It was Ruxandra.
Sakuya saw the vanquished hope in Remilia's eyes. The maid turned to look, her arms full with her friend, her mouth opening to say she didn't know what-
The blade slid through Sakuya before punching into Remilia's chest.
Ruxandra watched as Bloodthirster did its gruesome work, savouring the forlorn look in Remilia's eyes as Sakuya died in front of her.
The heiress of Dracula began to laugh. With a jolt of her blade, she sent the pretender's body over the edge, down onto the plaza where her men waited, letting the maid's corpse slump against the railing as she extracted her sword.
"Behold, the fate of traitors!" She shrieked, raising the hungry sword high as her soldiers followed suit, screeching along with her as all of London shrank back in fear.
Ruxandra shuddered as euphoria seeped in. Remilia - the killer of her brother - was gone now. The traitor's family were close by, their extermination at hand. Once they were dealt with, she could go back home with the scarlet bitch's head to shut down her detractors. Then they would move on to the Ottomans and their other neighbours. Then the thrice-damned papacy. Then…
No. No, something was off. Lacking, even.
Ruxandra's red eyes chased up the blade she held high, seeing how blood ribboned from the two dead girls to her sword tip. The flavour was there, but the intoxicating nourishment of their blood was absent.
They could not be so thin-blooded, surely? These reprobates that had escaped justice for so long?
"What is this?! Check the body!" Her voice climbed from a whisper to shouted words.
The dark specks surrounding the unmoving Remilia obediently drew their blades and set to hacking her to pieces until the spell broke.
Remilia's pale skin and pastel pink dress whitened before cracks emerged across her body. In a fluttering wave, the manikins took flight, both the head and the body of the young countess dissolving and joining the gathering storm of paper.
Ruxandra turned on the maid's body, snarling as she stamped down on it with a boot. The paper shell crumpled beneath her armoured heel, the cut-outs blowing out in every direction. She stabbed one of the paper silhouettes, bringing the spitted creature up to her visor. It looked strange to her - almost like a paper angel, as perceived by her Christian prey. It wriggled on the sword tip, crinkling as the wind tried to tear it from its impalement.
"Mount up!" She bellowed, lifting an armoured leg to step onto the railing, preparing to jump down to rejoin her troop. They would make up the time they lost in discovering this ruse. They would rejoin Petru's squad and slay Remilia's family in their lair.
Ruxandra paused when she caught a glimpse of white that stood apart from the ruddy red shadows that the storm had cast across the city. A strange woman in stranger clothes stood on the road that would lead to the Scarlet Mansion, her folded arms hidden in ruffle-trimmed sleeves. Her back was guarded closely by an array of bushy tails, her animal-yellow eyes staring back up at the vampire without fear, instead with an obvious, easy satisfaction, as though there was no place she'd rather be.
Ruxandra considered sparing the kitsune. Unlike Barnes' fodder, she held herself with confidence, and perhaps rightly so; she had cast a mirage that had briefly fooled herself and her malefic kin. There was no knowing what kind of power she wielded, or for whom.
"You think this promise of such a cheap victory," Ruxandra's voice carried across the plaza, "Would be enough to satisfy? To turn us around?"
Ran Yakumo lowered her chin. "My sincerest apologies," She said airily as the paper shikigamis swarmed to dance and sway behind her, "that was initially my intention. But my orders were changed, a momentary delay becoming preferable to some long con. So I devised this moment to keep you here and chase your tails. Miss Remilia is beyond your reach now."
Ruxandra's eyes narrowed, her mouth opening to reveal a smile fenced with daggers. "You will take me to her."
Ran Yakumo smiled apologetically, but the insincerity filtered through her voice. "I am neither inclined, nor have I been permitted to do that. I can only allow you to leave, or grant you relief from this forsaken existence."
Ruxandra shook her head, scraping the tip of Bloodthirster into the stone, the impaled paper angel splitting open as it was ground into the floor. "Ensure there is enough left of her to speak," She shouted down to her men, "We shall need her tongue to tell us where Remilia has fled to."
Ran's shoulders rose and fell. "Then it is your funeral," She sighed, her smile serene. The Wallachian heavy cavalry - an infernal wall of plated, armoured death - began its advance, the walk lifting into a trot, breaking into a canter, until they were at an earth shaking gallop.
Ran's ears perked up as she received a warning, sucking in a breath as she planted her feet. The vampires gave an inhuman, rasping roar as they lifted their swords and lowered their lances.
A barded horse and the armoured vampire atop it together weighed upwards of a hundred pounds. A sword swung or a lance coached with that much weight and that much speed behind it could easily kill an armoured man, let alone a robed illusionist.
But that amount and direction of energy made it difficult for them to stop, to swerve, to get out of the way.
A ribboned portal emerged in front of them. It widened into a tunnel, obscuring their target and allowing hundreds of tons of steam-powered steel, wood and iron to come careening the other way.
Ruxandra's jaw dropped as she watched the train collide with her knights. She saw Sir Andrei take the train's plough head on, both man and mount splitting apart in uneven, ragged halves. She saw Baroness Musetai wrench on her reins as the train skipped a cobble and slammed sideways into her, crushing the left side of her horse and unseating her. As the train ran on, the carriages swayed like a snake's body, cutting off Lord Tihomir's war-cry as he was pitched over his horse's obliterated skull and sent crashing beneath the wheels.
Ruxandra had seen enough.
As the train landed on its side and ploughed across the concourse, she leapt from the railing, landing hard on the steps of the cathedral, rushing across the plaza. Ran watched her approach, a blizzard of shikigami billowing about her.
"Ciubar! Take Iacob!" Ruxandra called out, refining the order with a thought-sent command. She sensed rather than saw the nod of her two knights as they turned their steeds, seemingly to ride Ran down.
Only to ride past her.
"Chen," Ran shouted, knowing their game, "Stop them!"
As the two vampire knights rode on towards the Scarlet Devil Mansion, the street seemed to shimmer, to shift, to roll towards them-
A knobbed club the size of a tree slipped the veil of reality and took Iacob's horse out from under him.
"Iacob!" Ciubar snarled out, slicing out for his comrade's attacker. His blade parted midnight-blue skin and sliced at thick muscle, his undead eyes widening as he took in the sheer physicality of the oni.
How had such a vast creature emerged from nowhere?
He heard a demented cackle on his right, turning in time to see the red oni's fist cannon into his horse's chest, crumpling both barding and breastbone as though they were nothing. Ciubar expertly slipped the saddle, his unfolding wings taking him clear of the horse, his mouth opening when Zenki's backswing followed him and pounded him into the bricks.
"Nice try!" Zenki chortled as he crushed Ciubar's spine. He recalled their masters saying that vampires took a lot of physical trauma to put down. Thankfully, he and Goki had plenty to dish out.
Ruxandra cursed over and over as she rallied the survivors and led them in a ragged charge. Ran watched them come, standing in the storm of shikigami, her tails waving with bewitching enthusiasm.
Meiling chewed her lip as she stood in the harrowed entrance hall of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, the main thoroughfare now bracketed by barricades that bristled with captured firearms and medieval weaponry.
Edwin's men had left the board. What concerned Meiling now were the rapidly moving auras that closed towards them. They were like Remilia's, but lacking in the nervousness and impurity of purpose that made hers, well, hers.
They were coming to kill them, and they were single-minded about it.
"Are we going to be okay?" One fairy with a rifle squeaked.
"Are they?" Flandre asked, her question startling Meiling. The little sister had been so quiet.
Meiling stared out into the city and the scarlet fog that enveloped it. They had performed well against the humans, but vampires? Even with the good silver, only Flandre and herself could fight them, and with the young mistress' inexperience… It would be bloody.
"They'll be okay, so long as they make it okay," Meiling told Flandre.
She felt a flicker of doubt from Flandre and a pulse of unease behind her as the fairies struggled with the sentiment.
"Look," Meiling laughed as she sought to reassure her audience, "You've got-"
She paused.
"We've got…?" The fairy asked gently.
Meiling let her long crescent blade fall to the carpet as she suddenly ran out of the hall, out into the courtyard, out into the fog.
"Meiling?" Flandre shouted.
"Wait, where're you going?!" The fairy cried out, hearing the receding plish-plash of plimsolls rushing across water.
The moment stretched. The only thing breaking the silence now was the hammering of maids boarding up the walls and reinforcing the barricades.
Then they began to hear the hoof beats. Of horseshoes clattering on cobbles. The tension became palpable. Then, a call from above.
"It's Meiling, she's- She's got the princess!" A lookout screamed.
There was a lurch, every fairy wide-eyed. They heard arquebuses and rifles cough as the fairies in the clock tower shot at targets invisible to the mist-shrouded entrance hall.
Meiling jogged back through the scarlet fog with Remilia in her arms, with Sakuya running alongside her. The vampire and the maid looked like they had been in the wars, the latter nearly falling over as they arrived.
"Sakuya, tell Patchy we're back," Remilia murmured as Meiling carried her into the hall. As Sakuya disappeared, she took in a breath, "Put me down, Meiling."
She was carefully set down. Remilia almost collapsed, gratefully taking Flandre's offered hand.
"Did I help? Did Lavawand help?" Flandre asked, raising the crooked wand in her other hand.
Remilia laughed breathlessly. "Oh, yeah. Its trickery was decisive. I'll tell you when we're away." She promised, regarding the single bloodshot eye of Lævateinn with newfound appreciation as she felt Sakuya's presence return.
"Patchouli is preparing the mansion for launch, milady." Sakuya told her.
The hoofbeats were closer now, along with the hoarse shouts of parched throats.
"Take heart, Scarlet Maid Brigade! You have our august company and my Knight of Knights with you," Remilia's tired eyes glanced at Sakuya's nonplussed expression, "Fighting by your side! There's not one foe on this side of Creation we can't repel!"
The sights of Patchouli's magic rising in great columns of lavender light around the mutilated grounds was of tremendous reassurance to Remilia. Now, she thought to herself, if she could just get us underway before those knights outside cross the water…
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Ruxandra grimaced as her blade clove through a ghost, the creature dissipating as two more youkai assailed her. What had begun as the casual dispatchment of a single opponent had become an assault from all sides. Her bodyguards fought all around her, doing all they could to cut her a path to the kitsune. Some of her kindred were unlucky enough to be cut off from her retinue by the tide of eastern demons, given no choice but to sell their lives - such as they were - at a heavy price.
She could regroup, she knew. Round up her men and fight clear, go south and reach the Thames. They could try again. They should try again. Mihnea would have.
Mihnea wouldn't have failed in the first place, if he were alive.
She gritted her teeth, her rage putting her sword through the throat of a long-necked youkai before she split the skull of a beak-faced kappa.
"Fight me yourself, fox-tails!" Ruxandra bawled, stepping over corpses that blew upwards into plumes of paper manikins, paying no heed to how they obscured the oncoming daggers.
Half a dozen kunai clattered off of her armour, one knife point finding her neck join as she deflected more incoming with her sword arm, blocking her own vision-
She saw the brightening light up ahead, stepping to one side in time to narrowly miss the laser that flashed past her, the bar of light suddenly branching into a tree that skewered her men behind her.
Before she could call out orders, Ran was on her, claws whistling through the air. The roll of Ruxandra's head allowed her to keep it, Ran's claws ripping her helmet clear and sending it crashing across the plaza. The kitsune-turned-shikigami harassed the Wallachian noble from all directions and from all ranges, with kunai, claw and laser, her illusions and her lesser shikigami concealing Ran's every attack vector and sheltering her every retreat. Ruxandra tried and failed to catch the fox-tailed demon, again and again.
By chance, Ruxandra's reckless swings cut through a curtain of illusions and came face to face with a cat-eared girl, wide-eyed with shock. Ruxandra's long ears perked up as she heard the kitsune take in a breath. This one wasn't just a servant, she was valued.
She was leverage.
"CHEN!" Ran screamed.
With all the speed bestowed upon her damned kind, Ruxandra swept in on the changed cat, bringing Bloodthirster sweeping round.
Her sword broke through the barrier and bit into Ran's side as the kitsune tackled Chen, taking the girl by the collar as they both landed hard. For a moment, Ruxandra's vision whited out as the shikigami blew between them like a blizzard.
"Mistress Ran! I'm sorry, I-I didn't think she'd move so close- you're bleeding!" Chen bleated.
"I s-stipulated that you were to support me from a distance. Nothing more," Ran admonished gently, her hand pressed to the wound, her yellowed eyes widening as the blood threaded around her fingers, rushing out through the wall of shikigami, staining them before they were lazily cut through by the black knight and her blood-drinking sword.
Chen's tails bristled as she stood up, her tiny fangs bared as Zenki and Goki - their two oni familiars - lumbered close to guard their flanks
"Chen, don't…" Ran managed, her head spinning as she cast a barrier to seal her wound. Already her blood pooled on the mauve wall of light that protected her gashed open hip, as if it strained to escape her body and desert her.
Ruxandra raised her sword, smiling across the steel at Chen's snarling visage. The vampire stamped forward, breaking into a run-
Ruxandra frowned in consternation as she dropped through a yawning gap in the cobbles. Without fanfare, it snapped shut after her.
Ran shuddered as she allowed herself to falter. She glanced down at her rent-open side, watching as the ribbon of blood - severed from the drinker and its magic - came apart, splattering across the floor. Only then did her bandaging barrier retain her fluids.
"Chen, I did say to stay on the periphery of the fighting, regardless of anything…" Ran admonished, retaining her glower even through Chen's hurt expression.
"Sorry…"
Ran shook her head, taking in the battlefield, their contingent of servants still in fierce battle with the remaining vampire knights.
"Let's clean this up," She murmured, hoping her mistress knew what she was doing.
The red gloom over London was replaced with arched cabin roofs, the solid stone underfoot exchanged for a carpet that floated and intermittently rattled as the wheels beneath the carriage ran the rails. The city's ramshackle buildings had been traded away for wooden panels that boxed her in; her and her new opponent.
"You must be the master," Ruxandra simpered as she righted herself, seeing an umbrella swing down on her. With a frown of amusement, she almost let it through.
Then she saw the cold disregard in those golden eyes.
Bloodthirster flicked up in a last minute block.
The whole blade crashed back down against Ruxandra's gorget, her sparkling eyes wide as her stolen blood coursed to her muscles to try to contest with the pressure from above.
"And you must be the last of your kind," Yukari said airily, as though she was at rest.
Ruxandra forced out a snort, heaving the blade away from her neck before flicking a strike for Yukari's shoulder. Yukari redressed but too slowly, a red smile opening on the back of her hand. Yukari retreated and the vampire pursued her until rows of road signs stabbed up at her like stakes. Seeing there was no clear way through the sea of signage, Ruxandra smartly stepped back and saluted Yukari with her sword.
"Well met!" Ruxandra laughed.
Yukari didn't laugh. Instead, she raised the back of her hand, observing how her blood seemed to flow across the air to Ruxandra's blade. "A curious weapon, well suited to your kind," She said finally.
Ruxandra sighed, exultant. "Indeed. Your chances of victory thin along with your blood, Yukari Yakumo - and my knowledge of you grows, besides!"
Yukari arched a brow at her. "Oh? So you've beaten me? Bravo. I'm assuming you're still talking because you want me to make an offer?"
Ruxandra giggled, "Well, let's see, this… Gensokyo, that's how you say it? You think to give a parcel of land to Remilia, am I understanding that correctly?"
Yukari's nose wrinkled as though annoyed, as though her life force wasn't being sapped from her with every passing second. "So you are."
Ruxandra's eyebrows bounced. "Give me the rights. Give me her head, and you'll have an ally in two worlds."
Yukari lazily blinked. "You know my name from the blood you drank from me, yes?"
Ruxandra laughed. "Exactly right! As I consume your essence, I absorb the knowledge you possess along with it. So, what do you say to my offer? Speak quickly, lest I drink you dry," She remarked.
Yukari gave her a wintry smile. "Not on this side of hell."
Ruxandra's smile grew fierce for a moment as she bit down on her retort. "You can have me as a friend or as an overlord. I care not which," The vampire persisted.
Yukari's cool mask did not change.
"Gensokyo is beyond your reach, corpseling," Yukari said evenly, "So too is a welcomed return to Wallachia. This is the end of the line."
Ruxandra's question was on her face when her nose detected the scent of her long-dead mother's perfume.
"What-" She said before her stomach seized.
"How do I know you so intimately? I am centuries older than you and thorough in my methods of investigation," Yukari explained casually as her opponent retched, "You think I'd put myself in a position to lose, to you?"
The blood of her opponents would yield her their knowledge. That was how it was with both humans and supernaturals. But in all past cases, the vitae of her opponents and victims had been easy to digest, broad but shallow, holding few secrets Ruxandra did not know.
Her ignorance was stripped bare before the richness of Yukari's blood. She saw the gods and their shaping of the world. She saw life emerge from the seas, witnessed how it pulled itself apart, with claws and teeth and hunger and hate, again and again and again.
"You wish to know what I know? Then drink deeply, until you are sick with it." She heard her opponent's voice reverberate across the ages.
She saw more things more quickly now. More light and darkness, life and death. She heard her father's laughter. She was a human again, hearing his maniacal laughter, shielding her eyes the sights of men, women and children being raised on spears-
The blood of Yukari scorched her throat on the way up, her entire body shaking as her dead veins pumped the stuff of everything through her body, her mouth opening wide in its need to disgorge this bone-deep, soul-deep discomfort, threatening to dislocate, such was her desperation. She heard her fellow princesses screaming for mercy before she did what was necessary to secure her position all those years ago. She collapsed to all fours and her body closed up, crunching into grave soil instead of carpet. She felt the heat of the fire that consumed the Wallachian strongholds. Even as she thought of the steward, her brother Milos, she saw his severed head held aloft by the faith-maddened soldiers of Christ. She saw Wallachia disappear. She saw their lineage fail, their kith and kin scattered before humanity's progress. She saw the-the thing that lurked within the gap-
It saw her.
Even as she vomited, she screamed, her fingers gouging the carpet and the wood beneath it.
Yukari quietly observed how her warping of Ruxandra's innate thirst reduced her, lofting a brow as the Wallachian pushed herself off of the floor. Even as the stuff of knowledge drooled from her lips, Ruxandra brought herself up to a knee, her eyes burning with a need to carry on the fight, to struggle through the madness that was in her system.
She was every bit her father's daughter.
Yukari stared at the teary eyed vampire knight, feeling… something she didn't care to identify, not yet.
"You would stand before me after I passed your boundaries and revealed the futility of it all," Yukari conceded, her bleeding hand slitting a window in space with a finger as the other rested her umbrella on her shoulder. "I commend your persistence, Ruxandra Tepes."
"Come out from behind this barrier, you bitch! I will drag your headless body to Wallachia myself," Ruxandra spat, glaring at Yukari as the youkai placed her bleeding hand in the gap. "This I swear, on my brothers, my father-"
The gap closed, severing Yukari's hand cleanly. Ruxandra paused, stunned by the display. Yukari didn't seem to register the delimbing, her heavy-lidded stare focused on Ruxandra as the gap reopened. From out the opening flooded a deluge of dark material, caking Yukari's severed wrist. The youkai's attention briefly left Ruxandra to survey the wound, the golden eyes admiring the nightmare-dressed stump with a pleased sound.
"Very well, Ruxandra," She sighed, the oozing darkness around her stump opening into lumpen claws mottled with hungry eyes. "Here I come."
The gas fixtures lighting the cabin burst one after the other as the gap youkai launched herself past them. Followed by a rising tide of street signs and tenebrous limbs, Yukari began her offensive.
"SPELL!" The word rang out from Voile.
The cracked stone fountain in the front garden caught alight, purple flames rushing out to consume the remains of the front gate. The fire rushed along the broken walls and the hedgerows, surrounding the mansion in a flame so fierce that the Wallachian steeds shrieked and turned from it, the knights upon them flinching back with frenzied cries. The squadron leader's helmet turned this way and that for some way around or through the wall, but there was nothing, his blood slowing when he locked eyes with his prey.
Beyond the barricade and surrounded by her coterie, Remilia regarded him smugly as mansion debris began to float upwards, seemingly carried by the flames. "Tell your leader this; that-"
The mansion disappeared behind sheets of flame, the cyclone of fire banding closer and closer until it collapsed in on itself, revealing to the Wallachian knights nothing but scorched earth in an empty lot, the red mist departing as quickly as a dream before the rays of the sun.
"-she can take her deluded succession war and- Patchyyyyyyy!" Remilia cried out, her appalled shout at her ruined one-liner rupturing with laughter as she stared at the swirling void that had once been the cobbled streets and blocky houses of London. They were away, travelling beyond the tunnel of time and space.
They were free.
"Victory!" Remilia cried as she punched the air. The ramshackle hall erupted into cheering. Sakuya was the only one who remained silent, blinking slowly as she heard Meiling's lusty bellow be bolstered by the applause of the fairy workforce that sported powder-burnt smiles and hands worn bloody by the fighting and the fortifying. She heard Flandre timidly join in only after Remilia took her hand and raised it high.
On the chalk-scored and book-strewn floors of Voile, she knew a frazzled Patchouli was slouching in an easy chair whilst Koakuma cheered loudly enough for the two of them.
They were such a discordant, disparate band of misfits. How they had won…
As though reading her thoughts, Meiling took Sakuya's wrist in her hand, raising it high, the maids' acclamation deepening as they saw their head maid get recognised.
Welcome to the crew, Sakuya blinked, her eyes flitting to Remilia's attentive smile as the unbidden thought reached her, if you'll have us.
Sakuya blinked away the tears, overwhelmed, hesitating for a moment.
Remilia forced out the laugh as she read her hesitation, climbing the step to the back of the hall.
Before she got her answer, she slipped.
Before even Meiling could react, Sakuya had caught Remilia's fall.
"Remi?!" Flandre cried out, the celebration abating for a second as Sakuya looked to Meiling with wide, questioning eyes.
"She's burnt out, is all. She's safe," Meiling added volume to her voice, the tension easing at her announcement, "She just needs blood, and rest."
At that, Meiling assigned workers to board up the front of the mansion from the eye-straining spectacle of Patchouli's travel magic whilst Sakuya, Flandre and Meiling took the unconscious Remilia back to her suite.
"Mistress Yukari, I am here!" Ran declared as she charged through an opening gap, chased by a blizzard of her shikigami and bristling magical glyphs. Her shoe scuffed the gouged trench that led up the train carriage, her gaze rapidly taking in the glass covered floor, the gutted cabins, walls that pulsated with Yukari's creature-
She paused when she saw where her mistress was.
Those tired, golden eyes stirred, at last connecting with Ran. Sat - no, slumped - next to her was…
Ran never knew a vampire could go into shock. She had never seen that immortal kind suffer such catastrophic damage, let alone register it.
"Ran?" Yukari's painfully delicate voice stirred Ran out of her thoughts, "Would you kindly make good on the promise you made to this one?"
Ran blinked, letting her shikigami drift to the floor as her battle glyphs dissipated. "Of course, mistress."
Ruxandra awoke to his shushing voice.
"There she is, thank… well, you-know-who, you're alright!" The man beamed, their rosy-cheeked companions easing back to give her air as she studied the familiar figure leaning over her. Long, curly hair. Handsome, heart-shaped face. Peach-fuzz on his mouth and chin that he called generously facial hair.
"...Mihnea?" Ruxandra whispered, incredulous.
"To think my thaumaturgy wouldn't have done away with your weakness to plums," Her older brother smiled doubtfully, "You would think the gift of unlife would've done away with allergies, of all things, but I suppose there's mysteries that even I-"
"Mihnea, do shut up," Ruxandra's voice wavered, her severed wrist reaching out, diligently caught by Yukari's reassuring grip.
"Sister?" Yukari injected a high note of concern into her voice as Ran layered it, "What is it?"
Ruxandra's eyes searched Mihnea's face for some sign of trickery as his digits laced with hers, the feeling of his fingers at the same time more and less than real. Her heart burnt as her other hand pushed those brunette curls aside, felt the warm hair on the back of his neck. Her features crumpled.
"You're here." She managed.
Mihnea's smile had a ghost of mischief to it then. "I'll go if you like. No, hey," He whispered, taking her in his arms as she started to cry, holding her tightly as she recounted the terrible dreams she had experienced, of his descent, of Wallachia's fall, the things she'd been made to do, of the girl within the gaps. When she calmed, she would ask many questions. Mihnea would tell her that his experiments with the blood had been a success, both their line and their country spared the ravages of their hunger. The peasantry were still recovering from the heavy handed rule of their father, and relations were frosty with the humans abroad, and war was ever on the horizon, but it made the lie easier to digest, to describe an imperfect heaven, and that was all that mattered.
Once Ruxandra was crying with desperate laughter, Mihnea would guide her out from under the plum trees towards the slope where their coach awaited them. Behind it, her escort of knights waited patiently, knights she'd known all her life, who she remembered… no, imagined, leading to London, of all places.
Gone were the sunken and nightmarish features. Andrei's idling grin looked back at her, perking up and going bashful when she caught him staring. Musetai threw an elbow into his side, giggling at his embarrassment. Tihomir was there, and Iacob, and Cibar too, all safe, all smiles.
The marchioness Remilia was there, dressed in the same midnight plate as her knights, concern plain on her childish face. Even as Ruxandra sobbed out an apology, she knew how troubling it must have been, to apologise for these imagined slights, for all of it.
Ruxandra smiled sheepishly as she was reassured by both Remilia and Mihnea as they helped her into the coach.
Yukari maintained the fantasy for the mangled remains of Ruxandra as the train passed the dark side of the Earth. Despite the umbrella that had run her through and pinned her to her seat, Ruxandra held on gently to the gap youkai's hand, smiling faintly as the sun's rays leapt across the void and gave her peace.
"That was… well done," Ran said evenly, seeing her mistress go stock still as her opponent vanished into ash, a jet black vambrace falling from her gloved hand to join the scraps of empty armour.
"Get us home, Ran," Yukari said quietly, her gaze lingering on her ash-smeared glove, "I've taken enough liberties with Yuyuko's patience."
"Yes, mistress." Ran bowed deeply to Yukari before she headed to the front of the train.
Yukari's hand closed, thoughtfully teasing the dust between her fingers as Ran took them back to their home upon the boundary.
"Good morning."
Those were the words Remilia heard as her eyes flitted open. She rolled over towards the voice, expecting Patchouli. What she got was Sakuya slipping past her bedroom door, clad in a modest black dress, not unlike the outfit she had worn as Edwin's creature.
"What is this?" Remilia slurred, a nervous heat suddenly filling her heart as she sat up by her elbows. Had she merely dreamt it all?
Sakuya gave her a perplexed look, standing with hands clasped at her front. "I have scouted the city twice now; as far as I can tell, it is empty of our enemies."
Remilia remembered then, the anxiety of past days replaced with a calmer, colder reality. "It has to be today," She agreed. A selfish part of her wanting to slump back into bed, wondering if she would be greeted with happier times when she resurfaced. She forced herself to sit up properly, pushing the sheets. "Then let us conclude our business in this place properly. You may go. I will dress myself."
"It's no trouble."
Remilia's chin lifted. "We haven't employed you yet, Sakuya - Besides, I won't have you work on this day."
Sakuya shrugged a shoulder as she offered up a sad smile. "Please allow me to attend you, Miss Remilia."
Remilia didn't have the strength to refuse her. She nodded. "Then, let us prepare for today together."
Sakuya garbed her in a dress as dark as her own and almost as plain before the both of them headed to the library's apartments. There, they were mirrored by Patchouli and Koakuma, though they had not yet changed to suit the occasion.
"We'll be ready by the time you return." Patchouli promised. At Remilia's nod, she turned and led them to the bedroom. She opened the door, revealing the slumbering Olivia de Vere.
"When she resurfaces, she will be frightened. She will have returned from where she had lost consciousness - on that night of nights," Patchouli cautioned them all.
Remilia inclined her head to indicate her understanding. "Sakuya, Koakuma, if you would wait outside?"
The servants did not need telling twice, leaving the masters within the room. Patchouli raised a hand to Olivia de Vere's crown, a circle of white light forming on her forehead.
"Awaken, daughter of man." Patchouli whispered, breaking her enchantment.
Olivia de Vere did so slowly, her eyes drifting open, blinking rapidly when she saw the two girls flanking this unfamiliar bed with its scarlet sheets.
"Good morning, Olivia de Vere." Remilia started, raising her hands as though to placate a startled dog.
"Miss Remilia." Olivia murmured.
The spoken word raised Patchouli's eyebrows and lit up Remilia's face with shock.
"What?" Patchouli blurted out.
"Hmm?" Olivia sounded.
That's not-" Patchouli started, stopping when Remilia threw the young witch a meaningful look before speaking herself, "Introduce yourself to my friend, will you, Olivia?"
Olivia looked Patchouli up and down, offering Remilia an incredulous smile. "It's early, Remilia…" She murmured, before offering her hand. "I am Olivia de Vere. Who are you?"
"She is Patchouli," Remilia cut in, aware of how Patchouli stared at Olivia's lips, "Olivia, might you tell me what you remember happening last night?"
"I'd rather not…"
"Please, if you'd indulge me?" Remilia asked, "It could be important."
"I was… I was accosted. By… I don't know who. But I recall that I was saved by you. You and your gardener," Olivia managed, her eyes full of admiration.
Remilia's teeth worried the inside of her lip before she put on a smile. "You would have done the same thing for me, Olivia," She said gently.
Olivia smiled back, the gesture fading as she looked Remilia up and down. "That's a very dreary colour you're wearing?"
Remilia lowered her chin at that. "I am grieving, Olivia. Once we get you home, I imagine you'll be wearing such bleak apparel yourself."
Remilia was strangely gratified to see tears when she finished her explanation. Once Remilia was finished, she and Patchouli both left Olivia to allow her to dress. Once the doors closed, Remilia turned to Patchouli. "Mind telling me what that was about?"
Patchouli glared back at Remilia. "They did this."
Remilia blinked, taken aback by her friend's anger. "Did what? You made Olivia whole, did you not?"
"Exactly!" Patchouli snapped, "So why did they do this? Undoing my work, changing it-"
"Peace, Patchy," Remilia raised a hand, beckoning her friend to calm, "We will have our answers, once we have put things aright here."
"That's not how 'aright' is used, Remi," Patchouli sighed, her anger barely stowed.
"Come, then. Instruct me on the proper usage as you walk me to the entrance hall," Remilia invited, flashing a smile when Patchouli's irritation was broken by a grudging little grin.
"Smoothly done," Patchouli conceded.
"No it wasn't," Remilia protested even as she led her friend down the hall, "Not if you noticed it. Now, explain as we walk!"
Once they reached Olivia's home, Remilia was gratified that Olivia took her suggestion to accompany her after she had found a change of clothes.
"You sure you don't mind?" Remilia asked Olivia as smoke and smog blanketed the sky above them like dirty cotton.
"I feel a little bad about not telling my parents that I'm alive and well," Olivia admitted, "But you told me the funeral is happening now, and you would rather avoid questions. Besides, my nanny knows I am alright, and that's enough for me. She's more family than my parents ever were."
Remilia was gratified to hear that Olivia's recollection of their shared difficulties and reconciliation seemed to have survived whatever had robbed her memory. "I'm glad you have someone like that in your life," Remilia said, "Though - and do tell me to poke off if I speak too freely - do try to give your parents some benefit of the doubt? They must love you."
Olivia did not look certain, smiling politely back at Remilia, pausing when her eyes glimpsed over the star that hung over the graveyard's black-iron archway. "Are you sure this is the right place?" She asked.
Beyond the bars, Remilia could tell that the daughter had done right by the father.
At the head of the wooden casket stood one of the jewish holy men - a rabbi - in his robes and head covering. A handful of older gentlemen stood with the bearing of military men, accompanied by younger attendants - former students - who dutifully stood with them. On the periphery sat a woman in her fifties, puffy eyed and doing her best to smile through the eulogy. Meiling stood tallest amongst the girls at the back of the service, wearing a conciliatory smile and an outfit of black and white burlap, her green, star-decorated beret absent. Patchouli was there in a black hood and robes, her face like stone as Koakuma hung her own head low. Flandre - her darling sister Flandre - was there, dressed in black, her expression one of clear focus to pay attention to the priest as he spoke, occasionally turning and marvelling at the maid who had her by the hand.
Sakuya stood there with a reserved grace, offering a brave smile to anyone who caught her eye, though Remilia could see and feel the tide of sadness that washed over her features.
"Would you like to stand with us, Olivia?" Remilia asked as Sakuya's brittle smile reached them both.
"She's very pretty," Flandre whispered loudly to Meiling before glancing conspiratorially at Olivia's flattered smile.
"Hey," Meiling craned low to Flandre's ear when she caught the general mood, " You wanna piggyback?"
Flandre's excited intake of breath was all the confirmation Meiling needed as she took a knee. "Alright, up-up-up, hold tight," Meiling ordered, lightly jogging ahead and allowing the residents to talk with the human.
"Your sister seems nice," Olivia remarked.
"She is," Remilia managed, watching Meiling and Flandre walk across the brick road towards the mansion.
"What will you all do next?" Olivia asked.
"I don't know," Remilia replied, her red eyes meeting Olivia's tranquil blues, "Perhaps we'll hopscotch around the place, causing chaos like we did here."
"It shall be less exciting, to lose you all," Olivia decided, looking about herself for some distraction, her eyes widening when she spotted a boy that ducked behind a low wall.
"It will be less turbulent, I hope - and don't mind him. He's been following us since we passed the factories. In fact… Sakuya, bring him here, will you?" Remilia asked.
In a flash, Sakuya was at their side with her hands clamped on the startled boy's shoulders. Olivia's gaze rushed up and down the taller girl, her mouth opening when she saw the flat of a knife resting at the boy's neck. She looked to Remilia, expecting her to be mortified.
Remilia held the mildest frown on her face as she looked at Sakuya, seeing the same feral expression that had driven a similar knife up into Edwin Barnes' back.
"Sheathe it, Sakuya," Remilia instructed calmly. The order startled Sakuya, for a moment looking chastised before she quickly removed the blade.
"Please don't kill me," The boy rushed the words out.
"No-one's dying today. You least of all. You had the nerve to approach me in your warren."
"The audacity," Patchouli quipped.
"Yes, the audacity," Remilia tasted the word before focusing on the boy, "No, if anything, I ought to reward you. Tell me, where is your mother, child?"
The boy rubbed the back of his neck, free to move yet wary of making sudden movements with these unknowns all around him. "Like my Da', she's passed on."
The self-assured smile left Remilia's face as she listened. "I am sorry to hear that. In which case…" he watched Remilia turn to the other young noblewoman present. "May I ask a favour of you, Miss Olivia?
Olivia?"
The countess turned in time to see Olivia staring at Sakuya, a dawning recognition in the noblewoman's eyes.
"Sakuya, go to Meiling," Remilia rushed out, earning the attention of both girls, "I don't want her letting Flandre run roughshod over the house."
Sakuya's gaze almost made it to Olivia's face, almost defying Remilia and daring to address the noblewoman. As good sense reasserted itself, she bowed heavily to Remilia, "Yes," Sakuya answered simply, gone by the time Olivia turned back towards her.
"Olivia," Remilia said in relief, her cold fingers gripping the boy's shoulder, "This boy chose to help me when no-one else would, when the odds were against me. Would you try him on as one of your family's servants?"
He felt Remilia's fingers rush up to the back of her head, stiff with fear as he felt the digits tug a hair between them.
The girl with the blue eyes stared at him in a way that made him feel strange. Unlike most of the toffs and their offspring, she looked at him.
When she smiled, he decided he enjoyed the feeling. "Helpful and selfless?" Olivia asked wistfully, "I'm sure I can vouch for him. Perhaps credit him with your deeds of heroism."
"Ow!" The boy yowled as he felt Remilia pull something fine and sensitive from the nape of his neck.
"If I must sacrifice my acclaim to secure the boy's fortunes," Remilia mused, her red-eyed gaze lingering on the scarlet thread that lengthened between her fingers, "Then I shall."
Patchouli was curt and quiet in leaving, with Koakuma being similarly reserved. Soon, it was just Remilia, Olivia and the factory boy standing in front of the ramshackle fortress that was the Scarlet Devil Mansion's front entrance.
"Will I ever see you again, Remilia?" Olivia asked.
"I pray you never have the misfortune," Remilia told her, smiling at the girl's crestfallen expression, "But I would rejoice all the same."
The hug took her by surprise. The vampire belatedly clapped Olivia's shoulder, the familiar and forceful gesture getting a jump out of her.
"In this life or the next, Olivia de Vere," Remilia promised, grinning as she parted from her.
"Take care of yourself," Olivia managed, smiling sadly.
"You both look after each other! This is my decree!" Remilia shouted back over her shoulder, feeling a modicum of peace in that moment.
Remilia had never given the chapel of the mansion much thought.
It had been dedicated to a god that was barred to her. It reminded her of Mihnea's depravities, the humans and their fervent hate of her. She had ignored the chapel as a result, and as a consequence, it had been regarded as a low priority by the maids.
Now, she dallied on the threshold, knowing who was in there, knowing that she was - at least in part - the cause of the tumultuous feelings that radiated from the little hall.
She stepped through the small door, the smell of old wood scented by day-old cleaning product. For all the colour of the stained glass, the light rays that spilled into the house were cold and clean. Beyond and around the pulpit sat the now emptied sarcophagi, the cold stone of the coffins made colder by the gently crackling outcrop of ice that surrounded the pulpit. Remilia searched for the right words as she watched water run in silver lines off of the crystalline spires.
"Patchouli passes on her apologies about the carpet," The lone occupant of the pews said, the sunlight making her hair shimmer like white gold.
Remilia's hand went to the back of one of the benches for comfort. For a moment, she thought to joke that it would come out of Patchouli's allowance, before she thought better of it. "The carpet doesn't matter."
Sakuya said nothing as she languished in her seat, her gaze resting on the sarcophagus that had held him.
Remilia forced her foot to move, to put one in front of the other as she walked the aisle. "Felt we should discuss things."
She felt the front of the storm long before Sakuya spoke. "You mean," The maid spoke slowly, "we should debrief… in regards to what happened on that night."
Remilia nodded, forgetting briefly that Sakuya couldn't see her. "Yeah."
"I need to hear how he died," Sakuya said, her voice hollow.
Remilia slid into the row of pews, sitting a space away from Sakuya. She could feel the build-up of emotions from the servant girl, and knew full well that no matter what she said, the dam would burst.
She braced herself as she pushed out the words, "Then… I shall tell you, Sakuya."
And so Remilia relayed the details of a man's death to his daughter. She strove to retell the tale wholly and cleanly. She recounted the words they exchanged in the dungeon. She described to Sakuya how Jared Osbourne had faced that final mystery with grace, holding his colour to the bitter end, even then forcing Remilia to promise him that she would save them all.
"If you'd foreseen it," Sakuya murmured, "You wouldn't have had him there?"
Remilia shook her head. "No. I would've come for you alone, if I needed to, but he suggested he could persuade you."
"And your talk of fate moving through him…?"
Remilia's eyebrows slanted, feeling the pressure amplify. "I can control fate, when I am at my best. When I am fatigued, I try to avoid the use of my powers, as… without guidance or a firm hand, it can make what I want become reality, but at a hidden cost."
She felt Sakuya turn slightly, felt those silver eyes staring down at her, felt the raw emotion building beyond containment. With wetted eyes, Remilia went on, "I… can't know if my power was what made his survival impossible, or if it merely stayed off his death long enough for him to help me, in a place where it would… allow him to help me. All I know is that Jared gave it for a purpose, and I hate myself for what I did, for all its necessity, and I understand why you would hate me so."
Remilia swallowed. She felt maddening tension fill Sakuya's chest, the mindlink fizzing with anxious static.
"Necessity?" Sakuya asked. She forced herself to turn to face the maid, the sight of her stoic expression brimming with tears nearly throwing her off. Remilia slid from the bench, standing, caught between embracing her and leaving her to her grief. At her questioning look, Remilia nodded. "He had me promise that I would save you."
Across the bond they possessed, she felt something give within Sakuya's being as the tension reached a fever pitch.
The taller girl rushed her, arms lashing around her as her face buried in Remilia's shoulder.
"I don't want to hate you," Sakuya whined, "I can't bear to hate you…"
Remilia's voice was a shaky whisper, "I'm sorry. If I did hurt him - more than he was - I'm sorry."
"I never got to say goodbye…!" Came the muffled reply. Sakuya's entire body shook Remilia. The undead princess' arms went around the taller girl to her back, hugging her close as she herself blinked tears away.
"It's okay to cry, Sakuya," Remilia promised in a strained whisper, barely finishing her own sentence when Sakuya began to sob.