Chapter 107: Bond Levels

He watched her from a short distance away, keeping himself as silent and concealed as he could.

It was not something that could be called a skill or earned through training, rather it was merely his abilities as a mage showing their worth, even if she had been looking for him, there was no chance she was ever going to breach his concealment without decades of training in the art of looking for even the slightest hints of what he had done.

His disguise was perfect.

Another grunt, then the arrow loosened and struck the target near enough the centre.

He stepped out from the brush, moving closer and closer towards the individual until he stood not even a foot from them, yet they remained none the wiser to his sudden appearance behind them. He very much doubted they would have been capable of it, perhaps if they were more attuned to the magical energy of-

"Hello."

Goetia paused, then stared at the back of their head for a brief second.

Confusion flushed through his mind as he stared at them for several seconds.

They knew he was there?

How?

When did they-?

Illogical.

Everything regarding his nature had been concealed from them.

So then how were they able to see him?

They turned around a moment later, unaware of the thoughts that circled through his mind, a cordial smile came across their face as they stared at him, remaining ignorant to nature of his own vacant expression.

"...You knew I was here?"

A nod of the head.

Then Petra turned and looked down towards the ground. "It was very tough. You moved with the silenced-...Very quietly, I could not even hear you. But then I noticed the shadow upon the grass, I assumed it might have been Shamir."

The girl raised her head back up and smiled at him rather innocently. "Like you, she is also very camouflaged when she wishes it."

Goetia could only stare at his shadow cast across the ground for a few moments, his jaw tightened as frustration welled up inside him.

Of all the utterly foolish things that could have betrayed him, it was his own shadow? Rather, it was his failure to take the sun into account. Still, that said more for the abilities of Shamir that she could reach such a state according to Petra, but that was ultimately beside the point at the moment.

At least, in part.

He had wished to see how observant of her surroundings she truly was.

But he had not expected her to discover him as swiftly as she had.

No matter.

His eyes came back up from the ground, meeting that of the girl before he walked forwards, moving around her and towards the direction of the target, moving half way between the two of them before he stopped and regarded the damage for a few moments.

"Information regarding the nature of Brigid was difficult to come by within Fodlan." He stated after a few moments of silence, hearing nothing by means of reply but feeling the pointed gaze of Petra on the back of his head. "In truth, it was a shameful amount of time before I learned that it even existed…but still, the culture of Brigid eludes me, save for the few details related to matters of hunting."

Turning around, he offered Petra a single nod. "I see that the rumours were not exaggerated, you already have some level of skill brought on with experience…though I assume you are just as skilled when it comes to combating moving targets, no?"

A blink of surprise, then a slow nod of the head with just a touch of strain. "I have experience in killing the moving victims. But I did not have as much time in the forests to hunt as others did, I am a novice when put with others of my home."

She was young.

It was expected.

"All the same, utilising your archery in such an orthodox manner seems to be…limiting."

He did not mean it as a strong criticism, but he saw the eyes of the girl narrow just a bit with intrigue, there was no insult at his words, but he had drawn her focus with them. Petra angled her head ever so slightly, bow kept at her side. "Are you saying that I am doing the bow wrong?"

"I assume that your people are not unfamiliar with tactics of hiding and waiting."

A shake of the head.

"Perhaps it would be more beneficial if you pursued a tactic that was closer to your own specialty, given you likely have experience in that manner of hunting. Taking refuge in bushes or trees and waiting for prey to present the perfect opportunity to strike. Altering your clothing to match the colours of the shrubbery or branches is…a simpler task."

Petra watched him for a few moments, then thinned her lips. "That would be…more comfortable but it does not sound smartest-..." a wince. "Wise. I am in Fodlan to learn the ways of the people, if I did not try to fight like they do, then I am not learning all there is to know of the land."

He angled his head. "Is learning the manner of their combat so important?"

The girl nodded her head. "For us, how we fight and kill is the nature of the living. To show respect to the prey…The fighting of Fodlan is different. They are…not the same as we are. They see it as more civilised than we do, if I do not try and change, then they will not see me as taking this the serious."

"Surely that does not extend to the field of battle in situations such as this?"

"I am not sure." Petra admittedly rather quietly before shaking her head after a second or two. "Even if it does not. I still wish to learn. There is much talk about the chivalry…Ashe has mentioned it several times during some conversations. The fighting of a knight. So I wish to see what the fighting of a knight is like."

That sounded…

Goetia kept his face blank as the words cycled around in his mind.

She had heard of the fighting style of knights from Ashe and wished to attempt it for herself? That was…unexpected.

"I see." He replied slowly, bringing his head up and down before he paused, then frowned. "Though I question the wisdom of attempting a fighting style that you yourself have limited practice with, though I cannot fault the capability of archery in any capacity. Ranged combat holds distinct advantages over close."

He brought his hand up, then cupped his chin. "My only form of advice would be unnecessary. You do not need me to remind you that versatility is a useful trait when it comes to combat."

Petra smiled once more, this one a touch sympathetic. "Your concern is welcome."

He assumed she meant appreciated.

His eyes returned to the target, watching it for a few moments. "Would you prefer a more challenging target?"

When his eyes returned to Petra, he was met with a face of far greater interest than before, the girl inclined her head before speaking. "When you speak of more difficult targets. Do you mean to cook the earth into-I mean shape the dirt into something smaller and faster?"

"You speak along the correct lines, yes." The confirmation was coupled with him raising his single arm, light danced between his fingers before it shifted and coiled together. The shape of a bird formed in his grasp, small enough to be the size of a sparrow, the body consisted of what appeared to be a single line of string that shifted over itself to form the creation.

"Though making the birds with dirt would not provide nearly enough of a challenge." A side eye towards the girl as he spoke further. "They travel at faster speeds than a regular bird, provided you can strike these from the air with adequate consistency, then loosening your arrows upon horse riders or unmounted infantry will be a simpler task."

The white bird fluttered its wings, tilting its head at him before shifting it's focus towards Petra.

Her eyes remained on the bird before they brought themselves towards him. "Is that not difficult for you to make?"

"A trivial effort."

She seemed mollified by his answer.

The bird took off in the next second, her eyes flickered towards it in the next moment and made efforts to track it down. Goetia started to walk towards her, already she was in the midst of readying her bow and drawing the arrow back, eyes sweeping through the skies and to the bushes as they trailed after the bird.

"Can I be asking a question?"

Goetia glanced to her, it was only when he made to walk past her that she actually spoke to him. "Should you not be focused on striking the target?"

Petra was not long in responding. "Battles can be the mess. It is difficult to concentrate on one thing when there is lots of noise. Talking to you will help me do many tasks at once."

Training in multi-tasking?

Very well.

"For that purpose, I can linger here for some moments longer." He replied smoothly, turning himself back around and keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Though I would temper my expectations, it would have been easier for you to focus on multi-tasking while making efforts to land accurate shots upon a stationary target, rather than an exceedingly mobile one."

A hum from Petra. "That is maybe the correct, though I still wish to make the try all the same."

"...Very well." Goetia saw no reason to decline her words, rather, they worked out in his favour as well. Working towards the same level of goal as Fujimaru Ritsuka, that being to build some level of bond with those around him. "However, I find myself unsure as to what manner of topic you would discuss with me."

"You are also a foreigner to Fodlan."

"...I am."

"What were the stories of your home like?"

Goetia glanced at her briefly. "Stories?"

"Ashe has been telling me of the knights." Petra explained rather quickly, though he detected the note of fondness when she spoke of the encounter, clearly holding it in high regard. "I am impressed with his passion for them. We have warriors in Brigid, but not like knights. So I am wondering, does your homeland know of any such warriors like that of the knights?"

Oh, so she just wished for him to tell stories?

…He knew a great many.

"I am familiar with many tales regarding knights, though their deeds would be…varying in tone. Truly, some of the times of Camelot and the era of the Paladins were times rife with troubles and bewildering circumstances…some would argue that it was both the best and the worst times of humanity."

He frowned at the thought.

Camelot was…the standard to which knightly orders were held.

Especially on account of the King of knights.

That being said…it sounded as though Ashe and Petra held some manner of bond when it came to the discussion of knights, thus for him to encroach upon that would be to benefit from the groundwork already laid down by another. He had little interest in building upon another's foundations, it would be utterly pathetic of him.

"So there are other knights? That is most interesting."

Petra took a breath and loosened an arrow, Goetia watched it vanish into the treeline, a thud soon after.

The girl did not look disappointed in the least, merely reaching for another arrow and nocking the bow once more and taking aim, searching for the bird as it flew.

"But in relation to my own homeland…One of the more widely regarded tales was that of David and Goliath."

Petra briefly paused. "David and Goliath?"

"My…" Goetia paused for a moment, then he closed his eyes. "...David was the father of my creator."

"Your grandfather?" She turned on him with raised brows, then looked with a rather small amount of astonishment. "Your grandfather is a great warrior?"

Goetia made a sound, he would have called it mocking if it was not mixed with mirth at such a comment. "King David was a great many things, though very few of them would have been to refer to him as a great warrior…Though, in the end, he was only human. His mistakes weighed upon him until the very end. Regardless…David did not begin his life as a king, initially he was a shepherd."

Petra blinked once more, then tilted her head. "A shepherd…he was a guardian of animals?"

"...Yes." He nodded to her. "Meagre beginnings, as one might say."

He continued on.

If there was something of value to be found in the tale, it was that even the most daunting of foes could be bested by the most unlikely of individuals.

And that aiming for the head was a viable tactic.


"What's this I hear about you being a storyteller?"

Goetia glanced towards Dorothea before he returned to the item in front of him. "You have spoken with Petra recently then?"

The brunette leaned forwards, placing her elbows on the table and pressing her hands under her chin to keep her head upright. An almost coy smile on her lips, were it not for the genuine intrigue that she held. "It was something she let slip in regards to you dropping in on her training, though it was mostly on account of me hearing something about the two of you coming back together."

He hummed in affirmation. "And you fancy yourself the rival of Von Riegan when it comes to keeping your focus on word of mouth?"

"Hardly." The girl chuckled. "Merely that I was curious enough and happen to quite like Petra…and I am rather fond of you, so I was a touch intrigued as to what two of my well liked companions were discussing with one another."

That was not her usual manner of speaking.

He slid his eyes towards her, a brief glance at her face to see if she even realised what she had done. There was no doubt that it had been purposeful, but to what end would she possibly have done something like that? It was hardly a problem…or perhaps this was merely the result of her education?

No, he doubted that would change much.

"You're staring at me very intently there." The girl leaned back, raising up a hand and then fanning the front of her face. "It's making me feel rather flushed at the moment, or are you saying that I'm too dazzling to take your eyes off me?"

That was more like what he expected from her.

"Merely noting the change in your vocabulary." He shifted his focus away from her. "You do not need to alter your preferred manner of speaking when you are in my company."

"Oh? How do you know I wasn't changing it for some other reason?"

"Because I have no doubts that such a thing would be out of character for you…Besides, your curt manner of speech is one of the more laudable aspects of your person, I prefer you not spoil it with overly verbose words."

"...Well, if you're going to ask so nicely…" A swift reply and an unbothered shrug of the shoulders soon followed. "Though I am a little bit interested about something, or rather, I'm a little surprised with how quickly you went to work. You did say that you were going to be taking a more active role as a member of the Black Eagles, however briefly."

"And I intend to follow through with that declaration." He finished with a nod of the head, briefly pausing and leaning forwards to examine the work. A quirk of the lips, he blew the sawdust away from the shape and set it down, nodding once in satisfaction at the work before shifting his focus to one of the finer carving tools.

"Which includes speaking with your peers and assisting them…Though I admit there is another matter…"

He heard the creak of wood, knowing full well that Dorothea was leaning forwards once again and she was doubtless wearing a face of naked intrigue, eager to hear all about the slip that he had let loose.

She seemed to have a vested interest in his personal life.

"Oh?"

"...Fujimaru Ritsuka worked with those under his command for a whole year." He replied after a moment. "Not just in battle, but in all things…they worked together, engaged in frivolous distractions, suffered infighting many times, recruited their old foes into their company and many other actions that were utterly illogical…but totally human."

A shift, he turned on Dorothea and saw a faint blossom of understanding.

"Oh, I see what this is." With a hum, she nodded her head once. "You're putting yourself in their position to see what all of that is really like. Working and living with us as fellow students."

"You understand swiftly." A pause. "Does that trouble you?"

"In what way?"

"I am merely using this matter - an otherwise important set of circumstances for your academic years - as a means of progressing my own curiosity. In truth, it was that desire which birthed the suggestion to Seteth to allow the inclusion of reinforcements in the Battle of Eagle and Lion…Though, I will not deny that I perhaps would have reached the conclusion regardless."

Dorothea released a soft sigh, her fingers drummed on the table. "I believe that people do what they wish to do that makes them happy. Sometimes that ends up making other people happy as well. I enjoyed my time as a songstress, not just because it made others happy…but because it gave me a good life."

A shrug, she smiled lightly. "I believe that if you're truly serious about wishing to work with us and form such close friendships, then you'll come to see it as a bit more than an experiment. After all, if you aren't truly serious about it, then you'll never learn anything, will you?"

That…was true.

Still, he was expecting something more akin to indignation.

He was using them for his own goals, though perhaps there was a difference to be found in this meagre method because it benefited them as well? It was more understandable.

"Hmph. Setting that aside, are you not curious about what my current activity is?"

Dorothea's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Well, I was planning on letting you carry on with it, but if you're so desperate to tell me about it, then I am sure that I could spare the time to listen to you…" she smiled rather smugly. "So, is this another of the toys that you are making for Anna? I've heard some rather good things about those in regards to the town…very popular."

He suppressed a scoff.

It was only natural.

They were created by him, their quality was certain to capture the attention of the humans who were more accustomed to goods of lesser quality.

"That should go without saying." Was his simple reply to that. "...But there is also the problem in that Anna has managed to sell my services as a sculptor to a small church who are in need of a refurbished statue of the Saint Seiros."

"Oh my." Dorothea chuckled lightly. "That seems to be a rather large leap from wooden toys, doesn't it?"

"Hmph. Anna is rightfully confident in my capabilities as a mage and my capacity to fulfil the task. Indeed, that is not what concerns me."

"Oh?"

"I am troubled by the possibility that I will merely create a statue of the Archbishop instead."

Dorothea immediately coughed.

He barely registered it.

Ignoring the fact he had not been properly consulted before the sale had occurred, he could not create a false idol of Seiros when he knew what the true Seiros actually looked like. Given that she was in the Monastery at this very moment, he had seen the statues of the woman in the cathedral and he barely noticed the resemblance between the two.

Obviously it was by design, but that was beside the point.

He was unsure if his pride would allow him to purposefully sell incorrectly designed idol to a Church of Seiros, it was nothing short of a scam.

Goetia was not a scammer.

He would not bear the accusation that he peddled in schemes like some simple con-man.

Dorothea was still coughing.

Shifting his attention to her, he regarded her with a raised brow and watched as she stared at him with owl wide eyes and reddened cheeks, evidently she was somewhat surprised by his answer, judging by the shocked look on her face, though it swiftly faded away and into a light blush, a smile soon came to her.

"W-well, I suppose you would probably associate the Church of Seiros with Archbishop Rhea, wouldn't you? That would be a bit of a problem…But there is always the statue of the Saint in the cathedral, isn't there?"

Goetia rolled his jaw and scoffed. "Plagiarism. I would not lower myself to making some pitiful copy of another's work, to even think of it…It sickens me. Whether I approve of the task or not, I have a contractual obligation to provide them with my own works and that is what I intend to do."

"A-and this involves the Archbishop, how?"

"She is the face of Seiros."

"True enough…Especially with the Western Church gone." A low mumble, the girl cupped her chin and rubbed it. "Well…what sort of statue of Seiros were they after?"

"...Regal." He replied slowly, pinching his brows together. "I believe the words used related to her work from before the war of Heroes and the fall of Nemesis. From when she was a prophet and not a Saint…Though I find that bemusing, given her notoriety was truly earned during the War of Heroes."

It would only make sense for her statues to depict Seiros as a warrior, rather than a prophet.

"Well…you could just say that the Archbishop served as inspiration, couldn't you?"

Goetia paused.

It was…a simple solution.

His lips pursed.

Artistic interpretation of the past, was it?

He could manage that, he supposed.

"Hmmm. Yes." A mutter, he swiftly returned to work. "I could make do with such actions, though I suspect there would remain the problem of it being considered too close to the likeness of Rhea…but perhaps that is indeed cause for minor alterations. It is the statue of the Saint Seiros, it should not matter so long as that is provided."

He could alter some features easily enough.

Give the face a less youthful visage.

Change the style of hair.

It was stone, very few would notice.

"I shall begin work when I have the time…Perhaps Rhea could assist me on that matter, unless she has something else that she would consider more useful, but I suspect she has experience in being asked to remain unmoved for extended periods of time, the portraits did not materialise instantly."

Silence.

He had expected a reply by now.

Goetia looked at Dorothea and raised a brow.

What was with that curious look that she was giving him?

"...Sounds like a wonderful time." She replied after a few moments, smiling rather widely as well and appearing to be on the verge of laughter.

Odd.

No matter.


He stepped opposite the figure, his expression remained blank as he watched them.

As if to counter his apathetic nature, their own face was on of apprehension, weighing up the axe in their hand and looking between it and him several times, then they removed once hand from the blade and held up a raised palm towards him, on the verge of cringing.

"Doesn't this seem a little bit unfair?"

Goetia raised a brow. "If you refer to my lack of limb and weapon, then-"

"Huh? Oh, not that." Caspar quickly corrected himself with a shake of the head, then pointed to himself. "I've seen what your physical strength is like. It's actually pretty scary, probably up there with Prince Dimitri…I'm more worried about whether or not I'm going to get knocked out in one punch here or…you know…die."

Ah.

Yes.

That would be a greater concern.

"There is no need for alarm, I am not utilising enhancement magic upon myself, the manner in which we fight will be totally without magical energy on my part, merely a contest of skills."

Caspar looked hesitant for a moment, then tilted his head. "So…is this training for me or for you? Because-"

"Both." He answered before they could finish. "If I am to step into battle without the use of said enhancements, then it would only be logical for me to hone my skills against those who managed to gain enough ground to challenge me in physical combat. Thus I am sparring with you in the effort of contending with that scenario."

He pointed towards the axe. "Hence the training axe, as opposed to a metal one. Neither of us make improvements if you are incapacitated before you can even reach a single hair on my head. So then…" pivoting his hand, he beckoned with it. "Come at me, I believe is how you would phrase it."

A basic taunt.

Though, despite what he would otherwise show, this was a handicap in more ways than one.

If he was to make an accurate comparison, he had limited himself to such a terrible extent that the only other time he had felt so vulnerable was when he had only seconds left of life within him on the Temple against Fujimaru, this would have been the first instance since that time.

Not even when he fought Dimitri during that first training mission had he felt so exposed.

…Was this how Fujimaru felt?

He could not deny the possibility.

It was…strange, in a small way.

"Alright then." Caspar shrugged his shoulders, then brought the axe across and braced it with both hands, eyes narrowed and body tilted. The boy dropped forwards and exploded into a full on sprint.

Goetia shifted his centre of gravity, turning his body side on and raising his lone hand.

It was jarring, the level of difference.

But not overly so.

He had experience in fighting more capable foes hand to hand and he had bested them, though there had been mitigating circumstances at the time. Such as his existence being akin to a God.

But the principle remained the same.

Caspar shifted his body and swung when he was close enough, drawing the axe down and aiming it towards his collarbone. Goetia followed the trajectory of the weapon and twisted at the last moment, sweeping his hand across and driving the back of his knuckles into the flat of the axe.

It was diverted off course just enough to skim past his shoulder, he stepped forwards and thrust forth with a jab, catching Caspar in the cheek and jolting the young man back. Though, to his surprise, they swiftly freed one hand from their axe and caught his wrist, he managed to glimpse Caspars triumphant gleam.

At least until he shifted his wrist and wrenched it free of the boy, pulling them forwards and swinging his own head down with as much force as he could muster. Clearly Caspar had not been expecting the headbutt, given the surprise that flashed across his face once he realised what Goetia's intention had been.

Far too late to do anything about it as he drove his forehead into Caspars own, the boy stumbled backwards and away from him in a slight daze.

Goetia burst forth, though his own vision had whited slightly from the blow, a dull stinging sensation across the front of his head. Another thrust of the hand caught Caspar in the same cheek as before, this time turning his hand as he punched and throwing Caspar's neck to the side, and the boy into a stagger.

He moved forth.

Then stopped and brought himself above, Caspar reversed the direction of the axe and swung up towards Goetia's face. He managed to bring his body about and raise his arm, blocking the axe just beneath the head, fighting to keep his face even as the force of the blow battered against his exposed wrist.

Were human bones truly this feeble?

No matter.

He turned the arm, then dragged it down, grasping the axe by the shaft and jerking forwards while twisting his arm over the pole at the same time, his elbow found a home in the cheek of Caspar, feeling the thud of the impact, he pulled at the exact time he struck home and ripped the axe free of the young man's grasp, tossing it aside with a sharp crack in the distance.

Then he kicked Caspar just below the knee, striking just right that their entire knee jerked from the force against the nerve bundles.

Caspar made strained nose.

Goetia silenced him with another punch.

Caspar dropped like a puppet without strings.

He paused, then stepped back.

Slowly, he brought his hand up and examined it.

Then he closed his eyes and angled his head back, staring up towards the sky as the pain started to creep in, starting around his index finger and slowly spreading across in a wave of pinpricks. It was the first time he had experienced a sensation like it as a result of one of his own attacks.

He'd bruised himself with that last punch, or caught their cheek bone with one of his knuckles at an unfortunate angle and caused a touch more damage to himself than he intended. Shaking his hand several times, as if to fling the pain from his body, he hummed quietly while letting the sensation linger.

It was informative.

Turning around, he took several steps away from the unconscious boy and raised his hand, lowering his eyes down and staring at his finger for a few moments. It had been his index finger that struck first and he could feel the prickling sensation around the second knuckle.

There was no bruise yet, but he was sure that it would not be long before one formed on his finger.

He turned around, then glanced down at Caspar face down on the floor for a couple of seconds.

It would not be a lie to say he had underestimated them, but perhaps it had been a mixture of his own lack of experience as well. He had, perhaps, overestimated his physical capabilities, or rather he had underestimated the endurance of his body when it came to receiving blows, he had often improved it with magical energy to better protect himself.

His hand clenched.

The healing magic pulsed across the ground for a single instant, the damage he felt righted itself in a single moment and he no longer felt the sharp pain in his finger. Opening and closing his hand, he turned it over and expected it further, satisfied that he possessed no further wounds upon himself.

It was not much longer until Caspar jerked back into consciousness.

At which point he had demanded a rematch.

Goetia obliged.

It was a fruitful experience.


Bernadetta was rightfully terrified.

It had been several days since Goetia had joined their class.

And she had heard horrible things.

She had seen horrible things.

Namely Caspar boasting about how he and Goetia were sparring buddies.

Which, coupled with the black eye that he had been wearing at the time, left her feeling more than a little terrified at what would happen to her if he managed to corner her. It was clear that he was going around trying to approach all of them, but he hadn't come to her just yet…

But she wasn't a fool.

It was only a matter of time before he singled her out and then found somewhere isolated and quiet.

Then he would strike.

He would make her do terrible things like go outdoors or training…or talking.

She dreaded the social interaction he would force upon her.

It was why she was limiting the time she ventured beyond her room towards the end of the days, approaching night when everyone would more or less be asleep, that was the perfect time for her to get out and get some food. It would definitely be the moment in which she could avoid Goetia.

The plan was perfect, she saw no flaws.

Her door creaked open, her eyes glanced through the crack and looked left and right.

No immediate sign of anything in front of her.

She pulled it open a little further, then pushed her head out and shifted her focus around and sweeping her eyes across the entire place in front of her. It was still the little tavern they were staying in, but she did hear some rumours that it wouldn't be long before they were all moved back into the dorms at the monastery at least.

She turned around, then glanced towards her roommate.

They were still asleep, which was good.

Waking them up would be a terrible idea.

With a breath, she turned back around and pulled the door open, stepping into the hallway and giving it another sweeping look. Not a single sign of anyone out there, which was perfectly fine with her. She turned around, gripped the handle of the door and slowly pulled it shut until she heard the click.

A few seconds passed.

Another breath escaped her, she turned around.

Red eyes stared down at her, a shadow cast itself over her.

Bernadetta jumped back, her mouth opened to scream.

She managed only a muffled noise as a hand clamped down over the front of her mouth, stopping the cry from escaping.

"Screaming now would awaken everyone in the lodging…You would hardly wish your nightly escapade to have an audience, would you?"

It took her a few seconds to clear away her panic, which was completely justified, and realise that it was Goetia who had somehow managed to appear without making a single sound.

It meant only one thing.

She had failed to escape him, but more than that, his words lingered in her mind for a few good seconds before they fully registered. The blood rushed from her face at the mere thought of her scream waking everyone up, there was no doubt in her mind that she would pass out from the embarrassment.

No, she wouldn't pass out.

She would certainly die from it.

"I thought not."

Those words were followed by the hand being removed from the front of her face, she briefly moved her own fingers up and touched around the area she had been grabbed before lowering them back down, her eyes flickered towards the red orbs, a flinch escaped her as she swiftly turned away from them.

"Fortunately you are similarly awake at this hour. Come."

Goetia turned and started to walk, she felt the silent pressure that he exuded, all but demanding that he accompany her as well.

Bernadetta slumped her shoulders, her feet dragged along the floor as she followed after the man.

"Do not drag your feet, it will damage your footwear."


They were just beyond the town gate when they finally stopped.

Bernadetta flinched when Goetia came to a stop and looked around, his head nodded up and down before he spoke. "This is a suitable enough distance from prying eyes and the location is expansive enough…Yes, it will suffice for this simple task."

He turned around, eyes locked onto her as he reached across into his right side where the mantle of his cape hung down, Bernadetta felt her heart rate increase as she watched the slow movement, she could already tell what it was going to be. He had waited until it was the dead of night and no one was around.

Her hands flew up and she dropped down, hurling herself into a ball and making her body as small and well protected as she could possibly manage.

Death did not immediately claim her.

The confusion flickered to the forefront of her mind, arms parted a little and allowed her a small glimpse through the gaps, she stared at Goetia from their short distance, he stared down at her with his own brows pinched together, along with a rather annoyed expression on his face, hand still reaching under his shoulder cape.

"...You did not truly believe that I would bring you to this place for such a barbaric purpose, did you?"

"...No."

He didn't look like he believed her, a scoff later and he withdrew the hand and exposed what he was holding to the outside world.

Just like that, the panic faded almost entirely.

"Oh, the finch."

Pulling herself back to her feet, she made the awkward comment as she dusted down her clothes and rolled her lips inwards, glancing between the finch which was truly starting to come into his own colours now, the scarlet red feathers and the golden accents around the wings were becoming more prominent compared to when she had last seen them.

But there was still a bit of ruffage to them.

She would say that it would probably be another week before they might start flying.

"...Flauros, yes."

It took her a second to realise what Goetia had said was not an awkward yawn but was an actual word.

Her eyes returned to him and widened just a little, it sounded as though he had actually named the finch. Given what he had said last time, that was something of a surprise to her, especially because he made it sound like naming the bird was a waste of time.

So…did he want to show the finch off in private?

"It has been nearly two weeks since the finch has been found, I would estimate it at being fifteen days old, I believe it was at this point that they are started to be encourage to venture from the nest, thus I believe it would be best that I engage in exercises to encourage it to use it's wings."

That…made sense?

She knew that birds did that sort of thing, but that didn't explain why she was here.

"S-so…I'll just let everyone know that-"

"You will remain here." Goetia wasn't even looking at her as he spoke. "This is both my opinion as a peer and as a lecturer. When the time comes for me to teach the process of familiar bonding, this is a method that you will find most useful…given your lack of enthusiasm for venturing into the outside world."

He said that like it was a bad thing.

She was very happy in her room.

"This presents an opportunity for you to build some measure of bond with your familiar to limit the need for control over them. I believe it would suit you to have some manner of field mouse and bird for the purpose of observation."

Goetia paused, then lowered the finch slightly and looked towards her. "Though…You are the only other individual who is aware of the existence of the finch as being alive…and I doubt Rhea would approve of me barging into her bed chambers during the waning hours of the day for a second time without consequences."

Bernadetta froze.

…It was probably best that she forgot that sentence entirely.

What sentence?

Exactly.

Setting aside the sentence that never happened, it sounded as though Goetia just wanted someone else here…and she already knew about the finch in the first place, but once again, she was unsure as to what she was supposed to do.

"Stand in front of me and cup your hands together."

Bernadetta blinked, then hesitated for a few seconds.

It wasn't until Goetia gave a rather impatient look that she actually started moving, soon standing before the man and cupping her hands in front of her. Goetia nodded his head up and down, then moved the hand with the finch up, lowering it down into her palms and taking a step back.

The finch - Floor-ros? - flopped a little before sitting down, their head came up and looked towards her, then tilted as a small beeping sound escaped the bird, sharply turning away and to Goetia before continuing the beeping sounds.

"I have noticed an affection for these specific species of grubs beyond all others."

Goetia held a worm.

Bernadetta didn't bother to hide her mild disgust, souring her features ever so slightly but finding it somewhat cute how the little finch froze up at the sight of the worm, especially when Goetia rolled the bug into the centre of his palm holding it flat and then moving it forwards until there was perhaps a finger length of distance between their two hands.

"This will serve as a suitable motivator for Flauros to cross the distance without forcing them into a zone of poor comfort."

While she could understand what he was talking about, there was something that was a little odd to her.

"Have…uhm…have you been keeping them inside your clothes all this time?"

Goetia stared at her.

She quickly turned her eyes down and avoided making contact with his gaze.

Perhaps it was for the best that she didn't get an answer from him at all.

Yes, that was definitely for the best, there was no need to say or do anything that could potentially attract the irritation of the disturbingly powerful and very scary man who could move silently and ambush her without ever being heard. And who was now alone with her with the only witness to whatever happened here being a finch that made beeping sounds.

It was best that she not do anything-

"Where else would I keep them?"

Her thoughts ground to a halt.

Her eyes climbed back up, though she found it was Goetia who had broken contact with her this time, instead he looked down towards the actions of the finch, whom she could still feel rolling around in her hand as they tried to move forwards and towards the edge of her fingers to the worm.

"Don't…don't you have anywhere else?"

"No." Goetia replied. "I take Flauros with me at all times to ensure they are no in immediate danger, both of discovery and any other manner of complications. Furthermore, it is convenient for me to spend as much time in the proximity of Flauros as possible, to get them accustomed to the sounds of human speech and the noises of battle."

He grunted.

"If they are to serve as my eyes and ears beyond the Monastery, it would hardly do for them to flee at the first sign of battle."

Alright, fair enough.

"...Where do they sleep?"

"...In a nest that I constructed from scrap cloth and support sticks."

"No, I mean…where do they sleep when you sleep?"

"On the table beside my head."

Bernadetta watched him for a few more seconds, waiting to see if there was going to be further elaboration.

There wasn't.

"O-oh…okay."

Her eyes returned to the bird as it continued to awkwardly flop between her own palms and Goetia's.

This was hardly the worst thing in the world, she supposed.

At least it was quiet.