Louise has Michael practice his magic in preperation for the Familiar Exhibition tomorrow.

They aren't the only ones making preperations, however.


Preparation

I drop onto my knees and pant for breath.

If Louise forces me to conjure another fireball, then I'm gonna faint!

I'm no natural when it comes to magic, unlike most of the students here at Tristain Academy.

Hell, given the way my body feels each time I try casting more intense magic, I sometimes wonder how I'm able to conjure fire at all!

"I-I need a breather, Louise," I tell my mistress, clutching a hand to my chest whilst breathing in and out to steady my hammering heartbeat.

"You're lucky I'm so merciful," she harrumphs. "To think you jogged the length of the Academy this morning after breakfast, but a couple of fireballs tire you out this much."

"Well, cut me some slack, it isn't like people from my world can do this kinda stuff on a whim," I say in my defense. Louise gives a tut and narrows her pink gaze at me.

"Well, you should have brought Toby out here with you, idiot," she chastises. "At least that way he might have helped you somehow."

"I didn't get the chance, what with you rushing me out of the room for breakfast," I groan in protest, running the fingers of one hand through my messy, blonde locks. "And besides, if I can't learn to grasp this kinda stuff then what's the point of me having it in the first place?"

"Point taken," Louise mutters and nods her head in agreement before waving one hand in a sweeping motion while she says, "However, I still demand that do your duty as my familiar and put on a suitable performance tomorrow. It is essential I impress the princess."

My chest a little less tight now, I get to my feet.

"You're really taking this Exhibition stuff seriously, Louise."

"Of course!" she exclaims with a wide sweeping gesture of her hand. "If I fail to showcase my familiar properly, I'll end up being a laughing stock! If that happens in front of the Princess then I'll never forgive myself. Not when she's shown me naught but kindness since we were little."

Louise begins to tremble for a moment in rage at the thought of such an outcome.

Honestly concerned for her feelings, I touch a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You also weren't kidding when you said this 'Henrietta' girl means a lot to you, either."

Louise's cheeks flush a little red.

"O-Of course not," she says, trying to play down the importance of Henrietta's presence. "H-How would you feel if you humiliated yourself in front of your childhood friend...?"

"I get you, don't worry," I smile. "Being real with you, though, I'm running a little low on energy."

Louise's cheeks flush red suddenly and she clutches her palms to her chest.

"W-Well, I may have a solution for that, Michael," she stutters.

"Alright, I'm listening."

Her face practically gleaming a bright shade of red, Louise grabs ahold of me by my vest top and pulls me close to her. She swallows hard in her throat and slowly opens her lips wide to speak.

"T-Think back to your duel against Guiche for a moment, idiot," the girl prompts me meekly, shuddering. "T-The thing we did together, to be precise."

I recall pulling Louise close and pressing her lips to mine, my heartbeat kicking upward several notches at the memory.

"You mean...oh."

Louise nods emphatically.

"D-Do it again," she demands me. "It's the only thing that'll restore your energy levels, a-and help you use your magic better, too."

My eyes linger over Louise's small, soft lips. She does have a point in wanting to give me another energy boost.

Still, something about kissing her feels different from how it did a week ago. I'm... weirdly reluctant.

My brow jerks upward.

"You sure about this, Princess...?"

Louise starts. "You can kiss Montmorency just fine... but kissing me - your master - is a problem...?"

My throat tightens up a little

"H-Hey, I didn't mean it like that..."

Louise grumbles and crosses her arms.

"I-If it's because you think it'll be weird between us, then just pretend that I'm her," she suggests, her cheeks turning redder by the second.

I hold up my hands defensively and take a backward step.

"N-No, it's nothing like that, I swear."

Louise steps toward me, her pink eyes crackling with an intense heat.

"T-Then what's the problem...?"

I swallow hard in my throat.

"I... Well... What I mean to say is..."

Louise brings her hands to her hips. Narrowing her eyes, she leans into my personal space.

"Hmmm?"

My heart skips a beat in my chest.

Because I did it to win the last time, dammit!

This time I... I worry I'll actually enjoy it. No, I know I'll enjoy it.

Or, that's what I want to admit. Unfortunately, I don't have the heart. Not when shit with Montmorency and Siesta is getting a little complicated.

"Alright, I guess there's no way around this, then," I sigh.

Louise looks up at me, her eyes lighting up expectantly.

"S-So you'll do it...?"

Without a word, I loop my arm around the dainty girl's waist and sweep her clean off of her feet. I hold her there in the air and pull her body up against my own, my heart fluttering and my throat drying up at the sensation of her soft, bee-sting boobs pressing to my chest.

"O-Oh, wow," Louise murmurs, her eyes flickering with tenderness.

With no words left to say, I press my lips up against hers and let myself go.

I lose all sense of what's happening as I begin kissing her, letting my feelings speak where I can't use words.

As our lips continue to lock together, a warm, tingling sensation spreads throughout my body, filling me with a pleasant, refreshing feeling.

It's just as amazing as it was the last time Louise and I kissed

No, I'm downplaying it, this is even better!

The feeling of Louise's lips and her sweet, gentle breathing... I'm completely losing myself in it.

"Hahh," Louise pants as she breaks away from me. "Michael... you're going too far," she squeaks, her voice trembling but her eyes doughy and soft.

She's right.

And, beyond that, I don't feel a magical surge swimming through my body like I did when Guiche and I dueled. Not even a flicker.

But I do feel something else.

Something a little more primal, but also... a lot nicer.

"M-Michael," Louise utters, her small body trembling with feeling.

I swallow hard, and then slowly lower her to the ground.

"S-Sorry, got a little carried away there, Louise," I stutter.

Louise stares up at me for a long, lingering moment, before shaking her head and looking off to the side.

"W-Well it had better be worth it, idiot," she utters, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes sparkling with what I hope is quiet satisfaction. "C-Cast a spell already...!"

I nod.

I raise my hand in front of myself and try to summon a small, simple flame to my palm.

Nothing at first.

I breathe in and out to center myself. Then, I snap my fingers.

A small, round flame flutters into existence in my open palm, hovering just a few inches above the surface of my skin.

It's no larger than the usual flames I've conjured outside of duels, and certainly nowhere near as intense as the literal firestorm that coiled up my arms during my duel with Count Mott.

Honestly exhausted, I shake my head. Then, closing my palm, I snuff out the flame.

"Sorry, Louise... It's not working this time..."

Louise frowns and tilts her head to the side.

"That's odd. Why aren't you producing fires like the ones from before...?"

"I don't know," I mutter, feeling a little disheartened.

"Perhaps your being able to do so is tied to something," Louise theorizes with a hum, tapping a finger to her chin. "Maybe it's not just because you're tired, either. Perhaps it's because you have something on your mind, as well."

I scratch the back of my neck and give a slight shrug. Whatever the case, my fires aren't all that intense today.

"Y-Yeah, maybe. Guess I'm just not in the mood."

"H-Hey," Louise calls out to me suddenly. "Are you feeling okay, Michael...?"

My stomach honestly flutters at Louise showing some legit concern.

I'll take what she's willing to give.

"Fine, Princess, just fine," I answer flatly. "Anyway, we good to call it quits for today? All this forcing it, magic-wise I mean; it's tiring me out."

Louise nods, her expression somewhat uneasy.

"If that's what you want, then sure," she responds. "Besides, it's getting late anyway. We'd best make our way back to the dorms and prepare for dinner."

I glance skyward. True to Louise's saying so, the sun is getting low and there's an orange tinge to the clear blue expanse above my head.

"Alright. Let's do that," I say, gesturing toward the Academy.

We begin making our way back across the fields, our feet crunching softly through the grass.

Partway toward the front entranceway, Louise snatches my hand into hers and squeezes it tightly.

The two of us share something of a fragile smile over her doing so, and then walk together in silence the rest of the way to the building.

There's... an air of tension between us. I feel it clear as day.

And it's only getting worse with each step we take.

I glance at Louise.

Her eyes are locked straight ahead. She's blushing profusely.

I turn back to the path, a strange warmth filling my cheeks.

I...

I need to focus.

I shake my head and look ahead, but the thoughts won't leave my mind.

Just how far would I have gone if Louise hadn't broken our kiss?

The answer both excites and worries me.


Night has fallen and the world's two moons sit high in the sky. On the grounds of the Tristain Academy of Magic, the dormitories sit in darkness. The common rooms are mostly empty, and no lights show in the upstairs windows as the world's inhabitants lay sleeping.

It is the perfect time for Fouquet to discard her mask and show her true colours.

It is what she was sent here to do, after all.

Matilda De Saxe-Gotha crosses the lawn with purpose, easily evading the spells that lay in wait for any of the night-time intruders to appear. Reaching the walls of the long building, she runs her hands across the stone.

"This is the place, as we agreed," she utters beneath her breath, her lips creeping upward into a calculated smirk.

The large leatherbound tome she carries over her shoulder is pressed close to her person whilst she waits. Just in case a mage with rather keen senses is attuned to her at this late hour, of course.

Nothing happens at first.

No reply from the shadows.

Moments drag on as though eternal. All the while, Matilda waits. She casts a glance over her shoulder every few seconds to ensure no one is coming up behind her.

She hears only the singing of crickets in the darkness. No human voices echo over the lawn, only her racing heartbeat.

And then, for an instant so brief that only a master mage could detect it, the wind drops cold.

Only a fraction of the temperature, so faint as to be almost unnoticeable.

And then, in the corner of Matilda's vision, appears a man clad in black robes.

Her partner in crime.

"You have something you want to tell me?" the man says suddenly, as if it is nothing to show his face like this.

Matilda flicks a glance toward him and nods.

"I do, yes," she states, with no signs of the emotions simmering just below the surface - her eagerness. "The time to snatch the Staff of Destruction is finally upon us."

The cloaked man holds up a small hand and runs his finger in an arc in the air.

"When exactly?" he presses, his voice cold and sinister.

"Tomorrow," Matilda answers with a certain resolution. "...Whilst Princess Henrietta visits the Academy. The old fool Osmond let it slip; he intends to shift several of the school's square-class mages away from the vault - to aid in keeping the Her Highness safe during the royal visit."

"They would not leave the Staff entirely alone, surely," the cloaked man retorts, his tone betraying no emotion.

"No, they would not," Matilda returns, confirming the man's suspicions. "But I am more than capable of handling those who remain, I assure you."

There are another few moments of silence before the robed figure speaks again.

"I see," he muses. "Excellent. Then, it would be prudent of me to send a few of our... faithful your way, to meet you once you have recovered the artifact."

"If that is to your liking, then by all means," Matilda replies, speaking to the air as the cloaked man intones a spell and blinks away into the night.

Lifting her eyes to the two moons, Fouquet lets out a low chuckle.

"After enduring years of that old pervert Osmond pawing at me, I will finally leave this place."

To be continued...


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