There was no time.
Sergei's arms reflexively shot up to shield him-
Meiling's fist banged through the cross-guard, her knuckles delivering a blow that shocked through him.
He'd never been hit so hard. He tried to cry out as he felt the bones in his forearms creak, but no sound left his mouth.
It moved him, sending him crashing against the gate, jarring his shoulders.
"You should have stayed out of the way! Why did you not let me kill her?! Let me kill her!" Lady Midday howled in his ear.
Sergei did not hear her, his arms still raised in a cross, every limb shaking.
Meiling was on her knees, a hand on the road.
"She's done! Kill her! Just turn your shoulder and I'll do it!" Lady Midday went on.
Sergei hesitated, his head filled with unchristian thoughts about the thing that rode him.
The hesitation was enough for Sakuya to get in the way again.
This time, she'd recovered one of the thug's knives as well as having drawn her own.
"Do not..." Sergei managed, every breath a chore.
"Come no closer!" Sakuya shouted, the very act of defiance throwing a shudder through her.
Sergei took a juddering step forward. Sakuya's knees trembled.
Sergei smiled, recognising the compulsion at work, slowly clenching a fist. One blow to the head and she'd be down.
He stepped forward again. Sakuya wilted, her blades wavering. At this rate, her disloyal behaviour alone would knock her out. One more step and he'd have her.
"I have you squarely, sir." A flat, emotionless voice said behind him.
He froze. He turned his neck, looking over his shoulder at the newcomer; a short girl in purple pyjamas stood inside the gate, sporting purple hair, staring down a weathered crossbow's sight with her purple eyes.
"Any closer to either of our employees, and I'll fill your head with bolts." Patchouli promised. Down the path, the doors of the mansion opened behind her.
"And if you miss?" Sergei asked.
"I'll reload and try again." Patchouli said evenly.
Sergei felt a touch of dismay as he saw a jumble of girls shorter than Patchouli hurry out of the mansion. Each sported a pair of translucent, almond-shaped wings, each were dressed as maids, and all were armed, some better than others.
He saw feather dusters, brooms and mops being brandished like weapons, which might've been amusing in any other situation. The other weapons being wielded were not so easy to ignore; he saw shortbows, knives, the curved blades of the turks, adequately sized for their diminutive owners. Other fairies were weighed down by black-powder rifles, spears and shields, and some fairies were even dragging polehammers and halberds down the path.
Sergei tried to unclench his fist. He tried to untense his leg. He tried to settle his breathing.
His body refused to comply.
"Do. something." He whispered to the Lady.
"I don't know what she did to you. I can lessen the pain, but..." The Lady's ghostly voice groaned.
"The maid belongs to my boss." Sergei shouted over his shoulder to Patchouli.
"In good time, perhaps she'll be returned," Patchouli replied, "In any case, it looks like you're in no position to dictate terms.
Your meridians have suffered quite the shock. So too have your nerves, that which motivates your body. You're dead on your feet-" She coughed hard, the crossbow's point wavering, "Dead on your feet." She finished, her voice a croak.
The kneeling Meiling swayed, then slumped against the road's surface. The armed fairies behind Patchouli rattled nervously as Sakuya rounded to see to her.
"It seems I won't have to finish her myself." Sergei muttered.
"Speak up!" Patchouli raised her voice, her shoulders shaking from holding the crossbow.
"Girl will die. She is cursed, now." Sergei gestured idly to Meiling, feeling ghostly fingers touching the back of his neck.
"Don't say too much, now, can't let her know I'm here..." Lady Midday admonished gently.
"We'll see about that," Patchouli said darkly, turning to the fairies, "Collect Meiling and take her to my study."
The fairies advanced in an anxious huddle towards the gate, bristling with weapons, their expressions fearful and angry as they stared at Sergei.
Sergei felt the air cool and the load lighten as the Lady lifted herself from his shoulders, nimbly leaping from his back towards the gate, her scythe trailing behind her.
She meant to kill Patchouli.
"Don't!" Sergei shouted.
A strong summer breeze passed over the fairies, the Lady's scythe swinging forward like a pick to split open Patchouli's skull-
The point of the scythe exploded in a blast of light that left Patchouli reflexively ducking in wide-eyed shock. The Lady screamed in pain and rage as she was repelled back.
"That's low." Patchouli whispered, levelling the crossbow again. That's when Sergei saw it - a librarian's iron key swaying on a cord around the witch's supporting wrist sleeve.
The spectre put one transparent hand to the end of the scythe, now shorn of its point.
"She broke my scythe! She ruined it! She ruined it!" Lady Midday's petulant screams were only for Sergei, his eyes shutting as he tried to hear Patchouli's next words.
"I'm fast running out of reasons not to kill you and whatever spirit haunts you. This is your last chance, leave now." Patchouli said icily, in the process of handing her crossbow to one of her helpers as she fished out a gold-handled looking glass.
Together, even with his ruined body and her blunted blade, he and the Lady could kill Meiling and the fairies, he knew it in his bones.
But the girl in the purple dress was an unknown quantity. She wouldn't let them escape, and he doubted they could extract the servant girl without a protracted battle.
The gate squealed open, the troop of fairies apprehensively hurrying to form a school circle around Meiling. He had to decide quickly.
"You know mister Barnes' temperament." The servant girl spoke up. Sergei's cold and thoughtful gaze met her silver eyes as she continued, unsteadily, "He's angry. He's not acting as he'd like to. He'd favour a peace that would allow him to prepare, he wouldn't have wanted to lash out like this. You've lost men today, but you've shed no blood, that's good, there's still a chance to not make this worse."
The servant girl said all this as the Lady snarled promises of bloody ruin on them to Sergei.
"Enough!" He shouted aloud, quelling the Lady and startling the servant girl.
He stared the maid down, contemplating reaching out and taking her hand. She had offered to come along in exchange for Meiling's life. Perhaps that offer still stood.
As he tried to bend his elbow, he saw one of the fairy maids - Megane, raven haired and bespectacled - rush in front of the servant girl as though to deny him, spreading her arms and curling her lip.
In spite of this pathetic display, he laughed.
He had liked the servant girl, and pitied her. The unique role she played in Barnes' schemes was a sad one, and he likened it to his own apparent destiny.
"You know this will end in bloodshed, and you, protagonist, will do much of it... as you have before." Sergei said softly as he backed. Slowly, gradually, he turned, his hands shakily finding his pockets before blood could run out his sleeve. He willed himself to walk, to breathe, trying to feel his deadened nerves as he stumbled off the road.
"She's burning up..." One of the fairies tending Meiling said.
"Get her inside." Patchouli commanded as she held the looking glass up and watched the flat-capped Russian, dreadful realisation settling in when she saw the noonwraith cloaking his shoulders.
Pestilence spirit. Slavic in origin. Had she not been wearing her array of charms...
She lingered on the sight before turning her looking glass towards Sakuya. She saw the orange patterns that surrounded her, invisible barriers that hemmed her in. The girl herself was dead on her feet, watching Sergei leave with a listless expression on her face.
"Sakuya, would you be so good as to collect Meiling's cap? She'd be upset if she lost it." Patchouli said tonelessly, watching the servant girl as the fairies bore Meiling's bloody and bruised body towards the mansion's doors.
She only turned to follow them when she saw Sakuya obediently stoop to pick up the green beret with its golden star badge.
"Is mistress Remilia home yet?" Sakuya asked as she fell in step.
"No, not yet. She's safe though. Making use of the escape routes you gave her." Patchouli said, trying to be reassuring.
"Good." Sakuya sighed, looking on at the fairy procession. Both of the girls noticed that a clump of fairies had gathered around Megane, who was trying to make herself small as they cooed and threw interested glances back at Sakuya.
"So tell me, why did you rush to Meiling's defence? That compulsion was not carefully woven; you risk your psyche defying it." Patchouli asked as the great doors of the mansion slammed shut behind them. They walked down the entrance hall, the broad red walls on either side decorated with suits of polished plate armour and dated portraits of men and women.
"I suppose... I suppose it's because no-one's ever stood up for me like that before. Not since..." Sakuya thought of mister Osbourne and her parents, her heart sinking lower.
"So it was a debt, you'd say?" Patchouli went on, a hand hurrying to her mouth as she started to cough hard.
"Perhaps? I don't know." Sakuya managed.
"Ahem. Maybe compassionate grounds allow you some room to manuever? 'I'm not obstructing Barnes, I'm saving someone', that sort of sentiment?" Patchouli asked.
Sakuya realised then that this wasn't idle chatter to the witch. She was trying to identify the mechanics of the hex. "You really needn't trouble yourself on my account-"
"Your account? It is absolutely necessary that I trouble myself, human," Patchouli turned to regard her, "Remilia may be fond of you, but as far as I can see, you're an unknown. Our little house is surrounded by men and spirits that will kill because this 'Barnes' anomaly wishes it done. I am the only one concerned with investigating this because no-one else can or will. What's worse, I have no idea what I can say to you, knowing that you could well be a spy. With that made clear, I'll settle for you telling me about the affliction on the gatekeeper. Her life could well hang in the balance."
Sakuya had felt a shadow over her heart as Patchouli demanded answers from her, feeling that dreadful paranoia cloud her mind, her fingers reflexively closing, starting when she felt the fabric between them. She looked down, the green cloth of Meiling's beret in her fists.
"Sergei, he is... very unwell, and he can transmit the fever in his head to those around him," Sakuya said haltingly, assuming Patchouli's huff to be one of impatience, "I have seen those affected suffer confusion, seizures, death. I have rarely been instructed to treat those he hurts, but the few times I have, it's been water. Cold water, to lower their temperature."
"That isn't Sergei's doing, but thank you, most helpful," Patchouli made a mental note before she continued her walk after the fairies, "I notice you're still upright from that retelling, Sakuya. Have you ever been invited to comment on Sergei, Barnes or any of his pets?"
"Yes, I have." Sakuya grudgingly admitted as she hurried to follow.
"Who asked you?" Patchouli asked as they made their way through door after door.
"A police inspector." Sakuya said.
"Were you able to complete the interview?" Patchouli asked.
"No, we were interrupted." Sakuya's voice was awkward.
"By whom?" Patchouli asked.
The hard pause left Patchouli throwing one of her hands into the air, irritated. "Nevermind. Would you have given the inspector the information needed, had you not been interrupted?"
"I- I don't believe so." Sakuya said uncertainly as they entered Voile. To either side, books lined the shelves on every wall, with tall and daunting bookcases flanking the aisle they hurried down.
"Were you and yours holding anyone at the time?" Patchouli asked.
"I don't- no." Sakuya didn't bother to finish her denial of the fact, seeing Meiling at the epicenter of the magic library, lying on the table. Her flesh was red, the fairies around her clearly panicked and looking for guidance.
Patchouli decided then that she wasn't comfortable in relying solely on her knowledge of western magic.
"It appears time is not on our side. All of you, wait outside, do not enter until I say so!" Patchouli shouted. The fairies hurriedly obeyed as Patchouli strode to the table.
"What shall I do?" Sakuya called out.
"Wait outside! I will have more questions to put to you!" Patchouli shouted back. Sakuya moved quickly to obey, holding the door open for the last of her workers before she swung the great door closed.
Patchouli's palms slapped against the edge of the table, taking in breath after breath as she looked up at the windows, dismissively flicking her fingers.
The curtains hissed shut at her command, the privacy wards inscribed onto the pillars humming to life. Satisfied that no-one would see, she assessed the damage done to the Chinese girl.
Meiling had regained consciousness, but her eyes didn't see Patchouli. Her skin had hardened from a heat that burned from within whilst her blue eyes fought to stay open.
Jellyfish Princess. The witch thought about the name Flan had coined for her technique as she called upon the life-giving element. There was already a little water to be found in the air within Voile - if the air was too dry it would leave the books brittle - and so her magic worked on that first, coaxing it to gather into cohesive drops in front of her. She transported more water from the surroundings of the mansion, enjoying the sight of the bulbuous balloons of water pushing, pressing, slipping together until a vast bubble of magically imbued water before she began to lower it towards Meiling's twitching form.
"M-mistress?" Meiling whispered, her eyelids fluttering.
"It's Patchouli." Patchouli corrected, recalling the elements necessary for the next technique as she held the blob's descent.
"You hurt?" Meiling asked. Patchouli allowed a smile to surface.
"Thanks to you, I am unscathed. Miss Flandre is safe too, and Remi is clear of danger. Now-"
"Sakuya?" Meiling managed.
Patchouli paused for a moment before nodding, "She is fine, holding your hat for safekeeping. Now, don't speak. You need to rest."
The answer was all Meiling needed to let her head thud on the desk, her face contorting as a spasm arched her back.
She couldn't wait much longer.
Patchouli lowered the blanket of water over her. She heard the hiss of heat meeting water, the sickening, supernatural fever quenched against the cool, rolling comforter that encased Meiling.
She was stable now, but there would be no improvement without her next trick.
Photosynthesis. It was a boring name taken from the science of this world, but it was descriptive. She raised her hand into the air, calling upon the two elements Sun and Wood, upon the radiance and flourish of both.
No curtain had been drawn, no opening had been made in the roof of Voile and yet a sliver of light opened up in the air above them both, showering them both in a warm, glareless glow.
Once she was satisfied that the process had begun, she started to unburden her pockets of the wards, charms and amulets that she'd thrust into them before charging out the front door. They clattered on the side table, glinting in the gentle sunlight.
A vial of holy water here, a rabbit's foot there, a silver crucifix blessed by a priest, a wolf's tooth necklace blessed by a pagan goddess, a bronze bangle inscribed with arcane runes long forgotten...
With a flick of her wrist, she swung the iron key on its loop into her hand, still feeling the warmth it had absorbed from the noonwraith's attack.
She hadn't even intended it as a ward. Patchouli stilled the rising cough in her system as she let the key dangle, and focused on her patient. She watched and waited, periodically resting the back of her hand on Meiling's forehead.
For three hours, there was little improvement.
With magic, it took preperation, experimentation and persistence, and the outcome was often instant and played to expectations.
Patchouli had stepped in before to help her fellow residents with their wounds and had learned quickly enough that medicine and treatment required a recovery period of uncertain length. It didn't matter that she knew this, it was disheartening all the same to a girl who was used to instant results.
A creak announced a door opening. Patchouli raised her chin, a scowl on her face as she prepared to lambast an intruding fairy.
It wasn't a fairy. It was Koakuma in her black vest and skirt, a handful of books held up against her white blouse and a fretful look on her face.
Beside her was Remilia Scarlet, her ruined dress spattered in bright, vibrant dyes. She was holding Meiling's beret in her pale hands.
"Is she going to be alright?" Koakuma asked, her brow plainly knitted.
"It's Meiling. Of course she will be." Patchouli sighed, beckoning Koakuma to surrender the books she'd borrowed from the library.
Remilia forced a smile. "Such luxurious spa treatment too," She gestured to Meiling, coccooned in the rolling water and the gentle ray of sunshine, "Wouldn't catch me dead submitting to this."
Patchouli gave her a tired smile. "No, I don't suppose we would."
As Koakuma dumped the books on the desk and hurried to attend Meiling, Remilia approached Patchouli, offering the beret. "Sakuya and I will be going to mister Osbourne's place of business. See if I can convince him to take up the burden of teaching me."
Patchouli nodded in understanding. "I've questions to put to the maid."
"She mentioned that. By all means, do so, but let it wait until nightfall. I'd rather see mister Osbourne whilst the sun is still up." Remilia said evenly.
Patchouli waved to the doors. Remilia took the cue, walking with her as Patchouli left Meiling's dragon-star cap on a side table. "I'm pleased to hear you're not giving up." Patchouli noted.
"Ehhh," Remilia sounded, "I'm only persisting because it's necessary. Hell hath no fury like an angry Patchy."
Patchouli chuckled at that, earning an elbow from Remilia as they reached the doors.
"Have you had any trouble with Flan?" Remilia asked.
"No, she's been quiet. Which could be a problem.
With your blessing, I was thinking I should perhaps let her see Meiling." Patchouli said after a moment's hesitance.
Remilia looked at her, appalled. "You said she'd be alright-"
"And Meiling will be alright! You misunderstand," Patchouli soothed, her hands up in surrender, "I just feel it may be best for Flan, to help her focus, say."
"That'll only distress her, won't it? Seeing her like this?" Remilia asked.
"That-" Patchouli raised a finger to object, before holding it to her mouth, herself unsure. She and Meiling were recent additions to the household, and her understanding of Remilia and Flandre's relationship was limited.
She knew Flan liked Meiling, however.
"I feel... it's necessary for her to realise that we're in a rather serious situation." Patchouli spoke slowly, thinking carefully about how to word this.
Why? Why must we disturb her?" Remilia shook her head. She had Osbourne to handle, and now apparently she was at war with London. She couldn't risk another incident, not again.
"Because this disturbance may help channel her. She is very, very angry, and it might be good for her to point that energy in a directio-"
"In a direction that isn't ours, is what you're saying? We can use her?" Remilia cut in, stopping in her tracks to round on her.
"Whatever you think I'm thinking, don't," Patchouli warned as she met Remilia's gaze, her expression dour, "I'm your ally in this. If Flan sinks, you sink, I sink. I do not intend to use her as a weapon, nor you as my shield. We're together in this, and I'm not leaving without all of you."
Remilia held her breath as she stared at Patchouli's hurt expression, biting down on the temptation to have that fight again.
"You never took the pledge." Remilia said archly.
"Oh, for-" Patchouli threw up her hands and shouted, "I'll take it now, if you don't trust me as such!"
Remilia couldn't tell if Patchouli was being whimsical or earnest in her suggestion to give her oath.
"That won't be necessary." Remilia mumbled.
"Alright." Patchouli said, quietening down.
"I trust you," Remilia said, suspecting it wouldn't be enough, "So show Flandre what our enemies have done to the gatekeeper.
Like you said, maybe she'll realise this is serious."
Patchouli nodded, clearly troubled as Remilia turned to complete her walk.
"You do trust me, right?" Patchouli asked in a tender tone that earnt a backwards glance from Remilia.
"There's no-one I trust more." Remilia stated firmly.
Patchouli tried to supress her embarrassed, awkward smile as she watched the vampire leave Voile.
"Koakuma." She prompted.
"It's actually an invented language, miss Patchouli!" Koakuma shouted from the center of the library, "A hybrid, Sanskrit dressed as Arabic! This so-called djinn is based in Hinduism!"
Patchouli swung around, a flourishing hand summoning the foreign books to her. They floated free of the desk and rushed over to her, splaying open to divulge their contents.
"Whilst you were out, I studied Sakuya's hair - magical residue. I have a sample, and thanks to you we have its language, the rules it plays by.
Let's learn these rules, so we know which ones to break."
The dusklight clung to the slate rooftops of Whitechapel like a hand clinging to a ledge.
Mister Osbourne did not feel the slender touch of the sun's rays as he trundled down the steps of St. Mary's Church. He just felt tired. He made his way beneath the stone arch that led into the poorer districts.
"I thought I'd recognised you."
The dream-like voice floated over his shoulder, encouraging him to turn and regard her.
"By God," His face creased with a relieved smile, "It's you, girl!"
Sakuya nodded easily. "It is," She said warmly, "I thought it prudent to check up on you."
Jared Osbourne forced a chuckle. "Thought I'd passed away from a, ah, spat, did you? Come on, let's swing by Miss Baker's, treat ourselves to her mince pies."
Sakuya's smile shifted. "That won't be necessary, I've already paid her a visit," She'd raise the pies she was holding aloft in a neat stack before indicating he follow with a turn of her head, "Let's find a place to sit?"
Mister Osbourne made a disagreeable noise, but he was all smiles quickly enough; it had been a long time since she'd made time for him. "You realise I hate her pies?" He pointed out.
"You still visit her to flirt through clever innuendo." Sakuya remarked smoothly.
Mister Osbourne grumbled something about the impropriety of her observation before he gave pause, realising they were between houses, far removed from the main road. "This isn't the way back."
Sakuya's soft smile disappeared as she found a low wall to rest the pies on, clasping her hands as she faced him, as though to plead a case.
"Miss Scarlet wants to speak to you. Just speak with you, for a moment." Sakuya repeated for emphasis as Mister Osbourne reflexively reached inside his coat for something.
"You lured me here at her behest?" He asked, stricken.
"I will protect you if she touches you. Please hear her." Sakuya promised, her eyes pleading. For a moment, Sakuya thought he would refuse.
But his shoulders sagged, his hand ushering her to lead the way through the houses until they reached Whitechapel Road. The street was quiet, shadowy and devoid of life, the stripped and barren stalls evidence of the weekly market that had been and gone.
Amongst the pillars of wood and awnings of cloth was Remilia, clad in the puffy-sleeved doublet and hose of a Renaissance child, darkly coloured to contrast with her pastel-blue hair.
Her red eyes caught sight of Mister Osbourne and she offered him a brave smile.
"I was wrong to lash out. I see that now." She said quietly.
Mister Osbourne had always looked down at her, though there was no haughty impatience in his gaunt features this time. His eyes lingered on the dark spear tips of her folded wings that stuck out over her shoulders.
"I realise it's difficult for you to help me - to see eye-to-eye with me - when I do not attempt to trust you." She raised her hand. "Everything I have told you so far is true, but there's more, always more."
She put herself on tiptoes, her fingers reaching high for the light.
She bit down as steam rose off of her fingers, sinking back onto her heels as she cried out in pain. Mister Osbourne recoiled, glancing Sakuya's way for some answer. Remilia hugged her burning hand to her stomach.
"What are you, to be able to do that?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"It was not my choice to be cursed," Remilia hissed, her hands, "I am... vampire, and so too is my sister. I slew the perpetrator who wore the badge of Dracula, the striped shield, star and moon. I survived his reign by avoiding his attentions, and I ran out of reasons to stay when his son lost his mind to the curse.
Please, don't go."
Mister Osbourne hesitated in his turn. "Why should I remain? You are a creature of the night." He said quietly.
"I was made this way! I didn't choose-"
"You are an enemy of mankind, by admission." Mister Osbourne continued, always watching her for sudden moves.
"That's not fair! It's not!" Remilia shouted back, her eyes welling up.
"You've killed humans before, haven't you?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"Only when they had designs on my sister and myself. I'll admit," Remilia snarled, "I've killed turks and wallachians, vampires and humans, but only when they turned their blades on me!"
"You've killed humans to feed off of?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"I've not yet been forced to kill an innocent human to feed." Remilia said slowly.
"Carefully put." Mister Osbourne managed.
"I had a great teacher." Remilia risked a smile.
Sakuya watched as her foster father fired question after question at her mistress to be, finding her admiration wax as Remilia spoke honestly, exuding a fool's sincerity when she ran out of charm.
But it hadn't seemed to be enough to convince mister Osbourne.
"Pies are cold," He muttered to Sakuya as he picked up his own, chancing a whispered, "If you need help from her, you know where to find me."
At that, he began to walk away.
"I'm not some malevolent invader, mister Osbourne! I just want to protect my own! Please help me do that, and I'll leave!" Remilia shouted after him in tearful desperation.
He turned back, coming close so he would not have to shout. His voice was a whisper, as though afraid he might be overheard or judged.
"Noblesse oblige." He said softly.
Remilia blinked. "Noblesse oblige?" She made a conscious effort to stop her bottom lip from trembling.
He nodded gently. "Noblesse oblige. 'Nobility obliges'. French."
Remilia looked on, her attentive eyes clearly signalling him to go on.
"I was trying to teach you the spirit of the phrase this morning," He rubbed his eye with his off-hand, "but it seems you've a parcel of the quality in you already."
"Try some more?" Remilia asked earnestly, earning a heartfelt chuckle from Sakuya.
"You have a responsibility that ought to be observed, one that is in measure to your authority. You have an obligation to those beneath you to be better to them."
"Tell me why. Why must I do this?" Remilia asked.
"A good question... Dracula, if he hadn't massacred his own people, turned you and your sister and shown himself to be a monster, would you have kept your distance?" Mister Osbourne asked.
"No, I suppose I wouldn't." Remilia murmured, the use of her past throwing her off.
"What of Mihnea? If he'd acted rightly?"
"I would have tried to help." Remilia ventured.
"Exactly. You, the subordinate, would have been happier, and they themselves would be cherished by all. Is that not a good enough reason to be helpful, generous and strong for those under your command? If you - the noble matriarch of the household - cannot control yourself, what chance will your knights stand? Your servants, those who tend your land? Your peers, your subordinates in society? What example can they follow?" Osbourne said at length.
"A code of conduct? Do all humans follow it?" Remilia asked.
Mister Osbourne smiled sadly. "No, but they ought to. It'll do you good to follow it yourself, that clear?" He barked, injecting some of his old fervour into his voice.
Remilia nodded eagerly, her red eyes uncertainly looking to Sakuya for some hint. The maid gave her an encouraging smile and a nod. "Does this... mean you may teach me after all?" Remilia asked, her gaze returning to the old man.
Mister Osbourne managed a breathless chuckle. "I suppose it does, doesn't it?" He'd say, his off-hand going into his pocket, retrieving another of his handcarved wooden buttons, offering it.
Remilia went forward, letting the human place the button into her palm. "For what it's worth," Mister Osbourne added, "I'm sorry for caning you. Bad habit I picked up in the army."
"Thank you." She whispered.
"Don't thank me yet, we need to reschedule." Mister Osbourne grumbled, though Remilia swore she could see a little smile tugging at his mouth.
Remilia turned to give Sakuya a look of triumph, her own smile fading when she saw the maid's listless, troubled stare.
"Mister Osbourne," She said awkwardly, "Did you used to own a silver pocketwatch?"
"A peculiar question. I did; why?
Don't tell me she's lost it." He growled, a silver eyebrow lifted as he regarded the maid who stared at the shadows.
The last of the light had finally crept behind the houses, leaving Remilia and Sakuya to walk home in darkness.
"What a team we make, hmm? With my vision and your local knowledge, we'll be home soon enough." Remilia said easily.
"Were you truly serious?" Sakuya asked.
"In regards to...?" Remilia asked.
Sakuya swallowed. She felt her anxiety crowd her as the compulsion tried to choke her.
"About making me your servant..." Sakuya said, feeling the sting even as she contemplated it. It was a selfish hope, made all the more selfish by the dark deeds she'd been made to perform. She hated herself for asking, for wishing for salvation from whatever fate had in store.
"Yeah. You're wasted here, I'm sure of it.
Now, tomorrow, we're going shopping! It's high time you delivered on finding me a dress. After which...
I'll teach you to fly. Yes, that could be fun." Remilia murmured half to herself.
"You're too kind." Sakuya said quietly.
Remilia smiled in the dark, recalling Patchy's words not to dig too deep.
Oh, Patchy!
"That reminds me, we have to get home fast and see if Patchy can conjure up a rainstorm.
There's a werewolf I wanna mess with."
Patchouli and Koakuma met them directly in the meeting hall. The latter held a kettle and a pair of teacups in jittering fingers.
"Welcome, mistress, human." Patchouli said, oddly pleasant.
"Patchy! I've a reque-" Remilia paused as Patchouli stepped forward to regard Sakuya, a hand daintily taking one of the cups Koakuma had.
"You were good enough to make me tea, human. Would you have some of mine?" Patchouli asked as Koakuma awkwardly filled one of the teacups with a brothy liquid the colour of spinach.
Sakuya swore it was glowing faintly. She looked to Remilia mutely for some signal.
"Patchy-" Remilia started.
"Please, I implore you." Patchouli interrupted with an off-putting smile, having never implored in her life.
Sakuya took the teacup, looking to Remilia, who in turn regarded Patchouli with a suspecting scowl.
"I hope you enjoy the tea, miss Sakuya!" Koakuma piped up, her meek and earnest act much more convincing - and more importantly, dragged the spotlight away from her socially awkward superior.
Sakuya drank. It didn't taste bad. She was halfway done when she noticed Patchouli was watching her eagerly.
"Miss Patchouli, I forgot, did I dust the east wing this morning or did you move my shift to this eve?" Koakuma declared.
"What are you making my servant drink?" Remilia asked finally, wearying of Patchouli's games and Koakuma's attempts at damage control.
"I'm returning the favour, Remi.
One good turn deserves another." Patchouli said in a sinister tone as Koakuma set the kettle down on the floor and advanced.
"What-" Sakuya managed, the teacup falling from her hand. She tried to apologise, tried to lift her chin, but instead the carpet rushed up to meet her.
Koakuma hurried to catch her.
"Take her to Voile. I would not be surprised if the Djinn's been alerted that she's been sedated." Patchouli instructed.
"What are you doing with her?" Remilia snapped, "She's-"
Patchouli raised a finger as Koakuma hoisted Sakuya up and fluttered down the hall. "If you trust me, do so now."
The witch did not wait for Remilia's response as her boots left the floor, taking flight towards the sanctuary of Voile.
Author's note: Merry Christmas, everyone. I was hoping to get past Day 4 and post this in time for Christmas, but I guess I can't have everything. I hope I haven't left too many typos/redundant bits in.
I hope the next year is kinder to all of you.