time to practice?" Yuriko offered. "You said you wanted to practice using Wild Magic more."
Draudillon opened her mouth to refute the point, but decided to just continue with the next reason. "Secondly, it's dangerous."
"Why?"
"It's not as simple as casting a spell and calling it a day," she explained. "There's no 'presets,' at least in the sense of simply conjuring an image within your mind to reflect onto reality. Everything from the pores in your skin to each individual strand of hair has to be accounted for, which I'm sure you can see is a magnitude more complex than what tier magic usually demands in terms of caster input. Some techniques are obviously different, but for the most part, it's far from the simple task you think."
"Huh," they—they didn't get it, did they? "I don't get it."
"Reshaping myself is easy because I can glean the relevant information from my soul," her beloved squirmed as she jabbed them in the small of their back. "Other people are a different story."
"Um, so you just need to peek at my soul?" Yuriko kicked their feet up and down. "Is that like, super hard or something…? And I'm not trying to make fun of you; I really, really just don't know anything about this stuff, Drau."
"Again, I've never tried, so I can't speak as to whether it's hard or easy," Draudillon equivocated, unsure of what order of words would dissuade her beloved. "Either way, that's not the point. It's incredibly unsafe."
"It's dangerous and you used to do it to yourself all the time?" The angel frowned, finally serious as they flipped over to face her. She'd be lying if she said the sentiment wasn't welcome, but she needed to be firm at the moment.
"I meant you would be in danger," she fought the urge to run a hand down her face. " 'Peeking' at your soul means, well first of all, I'd need access to it."
"Doesn't sound dangerous to me."
"You'll be putting your life in my hands," Draudillon quietly said. Not coldly, but not warmly either, yet Yuriko must have heard something in her voice causing their eyes to soften in a way that wrenched her heart. "In every possible, conceivable way. Your existence—everything that constitutes you would be placed at the whims of a person who could burn it all away."
"But it's not just some person," they brushed the side of her face. "It's you. Plus, I already told you before, right? If you ever wanted my soul, it's already yours."
"…"
"Drau, I trust you," Yuriko reassuringly smiled. "It's okay."
How could they? How could they when she hardly trusted herself? She, who had failed the expectations of so many—how could such a person be trusted with something this precious?
But they did. They did, and she didn't want to let them down. Didn't want to turn away because that would mean, somehow, their confidence in her was misplaced.
"Indeed," she swallowed: in nerves or anticipation, she wasn't sure. "If you could relax yourself—"
The angel giggled "I'm relaxed now!"
"You…" Draudillon nearly flicked them on the forehead before settling for a sigh instead. "Nevermind. Are you sure you're ready?"
"Yup!"
She took a deep breath, body tense to the muscle, and attempted to probe the nucleus of her beloved's existence. To her mild surprise, she was met with… a barrier? A spiritual, metaphysical, whatever—some kind of 'solid' barrier that prevented further intrusion. The ability to describe the protection defied her; its framework a masterpiece she could not comprehend.
"Dear," the dragon queen pinched Yuriko's nose, somewhat nonplussed by the anticlimactic development. "If you changed your mind, we do still have the wigs—"
"E-Eh?! No! I was just a little surprised. That was… I turned off all the immunities and resistances I could though?"
Draudillon hummed in consideration. She wasn't certain about high-tier physical immunity and unbelievably robust spell resistance, but accessing a willing soul shouldn't be affected by the plethora of defenses the angel boasted. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm—oh," Yuriko at least had the awareness to look shamefaced. "Maybe not?"
"Which one skipped your mind?" It had to be an obscure protection for them to forget unless they were having another lapse in memory.
"World Protection," her beloved answered with a thoughtful expression. "Huh. Never figured that would block Wild Magic."
"Don't go into a fight thinking that," Draudillon immediately warned, even putting aside her slight astonishment at the possibility. "The first step of what I'm trying to do, hazardous as it might be, can't even be considered a proper spell. We have no idea what the limits of this protection are when it comes to Wild Magic, and no feasible way to test said limits."
Consuming a million souls to fuel a vicious explosion targeting Yuriko ranked very, very high on her list of pointless activities.
"I won't, I won't," Yuriko wiggled their toes in eager anticipation. She sighed again, secretly wishing they would take this a bit more seriously. Gods, it was their soul that was at stake here. "Continue?"
'It's because she has faith in you,' she reprimanded herself. 'Let's get this done with.'
And then she reached out again, this time finding herself in a veritable ocean's worth of essence that was oddly less alien than expected. The amount was—staggering, perhaps greater than the sum total of their entire kingdom. With this much she could reshape mountain ranges, raise massive forests the span of nations if only she knew how, sing the Dirge multiple times over in rapid succession…
'You're getting distracted.'
Right. Best not put things off.
She 'leaned' into the ocean for closer inspection—
The first, most noticeable thing was the cold. Like all she'd known was warmth until this terrifying moment that would've seen her flailing about, but weakness pervaded every inch of her body.
Then there was the piercing light and that gods-awful sound.
People, probably, were talking around her, and maybe they were happy, but it could've been painfully sad too because somebody that wasn't her was crying and then she was encompassed by a comforting—
In wild panic, she pulled.
"Yuriko," a stern woman with sharp brown eyes and straight-cut, shoulder length black hair disapprovingly stared at her. "Eat your green peppers."
"No!" The childish voice, more so than any she herself had dared imitate, unhappily shouted. Strangely enough, it seemed to come from 'her.' "Dun wanna!"
'Ah,' Draudillon remembered with difficulty while a pressure built up in her 'head.' 'We're working on building a disguise with my spell. Scrutinizing somebody else's soul is a much different experience, apparently.'
The boundary identifying where 'she' ended and Yuriko started was growing blurrier by the second. 'Applying the appearance of a child might not be a good idea. I should hurry, but…'
A part of her hesitated. Another part, one that she wasn't sure wholly belonged to her, was awash with a wistful nostalgia.
"Then I guess you don't want to catch the special of Magical Melodia Tora-Tora that's coming on in, oh…" Yuriko's mother, Azami Hara, glanced at a small white box with a gray glass-like face that displayed 'arabic numerals' she recalled her beloved teaching her a while ago. One, Eight, Five, Six. "Four minutes?"
"I wanna watch!" The small child was on the verge of tears. If she had a physical form, Draudillon would've smiled; they'd been quite the brat, hadn't they? "I, I wanna watch!"
"Unfortunately, Tora-Tora doesn't like bad little girls who don't eat their green peppers," Azami nonchalantly plucked a piece of… something off their own plate with a pair of sticks. "Mommy just doesn't want Tora-Tora to be angry at you."
"But…" Her field of vision narrowed on the offending vegetables. "I hate green peppers."
'This shirt she's wearing must be from the show,' Draudillon caught a glimpse of a nauseatingly cutesy tiger-girl holding an unfamiliar string instrument. 'Cute—hk.'
The pressure intensified, turning into pain.
Pull.
"How was that, Dad?!" She rushed to a stocky man with wide, round eyes filled with a kindness that put her at ease. Water dripped off her in rivulets, splashing down onto the tiled floor. "Were you keeping track of my time?"
"Just under a minute twenty-five," Yuriko's father rubbed her head through the odd rubbery material covering it. "Good job, Yu-chin!"
"Daaad!" Yuriko, she, furtively looked around in dismay. "Not here!"
"Eh? So you want me to say you did a bad job? I'm not sure I could say that, Yu-chin…"
"Geez, I didn't mean—Captain!" Her beloved squeaked as a tall girl with the beginnings of a lean, toned musculature not unlike a ranger's drew near. The outfit, swimwear they were wearing made Draudillon wonder what Yuriko would look like wearing something similar. "H-Hi, I, I just finished my event!"
"I saw," the Captain pulled off their own rubbery blue cap with a yawn. "Big step up, Hanami. I want to see the same energy in your next heat. Fifty meter butterfly, right?"
"R-Right!" Their face grew hot as they avoided the Captain's gaze. "You too, Captain—I mean, um, th-thank you very much!"
'A childhood infatuation,' the realization was an easy one for Draudillon to arrive at. She found herself surprisingly unbothered. 'Yuriko mentioned participating in a swim club before. I suppose it explains the fishing? She never brought up swimming though…'
Her beloved's father noticed too if the amused quirk of his mouth was anything to go by, but Yuriko herself didn't seem aware of the man's reaction. "She's not causing you too much trouble, is she, Watanabe?"
"Miss Hanami has been an exemplary member, Mister Hanami," The Captain respectfully replied, tone shifting with a smoothness Draudillon would've expected from a scioness of a noble house. Someone belonging to the upper crust then? "If it's alright with you, may I take her to discuss a few things before her next event?"
"Go for it," Yasu returned Yuriko's wave and she made to follow—
"I see," a bespectacled man put down the sheets of paper he'd been holding and looked up. "It's unfortunate—but understandable. Do you have any plans, Miss Hanami?"
"Um… I…" She struggled to find the words, mouth dry and speech unforthcoming. "I sent some job applications?" She winced at the man's unimpressed expression. "S-Sorry, I just…"
He sighed, exasperated with a hint of something else too, buried under decades of drudgery. "You'll probably need to find new living arrangements for the time being, so keep that in mind too. Anyway, returning to your job applications, have you had any luck?"
No. No, of course she didn't. Why would she when she lied about sending applications in the first place?
She was tired.
Wanted to cry, but couldn't because that took effort she didn't have the energy to spend.
"I…"
The man sighed again. "There's somebody I know who might be able to help with that, but their company's main office is far from here—right outside the Miyagi Arcology. A shame circumstances are forcing you to drop out of high school, but finishing junior high in this economy is already an impressive achievement." He pushed his glasses up, rubbing his baggy eyes. "What I'm trying to say is, Miss Hanami, you have options. If you wanted to stay here, that's certainly possible—"
"I'll take the recommendation, Teacher," she'd been scratching her arm since the start of the meeting, hard enough to leave marks that would scab later. "I'm—thank you. And, uh, sorry for interrupting."
He shook his head with a sentiment that she strangely empathized with.
"Of course. I'll forward the information to your email as soon as possible. Some recommended accountants too which I suggest you take advantage of lest the banks do," he grimaced at the verbal misstep. "Being here… yes, leaving for new scenery might be for the better."
Yeah.
Anywhere but here.
This isn't me.
Her head was pounding in a skull-splitting headache only rather than her head, it was her entire soul.
Something was wrong. A wrong that filled Yu—Draudillon with unease.
'I was,' printing a copy of the paperwork for the contract her supervisor had assigned her to. 'I was working on applying a disguise to Yuriko. Not… this.'
She should've aborted her attempt the moment pain—
"Miss Hanami, are you still using this printer?" She blinked. "Err, I could go to the one in maintenance…?"
"Oh, I'm done here," she quickly grabbed the papers off the tray. "Sorry about that."
"No problem," they slid a sheet into a small slit: the scanner. "One of those days, huh?"
'Fuck, fucking focus,' Draudillon angrily snapped back to attention. This was a task that other Dragon Lords absolutely, certainly, definitely had techniques preventing this exact sort of ego-blurring side-effect. 'Location is a close match to the descriptions she gave of her old workplace—'
"—vy Industries had another major accident. Can't really say it's surprising given what we've been hearing in the news, but… goes to show, I guess."
"Yeah, it's—"
Just because this was a chance to view the angel's old life firsthand wasn't an excuse to get so distracted—
"Welp, I'll see you around, Miss Hanami," he retrieved the original document and the newly printed copies. "Good luck with the contract proposal!"
"Thank you."
The smile on her face dropped as she returned to her desk.
It was painful.
Yuriko muttered, voice exhausted and empty:
"What am I even doing here?"
'Focus.'
Draudillon 'grabbed' onto 'something.'
And then she pulled again, outwards this time instead of across, up to the surface that was the metaphorical boundaries of the angel's soul and through a familiar process, albeit with slightly less familiar content, wove her own essence into a mold constraining the physical.
It was a vast net, one fit to encompass her heaven, but allowed nothing through. Despite the dragon queen's efforts the spell was already starting to decay—a sure sign of her lacking expertise that she wasn't willing to address at the moment. In this case, 'finished' really was better than 'perfect.'
The experience was terrible. Awful. Harrowing in a different, subtler way than the beastman invasions had been. An exercise of violation on a level few were capable of.
Deplorable, reprehensible, inexcusable, the World hadn't the words to condemn her crime.
But even so, Draudillon Oriculus could not bring herself to regret doing what she did.
She simply… didn't want that woman to be alone. No matter what.
Yet staying here forever wasn't an option.
And,
They would cry again if she did that.
Therefore—
'Pull.'
Draudillon separated herself from the ocean.
"Fuuu…"
To her consternation, the pain didn't go away. If anything, the dull ache had become a sharp one now, nails lovingly hammered into the base, eyes, between the ears and—most everything hurt.
'Never doing that again,' the dragon queen opened her eyes, rubbing the tortured spheres as she readjusted to the magical light illuminating the bedroom. 'This has better not been a waste of time.'
"I look…" Yuriko's voice, overflowing with awe and amazement, managed to break through the sword-haze of throbbing blanketing her mind. "Drau, you—you're amazing."
Fighting the increasingly tempting urge to vomit, Draudillon beheld the work her soul had wrought.
Instead of an angel carved out of living alabaster, an ordinary—if you ignored the way their eyes intermittently flashed gold—human was staring up at her with a small mirror in hand. "Waaaa… I almost forgot what I used to look like…"
Their appearance was reminiscent of those who lived further south: black hair, brown eyes, but pale skin that bordered on sickly rather than the ruddy tone of southerners. It reminded her of their mother but without the severeness; and already, the recollections were fading from memory along with everything else she'd unwittingly exposed herself to.
Another pulse of pain as her mind and soul strained themselves to purge the foreign. Draudillon pushed it aside, barely, and continued scrutinizing.
'She's so thin,' Yuriko's limbs had always been thin, but this wasn't the sculpted strength of their true form—no, this was a frailty that spoke of a decade of poor nutrition, an inactive lifestyle, and a complete absence of motivation to fix either of the former.
Because why would they? When there was nothing to live for anymore, at least not really.
Her heart hurt.
"Um, Drau? You're kinda shaky," her beloved worriedly frowned, putting the mirror away in the same motion. "Are you okay—?"
They were concerned about her, somebody else, when the person they should've been concerned about the most was themselves.
They had every right to look out for themselves first and foremost, but didn't.
Every excuse to live life with the freedom their second chance afforded them—but didn't.
F-Fool.
Yuriko made a small noise of confusion as Draudillon pulled them up from her lap and wrapped them in a hug. "Drau?"
She opened her mouth before immediately forgetting what she was about to say.
"Bucket, h—urk—hurry," her beloved quickly complied, and a bucket was withdrawn from a swirling rift just in time to catch the chunky liquified contents of this morning's breakfast and the earlier tea party.
After a few more seconds to ensure her stomach had been properly emptied, Draudillon wiped her grimacing mouth with a handkerchief Yuriko provided. At least her head wasn't feeling so gods-awful anymore. "Thank you for that. I'm fine, I—just need a moment."
"You don't look fine," Yuriko's frown deepened, and it made the dragon queen want to hug them tighter, harder if only her arms had the strength. "What happened?"
"Some head pain," Draudillon absentmindedly replied while her hands roamed about her beloved's body. "Forgive me?"
"Seriously, you're—" They heaved a sigh, twitching as she pinched their inner thigh. Bony. "Th-That's not fair…"
"Yuriko," she gently grabbed their chin, bringing a blush to the disguised angel's cheeks. "I'm okay. I can't say I wasn't caught off-guard by the side-effects, but I'm okay."
"… you aren't telling me everything."
Argh. "My ego was almost dispersed?"
"What—?!"
"I won't do it again," Draudillon released their chin, holding a finger up to their lips instead. "I promise. I'm sorry for worrying you, but like I said, the side-effects weren't expected."
"Is Wild Magic always this risky?" Yuriko complained and brought the dragon queen's hand to the side of their face. "First there was that soul-ball thingy, and now mind-death…"
"In my defense, the essence materialization wasn't this bad."
"As long as you didn't overdo it."
"Yes," Draudillon didn't think she deserved a glare. She even slept most nights nowadays. "I can't deny it's an inherently perilous art, but it is magic dealing with the nature of souls. It couldn't be anything but dangerous to begin with."
The angel deflated, accepting the non-justification. "Just be careful, please? I know asking you to completely stop using Wild Magic would be dumb, but… please be careful, Drau."
"To the best of my abilities," she patted their cheeks. "On to another topic: you never quite mentioned how thin you used to be." Draudillon started to rub the rough skin before hurriedly adding: "Not that I mind of course. If you ever wish to permanently change your appearance to how it once was, I'd be more than happy to help find a solution."
"I, I'm fine the way I am, honest! And as for the thin stuff, well, yeah I guess I was?" Yuriko's concern was swapped out for flustered confusion. "Nutripaste is kinda gross, so eating a lot of it was super hard. Everything else felt too expensive to justify, even though I never really spent much of my savings now that I'm thinking about it…"
"You're a fool," her lips pressed together into a fine line. The statement was pure distilled hypocrisy, but that hardly lessened its truth. "Take better care of yourself, would you?"
"But I am?"
She scowled. "You know what I mean."
"Ehhh…" Yuriko slouched. "I really am though…"
Draudillon's gaze softened. "Again, if you ever want or need anything, tell me. Don't hold it in thinking you're being a bother. You aren't."
For a moment, she thought they'd ask for something small again; a hug, a kiss, free time, but the hesitation in their brown-flashing-gold eyes gave her reason to pause.
"Then, stay with me," this time, she was the one brought into an embrace. "Forever i-if that's, y'know… sorry, I'm… haha… I'm saying weird stuff again—"
"I will," the dragon queen resolutely accepted, carefully avoiding contemplating the disparities between their 'forevers.' "For as long as you'll have me, I'll be at your side."
Draudillon clasped their hand, fingers interlocking, and raised it for the angel to observe. "Like this: see?"
"… mm."
There was the fleeting sensation of a desire whose origin she could no longer recall. A feeling that demanded she not leave this person alone.
Maybe they both needed a distraction.
"Now," she withdrew a few bottles of magical hair dye and bundles of mundane clothing from the chest resting at the foot of the bed. Cerde deserved another raise to have prepared this in under an hour. "Help me pick out a color unless you want to walk around with a child."
AN: A few shoutouts:
A World in Turmoil: Rise of the Heroes by JohnnyWins is a fanfic following two (OC) Players slated to join the Thirteen Heroes. Starts off a lil mild, but each chapter sees more and more improvements. It's impressive stuff. The way the Players interact with each other and the world around them is wonderfully done, with emotion clear and hard-hitting. Give it a shot!
Overlord: Divinity by Therapyderg is a super fluffy/cute piece that is overall just a relaxing read (minus the serious moments which are intense, but those are sad and rough in a good way as well!) Love the Player OC there; she's a real friend-shaped treasure! That being said, the author no longer updates on FFN, so you'll have to head over to Ao3 to check out the sugar overload!
As always, thank you all very much for reading!
