Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been busy ironing out story elements that both compliment and make interesting additions to Familiar of Zero's canon.
Being real with you, I want to make Michael fit into the world nicely with his backstory. That meant lots of time looking through the wiki.
...
Colbert and Osmond remove the Coordinator's Glove - a powerful sister artifact of the Staff of Destruction - from Tristain Academy's Vault.
Later that day, Michael attends Colbert's private lecture alongside Louise and Tabitha.
Lecture
Professor Colbert and Headmaster Osmond step through the large wooden doors leading inside Tristain Academy's inner vault.
In light of Fouquet's recent theft, royal soldiers stand guard down the length of the corridor.
The younger of the two men keeps a steady pace so the older headmaster might keep up with his cane.
"It is as I said, Headmaster, the young man absolutely bares the Guardian's Mark," Colbert reaffirms, nodding his head. "With this in mind, I believe Simon de Mont's possessions may serve him well."
"I trust your judgement on the matter, though for the time being, I would request you allow me to ask questions of the young man," Osmond says, walking with his trusty wooden cane. "After your lesson with him concludes, naturally. The Coordinator Glove is a powerful artifact, after all."
"Certainly, Headmaster."
Finally, the two reach the end of the hall.
A pair of guards, each standing watch at one side of the door, nod for the duo. The one standing to the door's left-hand side then gets to work releasing the series of sturdy locks on both sides. Once finished, his comrade to the right heaves the doors open for the two mages.
Both Colbert and Osmond step through and arrive at the head of a downward leading spiral staircase.
"I shall wait up here for you, Jean," says the elder of the two men, leaning by the guarding wall overlooking the deep, treasure-filled chamber far below. "I have had quite enough of stairs for today."
Colbert bows, respectfully dismissing himself as he proceeds down the dimly lit stairwell. As he goes on, his eyes adjust to the sight and he comes to see the extent of the vault's contents.
Rows and rows of statues line each wall leading into the distance, statues of distinguished former Academy headmasters past. They look onto everything and nothing in particular, all alike. A good several dozen statues watch the vault as a whole. At the room's centre sit a series of chests and dusty boxes, each containing treasures of immense value.
Before long, Colbert arrives at an ornately-jewelled chest beside an unhatched and dust-covered rhyme dragon's egg. Inscribed within the box's face, are words in eulogy to its former owner.
"'Treasured possessions of Simon de Mont, a Guardian and gallant protector,'" he reads the small inscription aloud, "'Lost to our world, and now kept in memories.'"
Beneath the brief passage is the image of a robed man kneeling. Colbert is able to see the faint silhouette of a raven-esque creature perched on his shoulder.
"If what Osmond says is true, then you are a man worthy of the utmost respect," Colbert says as he places a hand atop the chest.
Then, with a stern nod, the instructor lifts away the chest's lid and places it down onto the floor. There, inside, is a single black silk glove.
Colbert feels its vast magical energies swirling even as he reaches out to touch the item, let alone when he actually places his hand upon it.
"Why is it like this...?" he asks aloud, holding it aloft. "This... and the Guardian's runes..."
Letting the glove dangle loosely from his fingers, he reaches over towards the rhyme dragon's egg and uses his free hand to gently roll it over from its back. Scratched across its front and engraved into its shell are runes unique to those of the Guardians - the same meteor-like insignia etched into the back of young Michael's hand.
"You must be very lonely in this room," Colbert muses as he sets the egg back down. "Far from home, and waiting all of these years to hatch... Longer than most of our students today have been alive, if the rumours are true."
Sighing gently, Colbert returns the dragon's egg to its upright position.
Afterwards, he removes a brown cloth satchel from his shoulder and places it down on the floor. Then, opening it wide, he looks at the egg for several deeply considerate moments.
"...It is best that I take you away from this place, also." Colbert decides at last, carefully placing both the dragon's egg and Coordinator's Glove into the satchel bag. "This way, I can at least keep you safe should Fouquet or her ilk attempt to strike a second time."
Tightening the strap, he slings the bag over his shoulder. Though heavy, he carries the load back up towards the surface with optimism for what is yet to come.
Back at the staircase's landing, Osmond greets Colbert with a raised hand.
"Do you have it, Jean?" he asks, standing up off the wall.
"I do, Headmaster," Colbert tells him, glancing toward the satchel hanging from his shoulder. "What's more, I'm taking the rhyme dragon's egg with me."
Osmond's eyes widen briefly.
"Hmm. Are you really certain such a thing is wise?" the old man inquires.
"Anything not present here would be well out of Fouquet's reach, I think. That... and I am curious about something further. Walk with me, sir, and I will indulge you."
"Lead the way, Jean. And, please, don't walk too fast."
With that, Colbert and Osmond return through the vault's doors.
The soldiers get to work sealing the locks after they pass.
Colbert walks on, while Osmond follows after him with the aid of his cane, his steps short and cautious.
"I have a hypothesis, Headmaster, regarding Miss Vallière's familiar," Colbert replies, setting his steady strides one in front of the other.
The headmaster blinks with interest, letting Colbert continue.
"If it holds true," Colbert says, turning with him as they arrive at the outer doorway leading back out into academy grounds, "then it may answer some questions concerning the girl's lack of magical prowess. Perhaps those very answers will also clarify some truths surrounding the Guardian's Mark."
Guards open the outer door for the pair and they step through, and close it once they do.
"My my, well now... I'm listening," says Osmond, prompting Colbert with a grin and a wave. "Enlighten me, Jean. I've always loved a good theory."
Colbert lowers the weight of the satchel over his shoulder to reduce the strain on his back.
"In all of my years here, both as a teacher and student, I have not once seen a mage proficient in void magic. On that note, I have a question for you, sir," Colbert poses. "In your time as Headmaster, have any among the La Vallière family show proficiency in the pentagon's rare fifth element?"
Osmond hums thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing a touch.
"Are you thinking the same as I, Jean?"
"Perhaps. Just listen," Colbert affirms, continuing ahead as Osmond walks in parallel along the corridor. "If young Miss Vallière possesses the capability to cast magic and it has simply escaped her all this time, and Mister Michael was indeed summoned here as her familiar, then does it not make their bond remarkably similar to that shared by Lady Cecilia and Simon de Mont?"
"We are indeed thinking the same, it seems," Osmond affirms, running a finger along his long, grey beard. "Which means you, like I, suspect that Miss Vallière is..."
"It seems almost obvious, now," Colbert goes on. "Given that the Guardian's Mark formed when she and her familiar formed their pact. Though her powers have yet to awaken, I believe that they yet might, in time."
Osmond begins looking around.
"Yes, that is so," the headmaster utters with a pause. "Though, perhaps..."
His words trail off and his attention wanders to the satchel bag that Colbert holds over his shoulder.
Colbert stops on the spot and raises a brow.
"Is something wrong, sir?"
"Tell me, Jean. Your theory regarding the Vallière girl... It is the reason you desired permission to remove the Coordinator Glove from its place in the vault, is it not?"
Colbert relaxes his expression with a firm nod.
"Correct. If it is indeed as we both suspect, then it is essential the Glove is kept as far from unworthy hands as possible," Colbert replies. "It is now a tool at our disposal, rather than hidden away in the bowels of this academy. As for the dragon's egg I removed, well... I can only assume it is connected to all of this somehow."
"Which begs a further question, Jean," Osmond elaborates. "Why did Fouquet not take either when she had the chance?"
Colbert looks up towards the afternoon sky for a moment, his expression stern.
"Oh, I believe she would have, had I not intervened at the final moment," he replies. "In so doing, I took from her the best opportunity to do so."
Glancing back at the headmaster, he gestures the satchel bag.
"Which is why I would place the Glove in Mister Michael's hands, as a test of sorts," he admits. "After all, the damage inflicted upon a person by conjuring magic without a catalyst is documented."
Osmond nods. He then shakes his head and frowns softly.
"Indeed. That he is able to cast magic as he does already makes him something of a rarity. Worse, his doing so will only tear his body apart in the end." The old headmaster sighs deeply and shakes his head. "Just as it did poor Simon."
Colbert stiffens.
"Sir, I do not mean to overstep my mark but... What was Mister de Mont like?" Colbert asks.
Osmond smiles serenely and places a gentle hand upon Colbert's shoulder.
"One of the few figures I know who endeavoured to care for those whom even I considered lost causes. Indeed, had he joined the faculty here then..." Osmond stops, leans upon his cane, and sighs a second time. "Let us just say he and Miss Cecilia would have made fine instructors."
"I see," Colbert says, nodding with a weak smile. "Thank you for indulging my curiosity."
"You are quite welcome, Jean."
Having just returned from an afternoon class with Louise, I flop down in a chair beside my mattress bed and let out a deep sigh.
"Well, thank God that's over. Another minute of Professor Chevreuse droning on about the 'practical application of earth magic', and I would've set myself alight." I chuckle grimly and lean further back into my chair. "Makes me glad I'm done with school."
Standing with her back turned to me across the room, Louise unclasps and tosses her cloak onto the bed. Then, with a tired groan, she walks over to the bed and flops down onto it. She half rolls over and glares wearily in my direction, her cheeks a little flushed.
"...She's always been horribly boring," she groans, burying her face in a pillow.
"Yeah. Listening to her felt like History class with Mister Cooper," I concede, kicking my feet up and relaxing. "Right down to the droning voice..."
Louise gives out a weary moan into her pillow.
"If I didn't need to take this class, I would have abandoned it by now," she rues, her words muffled through the pillow.
"Guessing you don't have that option, with those noble parents of yours sending you here," I assume with a gentle chuckle. Taking my Ipod out from my trouser pocket, I unwind the headphones from around the device. "Or is it just as normal to swap classes here as it is in my world?"
Louise peers sidelong at me for a moment, quirking a brow. Then, snorting and shuffling herself upright into a sitting position, she brushes her bangs aside and scowls.
"It's the former of those two options. Unlike commoners, I don't really have much freedom in my life," she scoffs, crossing her arms. "Something along the lines of 'you are expected to learn magic' or 'you are expected to help the Royal Army,' that sort of thing. This academy is simply a boarding school for aristocrats like me to find purpose."
"That's kinda shitty," I remark with a curt laugh, shaking my head. "Back home, there's a lot more freedom. That, and there are a whole host of different problems to go with it." I press the power button on my device and the screen lights up. "You never get a break."
Still giving off that same, tired air, Louise heaves a sigh and slumps back down into her bed.
"I sometimes yearn for that sort of freedom. To be free of noble expectations..."
I perk a brow in the girl's direction.
"How so? I mean, your parents pay to keep you here. You get waited on hand and foot by servants, too. That's pretty privileged, far as I'm concerned," I point out.
Again, Louise sits up a little bit and gives me a dry glare.
"No. It isn't," she denies, her tone souring ever so slightly. "Let me explain: what a noble is meant to do, according to high society. You have to maintain and promote your family's standing and prestige," she says, opening her hands. "As such, both what one's daughter does, and when and how she does it, are of utmost importance."
That right there's some Victorian-era crap. My stomach sinks for the poor girl, it really does.
With a heavy sigh, Louise rests an elbow on her knee and her head in the palm of her hand.
I slip an earphone into my ear and pull up the lock screen.
The date causes a painful twinge in my chest.
November 18th... Mum's birthday. Or it would've been, at least.
No, Mikey... Just forget about it.
Pushing out a short breath, I unlock the screen and cycle through to my music library.
Then, I glance over to Louise again.
"Well, what do you want out of life, Princess?" I ask my pink-haired mistress. "There's gotta be something. Something more than being a nobleman's daughter, I mean."
At this, Louise appears to deflate, her shoulders sinking. Her breathing becomes heavy and she makes no effort to move from her place.
"You're the first person to ever ask me that, besides my big sister Elenor," the girl mutters quietly.
I tilt my head to one side in mild surprise and confusion.
"S'not a hard question, Princess," I say, shaking my head. "Hell. It's a basic human right where I'm from. Like I said, there's a lot more choice back home in England."
Recalling rent and utility bills, I groan and shake my head.
"There are some things I seriously don't miss, though..."
Louise heaves a weary sigh and rests a hand over her cheek, her pink eyes settling downward to the floor.
"Sadly, I'm not supposed to think that way," the young woman confesses, shaking her head. "It's beneath my station as a nobleman's daughter."
"Meaning you've never taken the time to think about it, right?" I pose, scrolling over to my Oasis playlist and flicking through.
"Precisely," Louise sighs out, shaking her head a second time. "I have done nothing, ever since coming here. Only focus on..." the girl bites her lip "...my horrible capabilities as a mage."
Forcing a pained smile at her awfully sad admission, I set the Ipod down in my lap and turn to face her fully.
"I'll tell you what then, Louise. Why not think about it, here and now?" I suggest, spreading my arms wide. "Think about what it is you want for yourself in life."
"What... I want..." she mutters, pulling her knees into her chest and cradling them.
Scowling, Louise slams a fist down into her thigh with an annoyed noise.
She goes red in the cheeks and her teeth grit, the woman's frustration more than apparent.
For several long, stressful seconds she doesn't move.
Then, it pours out of her.
"I want to cast magic properly for once! And be seen as an actual mage, as a proper noble!" Louise barks out, leaning back against the headboard. She closes her eyes, folds her arms, and braces her head against the board as if to weather a storm. "And... there is something else I want, too," she adds with reddening cheeks. "I want someone to care about me for me... and not feel suffocated by expectations."
She stops. A tear leaks from one of her eyes and trails down her cheek.
Silence reigns for a few seconds.
"See? Easier than you thought, right?" I declare with a gentle chuckle, looking over her.
Stiffly, Louise runs her fingers through her pink locks and hangs her head even lower. I can hear her shaking and muttering into her arm.
Warm tears crawl down her cheeks.
Rising from my chair and returning the Ipod to my pocket, I cross the room over to the shuddering Louise.
I have my reservations about what I do next, but... I go for it all the same.
Lightly, I rest my hands on her shoulders, and she tenses.
"Michael, I don't need your pity!" Louise snaps, sounding close to bawling her eyes out. "And I don't want your-"
Then, I wrap my arms around her and gently hug her from behind, catching her off-guard.
"Well, you already have a friend, Louise. Someone that likes you for you," I whisper, resting my chin atop her shoulder. "So, I guess we can cross one of those things off your list already, hmm?"
"Y-you... y-you... Geez, you're unbelievable," Louise responds, her voice quivering and unsure. She leans back into me a bit, her heart visibly racing in her chest. "Saying things like that as easily as you breathe..."
"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," I reply, leaning my head up a bit so I can rest my chin on her forehead instead. "And you're stuck with me, too. Well, unless we figure out a way to send me back," I tease, smirking. "Wouldn't be surprised if you want me gone anyhow, given the trouble I've caused."
My remark seems to relax Louise a little. As I reach up run a soft hand through her bubblegun locks, she slumps back into my body, all but melting.
Then, like a waterfall, Louise's emotional floodgates come crashing down.
"You make a compelling point," the young noblewoman mutters with a single, strained laugh. "Even if you are an idiot, Michael... I wouldn't wish you away. Having a friend is..."
Turning, she looks me in the eye as I sweep her tears away from her red cheeks.
"It is..." Louise stammers, squeezing her eyes shut. "It's..."
With a single, pained smile, she slumps forward and collapses against me, wrenching hard with the effort to hold herself together.
"...a wondrous thing," the pinkette manages to choke out.
"Damned right it is," I whisper gently into the girl's ear, letting her bury her face in my chest and cry, her body wracked with powerful sobs as her burdens finally spill out.
I do not move from that spot for a long, long while. Probably minutes... but it feels like hours.
Somehow, at the very least, I think I've been quite successful in comforting my mistress.
"Hey, Louise?" I mumble, petting her soft pink hair from the nape of her neck all the way up the top of her head and back down again.
Louise, who is lying down on her bed with her head in my lap, my fingers combing through her hair, sniffs and turns her head upward to look at me with damp, pink eyes.
"Yes, Michael?" the girl replies, forcing a weak smile.
"Mind if we light a candle, when we get back from Colbert's lesson, I mean?" I ask, quirking a brow at the weeping girl in my lap.
Louise pulls up an eyebrow and glances over my lap up into the sky. She appears a little embarrassed, and just a tad puzzled.
"For my mum. Today... Well, it would've been her forty-ninth birthday," I explain, shaking my head.
Louise's eyes widen.
"Oh... I imagine you would have liked to celebrate it with her," the young woman replies.
Her saying so causes the dullest ache in my chest for a good, long while.
"Not that easy, sadly. Mum... isn't around anymore."
"I-I see. How would you have celebrated?"
I push my hurt down as deep as it'll go and force what has to be the thinnest smile in the world.
"Simiple, really. I would've gone over to Dad's for the night. Then I would've stuck on a few Oasis records for her and the two of us would've gotten really, really drunk. It's what we do most years," I grin, swallowing past a lump in my throat.
I exhale a heavy, humourless laugh and shake my head.
"Damn... Just look at the two of us right now. It's gotten kinda bleak in here, huh?" I say, glancing back over to the window to distract myself. "Didn't mean to bare my soul, Princess. I suppose... it all just came out. You know, with seeing the date... and you getting so upset and all. Sorry..."
With her eyes wide, she flushes deeply and shakes her head, gripping a lock of her fringe so hard it makes me wince.
"N-no! Not at all. It's just... Well, this is the first time you have truly opened up to me, Michael... And, I..." The girl takes a moment to swallow as her blush returns full force. "I will gladly light a candle for your mother, if that is what you want."
There's a long, long pause, punctuated by her sniffles.
"She was important to you, clearly."
Grimacing, I close my eyes and rub my forehead.
"You have no idea. Pretty much everything that's happening in my life right now, it started when Mum left us," I answer quietly. "Still, there's time for that later."
Louise's back arches and she lets out a tired groan as she sits upright and stretches.
"Yes, of course," Louise answers with a small and caring smile.
Reaching over to the pocket watch sitting on her bedside table, the girl pops the lid open and checks time. A deep look settles upon her features after she finishes drying her eyes with the back of her free hand.
"It's a little past five o'clock," Louise informs me. "And I would certainly prefer to have a sandwich while we still have time. Come, let us go to the kitchens and ask Marteau to prepare a snack for us."
I raise a surprised brow.
"You're... actually going to visit the kitchen yourself...?"
Okay, who is this imposter and where the Hell is Louise?!
"Correct," Louise replies before rising up from her bed with a heavy sigh and smoothing down the front of her dress. A second passes and, with a flick of her thumb, the girl opens her bedside cabinet and reaches in to take a handkerchief. "And you will escort me, Michael."
I squint at her.
"There's gotta be a trick to this. You're normally far too classy to even consider visiting the kitchen."
Languidly, Louise rolls her eyes and strides to the door.
"Not at all. I simply wish for us to spend some quality time together, as master and familiar. I will, however, be taking my meal in the dining room, as is proper."
And there's the catch.
I chuckle and hop up from the bed.
"Meaning I'm eating out on the steps, right?" I deduce, placing my hands on my hips with a self-satisfied smirk.
Louise reaches for the handle of the door and throws it open. Then, smirking knowingly, the mage-in-training turns her head back toward me.
"Correct. Even if you were allowed in the dining hall with me, I simply cannot spoil you with too much kindness. An idiot like yourself would surely get used to it," Louise counters, snorting and wagging a playful finger at me.
"Bah! And here I thought we were getting closer, Princess. A shame," I joke, walking through the door and over to Louise.
I flash the young woman a smile.
Louise, for her part, smirks and leans in a little bit.
"Good. Now, come on."
I close the door behind us and offer a hand to the girl. Louise takes my hand and joins me, taking the lead down the long corridor. I take the time to slip my other hand into my pocket and steal another quick glance at my Ipod's screen.
November 18th. I can't help but frown softly at it.
"Everything alright?" Louise queries, her voice thick with concern as she looks over her shoulder at me.
"Sorry, yeah. It's nothin' to worry over, Princess. All on the inside," I lie through my teeth, smiling at my companion. Doubling down, I return the Ipod to my pocket and give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Just a little hung up on the date, that's all."
The pink-haired girl looks me over for a few moments, her head listing to one side and her brow coming down. She doesn't buy the act at all.
I simply draw another one of my patented cocky grins for her. A thin shield to protect myself.
"I'm fine, Louise, really," I assure the girl.
My ever-caring master scrutinises me, biting her lip.
"Well... If you say so," Louise sighs, shifting her head forward and tightening her grip around my fingers a little. "I don't believe you, though."
"Hmm..." I hum, the two of us reaching the downward reaching staircase.
And, hand-in-hand, we begin down the stone steps together.
Last thing I want to do is worry Louise with my problems. It was kinda silly letting all of my feelings slip out in the first place, honestly. I was just trying to support her, but my mouth really got ahead of itself, as it has a habit of doing.
I should... keep my distance, or I could end up worrying the poor girl too much.
I'm her familiar, after all. Her stressing over me isn't right.
...
My mistress and I wait outside Colbert's classroom after having sandwiches.
Thankfully, Louise's request for food only stressed out Marteau slightly more than usual. Probably because she didn't ask for anything elaborate.
The classroom door is closed and locked. Colbert hasn't arrived yet, either.
"Guess he's running a little bit late," I assume with a shrug.
From the moment I glance in her direction, I see Louise checking her pocket watch.
"It's five minutes past," Louise states, straightening. "It isn't like Professor Colbert to be late like this."
Quirking a brow, I clasp my fingers behind my head and exhale a short sigh.
"Guy's probably just getting dinner or something, I'm guessing," I presume, shrugging my shoulders. "Maybe we should go look for him ourselves."
"... No. I'll be staying here until he shows himself," Louise refuses, shaking her head. "This lesson is important for you, and I won't miss out on it, especially after seeing Fouquet's golem."
I smirk.
"Yeah, that thing was pretty damned big, right?"
For several seconds, Louise stares vacantly ahead.
"It is... hard to believe Miss Longuevuille did all of that," the girl pauses, her expression deeply thoughtful. "And that she kept her true identity hidden this whole time."
I think back to the whispers circulating during Professor Chevreuse's class this afternoon.
"You actually buy it, then? Longuevuille being the thief and all?" I ask, humming thoughtfully.
Without looking in my direction, Louise nods her head.
"Absolutely, of course," she begins, taking a deep breath. "After seeing all that happened during the Exhibition, and Miss Longuevuille no longer being here anymore, it all fits together well enough."
"Even though the teachers haven't outright confirmed it?" I follow up.
Louise lifts her chin and nods once more, sighing through her nose.
"Most are talking freely about Longuevuille, regardless. I overheard Professor Chevalier discussing her actions with one of the royal guards some twenty minutes ago," Louise shares with a tone full of discontent. "This was while you helped Marteau return our plates to the kitchen."
"As ever, the rumour mill's active as heck here. You sure you guys don't have Twitter?" I joke, cracking a smirk. "Or, you know, owl messengers or some crap?"
Louise blinks at me for a moment. "What is a... Twitter? Some sort of strange animal?" the girl questions curiously.
I bark a sharp, loud laugh.
"Nope! Good guess, though," I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "It's something from my world people use to communicate, don't worry about it."
Smiling to myself, I spread my arms out wide.
"Though, come to think of it, it would be pretty neat if you had an animal network in this world. Like, bird couriers for important information and all that," I laugh, not really all that serious.
"We have royal messengers for that, idiot," Louise declares, prodding my chest and giggling. "Although, I would enjoy an owl as a companion, in truth."
I know what gift I'm giving this young woman for Christmas next month.
Well, if they celebrate it in Tristain.
My line of thought is interrupted by footfalls down the hall.
Louise turns to the corridor and I follow suit, to see Professor Colbert heading this way. Tabitha walks in step with him and holds a book under her arm.
"Apologies for my lateness," the balding man begins, inclining his head to us. "I first had to find Miss Tabitha here. so that she might return a book I need for our lesson."
The book talking about runes that she showed me earlier, I'm guessing.
I nod and shrug my shoulders.
"Oh well. Glad you're here now, anyway, Professor," I say, turning my head to Tabitha and nodding. "Evening, Tabitha. You alright?"
From beneath her fringe, she blinks.
"I'm fine, Michael," the bespectacled girl murmurs.
Louise pulls me back from the doorway and gives a curt, polite bow of the head for Colbert.
"Miss Tabitha will be joining us for your lesson, Michael," the instructor explains, taking a key out from his inside pocket and unlocking the door. "Like myself, it seems she has quite an interest in the study of runes."
I glance down to the meteor insignia on the back of my hand, tightening my gaze on its gentle green glow.
"... Of course, no better time to try and figure it all out than now, huh?" I comment, lifting my eyes and looking to the blue-haired girl behind Colbert. "Happy to have you with us, Tabitha."
"Thank you, Michael," the girl responds quietly, without so much as a smile.
Colbert steps through the door and into his classroom. Louise, Tabitha and I follow him inside.
While the professor prepares, I sit myself down at one of the frontmost desks of the lecture hall's circle. Louise seats herself directly beside me, and Tabitha settles for a spot two seats away from her.
I watch as Colbert removes a satchel from over his shoulder and opens it out. He brings out an old black glove first. And... some sort of egg, it looks like.
Yeah, that's an egg, alright. Doesn't look like anything from my world, though. The outer shell's all leathery and- Hold up! The rune on the front matches mine...?
I examine the back of my hand, and then glance over the egg.
I repeat the process a good three times, then I nod to myself.
Yeah, the egg carries a matching insignia to my Guardian Mark!
"Uh... Professor, do you mind if I take a closer look at that?" I ask Colbert as he leans by the podium just ahead of us. "The egg, I mean."
"Certainly, Michael," he replies, walking around and then squatting down before my desk. "However, please be very careful. Headmaster Osmond and I believe it contains a rhyme dragon."
A soft gasp escapes Tabitha. I glance her way to see a small smile fixed to her lips.
I recall the Familiar Exhibition while getting out from my desk.
"A rhyme dragon, you mean like Tabitha's familiar?" I ask, honestly curious.
"Naturally," Colbert returns.
I bite back the urge to whistle, walking over to Colbert's desk. The professor follows after me.
Tabitha's eyes follow me as I squint at the egg.
"So, there's an actual living, breathing baby dragon in here?"
"Correct," Colbert confirms. "Now, if you'll hold your hand above the rune on the side..."
I cup my hands and hold them up above the mark on the egg.
And, as I do... my senses flare. It's... almost like a sense of clarity.
My every breath feels deeper and sharper. Each little sound in the room is amplified, too.
Wait... I hear... Is that a heartbeat? It's... coming from the egg!
"Professor..." I utter anxiously, removing my hands from the egg and stepping back. "Something really strange happened just now."
Hands free from the egg, my perceptions calm.
"Ah," Colbert utters, looking between the egg and myself a couple of times. "Do explain please, Michael."
"I could hear its heartbeat, Professor," I answer plainly, gesturing to the unhatched little creature. "Didn't sound weird, either. It was the most natural thing in the world."
Colbert takes out a notebook and grabs a quill from his desk, scribbling down notes quickly.
The professor inspects his writings, and I think something over.
"It's... almost like I'm in tune with the thing, somehow," I say in a low, thoughtful tone. "Like I can sense it, and it can sense me."
Colbert looks back up to me and snaps the notebook shut.
"That, in fact, may well be correct, Michael," the instructor posits. "Rhyme dragons are no simple creatures. Whether summoned as adult familiars or cared for as hatchlings, they share deep and meaningful connections with the people they imprint upon. Or, so the tomes say, at least."
Tabitha gets up from her chair and walks over to the desk, her eyes fixed squarely on mine with some serious focus. They shine bright with intrigue.
She's smiling right at me, now, and she lifts a hand for the surface of the egg, running her fingers gently against the thing's surface.
"Which means this hatchling imprinted on you, Michael," the blue-haired girl points out calmly. "Just as Sylphid did me."
Colbert wears a look of fascination at Tabitha's declaration.
"Did you and your rhyme dragon share a similar experience when you summoned her, Miss Tabitha?" Colbert asks the young woman while adjusting his glasses.
Tabitha simply nods.
"In a way, yes. Sylphid allowed me to hear her thoughts when we first met," she explains. "Of course, we did not start with perfect understanding of one another. Our communication has become easier through mutual patience over these past two weeks."
I dunno if I'm more amazed by what just happened with the dragon's egg, or Tabitha talking this much about something. The girl's usually so quiet that I forget she's in the room!
Blinking, I try to muster a thought about an unborn dragon imprinting on me, or whatever, and-
My breath catches as I feel something - a warmth in my chest.
Louise walks up to Colbert and Tabitha's side and gently grips my shoulder.
"This... this is astounding," Louise says after a moment of stunned silence. "Even amongst familiars, rhyme dragons are notoriously rare. Where did you find the egg, Professor?"
"It resided in the school's vault for many years," he explains, peering over at the egg and crossing his arms. "Alongside the Staff of Destruction, it was there for almost thirty."
That's literally longer than I've been alive!
"You've had that dragon egg stowed away on the campus for nearly three decades?!" I ask with wide eyes, astounded.
Colbert, solemn, nods.
"Indeed we have. It was left here, in truth, by the last person like yourself."
I blink and pause.
"The last person with a Guardian Mark?"
Professor Colbert nods. I glance to one of the open book pages in his classroom desk. It's the rune book Tabitha was reading earlier!
"H-hold on. I'm confused. Professor. There were others like me in Tristain...?" I ask.
Colbert inclines his head in affirmation once again.
Afterwards, he walks over to the classroom door, glances out into the hall, and then closes it.
"So none undeserving of what I'm about to share overhear us," he reasons, returning to his place by the podium.
"As I was saying, Michael, there were others like you. The last Guardian, Simon de Mont, sought refuge in this academy after being banished from his homeland of Albion. Or, at least, that is how Headmaster Osmond explained it to me."
"Refuge...? Was he on the run or something?"
Colbert gives an... uncomfortable look and bows his head low.
"What I am about to tell all of you does not leave this room, understood?" Colbert asks calmly.
The three of us all nod to that statement immediately.
My brow softens and my back straightens. Professor Colbert clears his throat and continues.
"Very well," he nods, letting out a weighted sigh. "According to Headmaster Osmond, Simon de Mont was the bastard half-brother of Albion's King James. It is said that he fled to Tristain some thirty years ago to avoid danger in Albion's somewhat ruthless royal court."
"Wait- Bastard?!" Louise lets out, covering her mouth a little.
"That makes him Princess Henrietta's uncle..." the pinkette murmurs as her eyes widen a little in turn.
I'm totally lost here. But before I can say as much, Colbert keeps going.
"Quite right, Miss Vallière. What's more, his mother being a common artisan rendered him incapable of conjuring magic."
Okay, now I'm following along again.
"Does that mean he swore a pact with a master, like I did Louise?" I ask, one brow rising up. "That allowed him to perform feats of magic?"
"A very astute question, Michael," the teacher assures me with a nod. "And you would be correct."
Louise and I spare each other a brief glance. Then, the two of us return our attentions back to the older man.
"Unfortunately, I know little else about the man. Only that he was lost to the world some five or so years before I too enlisted here as a student. That would be close to twenty-five years ago, now. While I do ask Headmaster Osmond more about his past from time to time, he remains very... cautious regarding this subject."
I want know more! There's absolutely more to all of this, I just feel it.
But, even if Colbert knew more, I don't exactly imagine he would give it out freely.
While Tabitha nods in a show of deep understanding, I offer a thoughtful hum.
"What about this Simon guy's master? What happened to them?" I question as a follow-up.
Colbert casts his gaze about the room and scratches the bottom of his chin in thought, considering the question.
"Again, I know very little," he begins, hands folding behind his back. "Only that her name was Cecilia, and, much like Miss Vallière, her magical talents were... slow to develop."
... Something isn't sitting right here. Maybe its just my imagination.
No. No it isn't. All of what Colbert's telling me ties into the vision I had when Toby awakened.
Sighing, recall hazy glimpses Simon and Cecilia's oath to each other. It's loosely similar mine and Louise's situation.
Why, though? Like seriously, why?
Dammit... I just don't know enough about this world to answer a question like that. Not yet, anyway.
"Regarding what I have shared with you, Michael," Colbert's calm voice resonates through my ears. "I would have you take this."
I turn, to see Colbert picking up the black glove from atop his desk. The fabric looks soft, almost like velvet. Donning a small smile, he reaches out and offers it to me.
"This item, known as the Coordinator Glove, was a possession of Mister de Mont's. I believe its enchantments will aid you greatly. With its use, you will better channel your magical powers in the same way a regular mage does by using a wand. Or, at the very least, that is my hope."
Slowly, carefully, I grip the glove.
Surprise ripples through me as a soothing warmth spreads up my arm and through my chest. My eyes go wide, and I raise the thing up to inspect it closely.
I inhale sharply, a cold dread filling the base of my spine as faint flashes of my recent vision invigorate my thoughts.
I see the man, Simon, slip this very same glove onto his right hand. He then raises his arm skyward, and a searing firestorm envelops the entirety of his arm! The storm only subsides as another figures moves to his side. Someone garbed in a cloak, wielding the what looks like a jewelled staff.
My eyes swim. My body flares with heat.
Then, blinking, the vision clears away.
"...Holy shit," I finally say in a quiet, awe-filled tone. "That felt really, really real..."
Colbert's brow furrows. Louise and Tabitha stare on, equally concerned, it looks.
"Are you alright, Michael?" asks my mistress nervously.
The tension leaves my body as the lingering effects of that crazy magical high fade away. I stand still, taking a minute to collect myself as I force a deep breath in, and out.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," I reassure Louise, before looking to Colbert and offering a light chuckle.
"Anyway, let's try this bad boy on, shall we?" I say to myself.
Nodding eagerly, I slip the soft-textured glove onto my right hand. Surprisingly, it fits perfectly.
"Michael."
I turn my head and look upon Tabitha.
"Forgive me, I know I rarely involve myself in a conversation," she begins coolly. "Regardless, have you ever handled a wand before?"
I shake my head.
"Can't say I have-"
Heat! It surges through my fingers like electric fire. It shoots up my arm, sends shockwaves ripping through my core, and engulfs my entirety.
"Michael?!"
The sensation subsides just a moment later, fading quickly.
Blinking a few times, I exhale heavily and slump forward against the desk.
"Sorry- Needed a moment. Bad trip, that," I murmur under my breath, mostly to myself. "God, what the fuck was that, anyway?"
Louise comes over and I lay a supportive hand over her shoulder.
I clench my free hand into a fist, observing the magical tattoo emblazoned across the back of it.
"Michael," Colbert says in a cautiously serious tone. "Perhaps you should try conjuring a spell."
Without a moment's hesitation, I begin channelling energy through my magic mark. My focus is sharper now. Distinct. Energized. Like I'm zipping between cars on the motorway with my Kawasaki bike back home in Kent.
And, without even snapping my fingers, a large, roaring blue fireball comes to life in the palm of my ungloved hand.
It's ethereal, almost. Like a ghost.
Hell. Yeah.
Etching an "x" in the air with my non-gloved hand, I clear the flame spell, and return my sights to my teacher with a sly smirk.
"I barely had to try there. Is this what it feels like when you mages use wands...?! Damn..." I quietly say to myself in amazement.
Despite everything, I keep my cool. My focus is strong. And, when looking to my mistress again, I can't help but notice pinkness flushes Louise's cheeks.
Colbert, smiling, nods.
"Judging by your experience with summoning simple spells until today, Michael, we may safely assume that this glove is aiding you well," the professor notes, pushing his glasses up a little. "At any rate, I suggest you continue practicing this evening, in preparation for tomorrow."
Though Louise looks hesitant suddenly, she ends up nodding. In the end, we're gonna need every bit of extra help to get that staff back from Fouquet.
To my left, Tabitha opens a textbook and adjusts the pages at the table.
"Visit my room if you like," the blue-haired girl offers, her eyes fixed on her book. "I'll tutor you."
After a moment of silence, Tabitha looks up to us, a little surprised.
"Oh- That is, so long as you all wish me to. My room is to the left of Kirche's."
I nod at her offer.
"I'll take you up on that sometime, Tabitha."
A slow breath exits the blunette's nose. Tabitha then shifts her gaze aside.
"Good, do knock first, though."
"Ah, yeah, understood," I simply return with a quick nod.
I shrug lightly, and turn my attention back to Colbert and Louise.
"So, there anything else I should know, Professor?" I question while scratching the back of my head.
"No more for the moment, at the least, no," Colbert concedes with a small shake of the head. "For your part, I would caution you not to push yourself, no matter how great the power that glove grants. Even with a catalyst such as a wand or staff, every mage has natural limits."
Yeah, I probably have more power with this glove, but I'm not suicidal.
Pacing a few paces left and right, the professor takes a breath and continues.
"Moving forward," the instructor begins. "I would advise we finish here for this evening and each get some rest. We will be leaving school grounds early tomorrow."
All three of us nod in understanding for the teacher as the session comes to an end.
"Very good then, dismissed," Colbert says finally.
Tabitha bows her head shortly for the instructor. Then, she picks up her book and steps out.
Louise follows after her, and I fall in at the pinkette's side.
While Colbert locks the door behind us, Louise lets out a short sigh.
"That was really quite something," Louise utters, snatching my hand into hers.
"No kidding," I answer, smirking. "Guess that makes me a real mage now, huh?"
After a moment of silence as we walk back towards the dormatory hall, she squeezes my hand and looks me over.
"...You know, Michael, becoming recognized as a proper noble takes more than just magic. Especially for one as... abnormal as yourself," the petite mage informs me as we turn down the corridor leading toward the student dorms.
I raise a brow at what Louise just old me.
"Oh, really? Indulge me then, Princess. What'll it take a guy like me?" I question with an amused tone.
"Well," she begins with that sweet, condescending lilt to her voice. "You would, outside of being knighted by Princess Henrietta, have to be held in good standing by at least one of Tristain's noble families," the pinkette informs me. "Say by courting a nobleman's daughter, perhaps..."
I pinch the bridge of my nose and scoff.
"...Oh, for fuck sakes... There's the Pride and Prejudice shit I've waited this whole time for," I murmur jokingly under my breath. "And here I thought I might sidestep it."
Louise blinks at me several times.
"Pride and Prejudice...?"
I shrug my shoulders at Louise, before stifling a quiet sigh.
"It's an old book series Anna used to read, don't worry about it. The point is- Do you expect me to try hooking up with a Duchess to get legitimized, or something? I mean, where will I even find a noble girl who'll take an outsider like me?" I ask back offhandedly as we arrive at the bottom of the stairwell.
Louise clears her throat exceptionally loudly, her cheeks burning a deep, dark red.
"Think about what you just said, idiot," the young woman mumbles while averting her gaze to the floor. "Could you be denser?"
I laugh shortly, shaking my head.
"I mean, yeah, I'm school full of them. Still, I'm like, at least six or seven years older than most of you, I'm guessing. That, and I only really know a handful of girls here."
Louise again clears her throat loudly.
So loudly it sounds painful, actually.
"You okay there, Louise? You aren't coming down with a cough, are you?"
Louise stomps a foot loudly at the floor and scowls in agitation.
"The point I'm trying to make, fool, is that at least a couple of noble girls here would gladly have you, if you asked to court them. Unfortunately for you, though, I'll have to kill you if you go anywhere near von Zerbst again," the young woman grumbles as we arrive in front of my room, Louise not letting go of my hand even as reaches for the key to her door.
I blink a few times, and can't help but feel a little... weirded out by the way Louise is acting suddenly.
The dainty mage lets out an exasperated huff, fiddling with her door handle in utter frustration.
"God, you really are as stupid as they come," the lady mage grumbles as I finally take my hand back.
Unable to help myself, I smile at her frustration.
"Was it something I said?"
Practically shuddering, Louise kicks open the bedroom door and stomps through the doorway.
As I attempt to follow her, she swings back around and presses her palm to my chest, blocking me.
"Go and practice your magic or something, stupid," Louise mumbles in a very snooty tone. "I'm taking a nap. Your stupidity makes my head hurt!"
Raising my hands with a startled expression, I step back from the door.
"Alright, alright. Damn, what's gotten into you, girl?" I mutter.
"Like you don't know," Louise shoots back as she slams her bedroom door shut.
I hear the lock click into place and let out a short huff.
Then, groaning deeply, I pull away from Louise's door and set off down the corridor.
"Women, man, I swear," I mutter to myself.
The Hell she getting so damn snappy for? I asked the girl an innocent question!
Know what? Screw it. Magic practice it is.
I extend my gloved left hand and squeeze it into a tight fist.
"Yeah, let's see what this Coordinator Glove can do."
Beats getting yelled at for no reason.
To be continued...
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