Louise awakens from another cold night without her familiar beside her.
Later, she goes with Toby to wish Princess Henrietta a safe return journey to Tristania.
Henrietta's Blessing
A soft moan falls from Louise's lips as her eyes slowly flutter open.
Turning over in bed with sleep-distorted vision, she reaches out to draw Michael close.
For warmth. For dearly needed comfort.
...Her heart sinks as she recalls him lying in his infirmary bed, so still and quiet.
In a daze, her eyes open fully. The fog clears from her vision.
Outstretching a hand, her fingertips brush against the two extinguished candles at her bedside.
One for Michael. The other for his mother's birthday.
A sigh escapes her lips. And as it does, dread grips her stomach.
"...I wish you'd wake up, Idiot..."
Michael would normally return her playful jab by calling her Princess. A pet name Louise hated at first
. Now, though? It's grown on her. Grown on her as much as his teasing nature. And his dogged stubbornness.
"...I wish you'd give me a petty excuse to argue with you, too," she whispers to the empty space in her bed where the familiar usually sleeps.
The sounds of footsteps come closer and closer to her room. Louise's heart races.
There comes a small, gentle knock.
The person knocks again.
A woman's voice carries softly through the door.
"May I speak with you, Miss Vallière?"
That voice... It's Miranda.
"Of course, Miss Miranda," Louise answers with a short outward breath. "I'm not dressed yet, though. We'll have to converse like this, through the door."
Because her hair is a mess. And because she hasn't taken care of herself as well as she should have since Michael's admission to the infirmary.
The voice falls silent for a moment. Miranda then clears her throat.
"...I understand, Miss Vallière. I merely stopped by to inform you that Princess Henrietta and I intend to depart for Tristania within the hour. Should you wish to see Her Highness off, then now would be your best chance."
With a cold sigh, Louise looks down at her toes.
She shakes her head, then slowly climbs out of bed and walks to the doorway.
"Miss Vallière, are you sure you don't need-"
"Worry not, Miss Miranda. I'll dress and meet Princess Henrietta shortly. Please return to her and relay as much on my behalf," Louise asks, her voice cracking. "You have my word that I won't be long."
"...As you wish. I'll go now and deliver your intent to join her," the good lady attendant agrees.
The sound of heels click and clack against the stone floor outside. Second by second, they lose their sharpness until Louise hears them no longer.
Sighing gently, the dainty mage turns back toward the bed.
Her crumpled school uniform greets her. A uniform she would've asked Michael to pass along to Siesta, had he been up and about.
A uniform she hasn't the heart to give to Siesta herself. Especially after the jealousy she felt when seeing the maid at Michael's bedside. And doubly so after the following spat.
His front cover flapping, Toby lets out a yawn and floats up from his usual spot on the windowsill. "This is no way to live, my dear girl. If I may, it would seem that you -"
"Have you nothing better to do than worry over me, Toby?" Louise hisses.
Emotions swirl and crash within the girl, and tears spill down her cheeks.
"Forgive me, Louise. I -"
"It's fine," the pinkette assures with a sniffle.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
Then another.
"I'm sorry, Toby. Really, I am. I'm just so worried about that stupid familiar of mine," Louise reasons, burying her face in her hands.
"...I understand," Toby murmurs. "Consider it this way though, Louise. My being able to move around as I do is proof he yet lives. Does that not provide you with some small comfort?"
"It doesn't. If anything, it worries me all the more. He's not out of the woods yet," Louise sighs.
"Ah. I suppose not," Toby says, tilting downward as though looking at the floor. "Still, may I ask you something?"
"If you like, yes," Louise consents with a shrug.
"Don't you think you should look at the bright side, instead of dwelling on the worst?"
A few moments of silence pass. Louise lets out a tired sigh. "Easier said than done. Unless Michael's miraculously better by tonight, then I've no reason to cheer up."
Grimoire turns downward again, its spine creaking with effort.
"Contrary to that sharp tongue, you truly cherish the lad, don't you?"
Louise wipes her eyes. "What a stupid question. Of course I do...! Even though I find it hard to admit at times."
A small silence falls over them. Louise's voice quiets.
"It scares me, Toby. Every time I see his body so still, it feels like I'm being pulled into an ocean with no way out."
Louise sits on her bed and gazes intently at the floating tome. The edges of its pages gently flutter in the air.
After another moment, Louise blinks her sore and puffy eyes.
"Oh, look at me. Here I am, practically falling to pieces without that Idiot around," she chuckles sadly. "If you were the one lying in that hospital bed, Toby, I'm sure you'd think me silly for feeling this way."
The pinkette inhales sharply as the aching in her chest grows ever worse. A part of her just wants to curl up and cry. Just like she used to when she was a little girl.
Shaking her head, Louise lets out a short, sharp groan.
"Last week, when you advised I reflected upon my feelings toward him... Well, I did. Quite a bit, actually," she reveals to Michael's talking tome.
"Did you now, Miss Louise?" asks Toby, his voice laced with intrigue.
The pinkette scratches her neck as her cheeks warm.
"I did, yes. Admittedly, he's not such an idiot anymore. In fact, he's becoming someone I can earnestly rely on. So much so that... Well, I wouldn't be without him, Toby... I truly feel something for him, I'll admit."
Her words free for the book to absorb; Louise forces a small, thin frown.
"If you tell him as much when he finally awakens, though, I'll throw you out of the window," Louise laughs quietly.
Gently, Toby lifts himself a little higher into the air. "I won't tell him. But I will offer a small piece of advice."
Louise narrows her eyes. "And what advice could a book possibly offer? Hmm?"
"Forget about the distance between you two for a moment. This love business is far too fragile to let one small thing like physical separation ruin your chances. Especially while you aren't the only focus of his attentions."
"Siesta, you mean," Louise grumbles, recalling the maid by Michael's bedside yesterday evening.
"Regardless of whom, you shouldn't sit idle and fret. You need should remain strong and hopeful, for his sake as well as your own," the magical spell book recommends.
"But it's not easy, Toby. Every time I think about that idiot in that bed, it's like someone's squeezing me from the inside. It's painful and it's scary," Louise mutters.
"It needn't be that way. You two have a natural affinity for each other, so you shouldn't let fear overtake you. Instead, you should muster your courage and wait for news of his recovery," the book continues.
Louise sighs and closes her eyes. "A natural affinity, you say? You're starting to sound like Colbert with his riddles and tales."
Toby chuckles at Louise's saying so.
"Perhaps, young miss, perhaps. I do wonder, though... Are you truly aware of how the familiar summoning ritual actually works?"
"Of course I'm aware," Louise snaps. "The runes on Michael's hand are proof enough that I cast the spell properly."
"No, Louise. This goes beyond mere runes. What I mean to say is, do you truly understand how the summoning spell matches a familiar with its master?"
Louise blinks, lowering her hands to the sides and sighing.
"Well, no... Professor Colbert didn't explain what the summoning spell does, only how we should go about performing it. Are you saying that you do Toby...?"
"Yes, I am," the spell book confirms with a hum.
"Really?! Then why haven't you told me yet?" Louise cries.
"...Firstly, Miss Louise, you didn't ask. And second, the workings of what the ritual truly does are so unbelievable that no one would believe me. Especially concerning one like yourself who is attuned to the void."
Flashes of fear and dread race through Louise's thoughts, pictures of Fouquet's towering golem lumbering nearer and nearer to her defenseless friends.
Then came that all-consuming darkness, followed by the burst of powerful negative energy.
Returning to the present with a blink, Louise raises her arms and stares thoughtfully into her two open palms.
"...You know something about what I did the other day? How, when you weren't even there...?!"
As if preparing to answer, the Grimoire flickers its pages.
"I do, yes. I sensed the power lying dormant inside of you from the moment Miss Montmorency dusted me off and removed me from that stuffy old shop, being truthful. That power, the same as that which you released several days prior, is the magic of the void."
Louise blinks several times. Then she frowns. "The magic of the void? Don't be ridiculous, Toby. No mage in the world can control such powerful magic. According to Professor Cheveruse, there have only been a handful of void mages in Tristanian history."
"...Correct, young lady. The magic of the void is rare indeed, which makes you rather unique."
Stunned, Louise simply gapes at the book, which hovers in the air.
"...You're saying I'm special...?" the pinkette poses quietly.
"Yes, Louise. You are," Toby replies. "And, as a void mage, only a handful of special familiar types suit you. Now, returning to what I said earlier about the summoning spell..."
Louise narrows her gaze and focuses her attention on Toby with greater vigor.
"When cast, it seeks by nature to pair a master with their most compatible familiar," the old tome explains with a rather learned undertone. "in most cases, this familiar is a creature of magical or mythical nature. Sometimes, however, the spell seeks out one who answers its call."
A small gasp leaves Louise.
"Did something I said interest you?" Toby wonders.
The pinkette nods. "It did..."
Louise recalls an earlier discussion she and Michael shared - one concerning an argument he had with his former beloved, Anna.
And as she does, her eyes widen.
"...Michael told me that he and the girl he once loved had argued. And, during that argument, he wished to be far, far away from her. He didn't care how far, or even where, either," Louise breathes, her chest feeling tight. "Does that mean my summoning spell heard his plea... and brought him to me?"
"I can't be certain, but it's possible," Toby admits. "It's called the summoning ritual for a reason. Tell me, Louise, what did you wish for in your heart when you cast your spell?"
At first, Louise has no idea what the good book means. Then, it suddenly hits her. "For a familiar that would be my friend despite my fallings... and never, ever, abandon me."
"Exactly," Toby grins. "And, despite his wayward heart concerning women, do you believe he would ever turn his back on you, young miss?"
Louise blinks. Her eyes turn down to the two small candles which rest on her bedside table. Smiling thinly, she lights them with a magical wick.
Those two tiny flames fill her eyes. They burn and reflect, reminding her of both Michael's fiery determination and his willingness to do whatever it takes to protect her.
Louise's smile widens.
"I don't," the pinkette confesses with a nod. "I don't believe he would. And it goes beyond he and I being master and familiar, too. It's simply who he is. Stubborn and headstrong. Just like me..."
Gazing into her candle, Louise imagines Michael's dark green eyes. His smile. His smug, stupid smirk.
"Thank you for reminding me that I'm not alone, Toby I'm sincerely grateful," Louise murmurs.
Picking up the spell book, she hugs it close and smiles sweetly.
"...I'll get dressed and wish Henrietta well on her return to the capital," the tired pinkette tells her spell book friend. "But... I want to go see him right after. Is that alright?"
"Of course, Louise. Do what makes you happiest."
...
Louise steps out into Tristain Academy's courtyard to find Henrietta's royal carriage parked at the top of the pathway. Beside it, the princess and her attendant Miranda appear to be having something of a serious discussion.
Having known Miranda as long as she has Henrietta, Louise can tell as much from the older woman's stern expression.
Opening out her pocket watch, Louise raises a brow.
"It's well past Noon," the noble notes in a whisper, honestly having been worried she might miss the Princess with how long getting ready was taking.
Returning the timepiece to her inside pocket and adjusting her hold over Grimoire Toby, who is under her arm, the pinkette heads over to Henrietta.
"Princess, I thought you intended to leave an hour ago," Louise points out upon reaching her royal friend. "With all due respect, what are you still doing here?"
"Her Highness decided to dally, and sent two of our host into Lenore with a rather large sum of coin, too much for a single potion, I might add," Miranda explains with an exceptionally serious tone, her expression stony.
Louise's heart flutters at the news, her eyes widening.
"P-Princess...! You needn't waste your precious time on account of my familiar," Louise mutters quietly, her cheeks reddening. "...I-I'm sure he'll wake up in time."
The princess shakes her head, disagreeing with the pink-haired noble. "I did what I did because I care about you and your familiar," the royal reasons softly. "You have saved me from an... uncomfortable discussion with my mother by recovering the stolen staff. A simple potion is the least I can do to return the favour."
Feeling warm inside and a renewed sense of hope blossoming in her chest, Louise smiles. "In that case, thank you, Your Highness. Your kindness and compassion know no bounds."
"It is my pleasure, Louise," Henrietta says with a bow of the head. "Personally, I feel you and your familiar deserve more for all of the trouble you went to. Miss Tabitha and Miss von Zerbst, as well."
Louise's pinkened cheeks darken to a deep red.
"Highness, your praise and the potion are already more than I could possibly hope for...!" Louise bows low as she mumbles her gratitude.
"Do not be so silly, Louise. I would have you and Mister Michael grace the royal palace for an evening as my honoured guests. Miss Tabitha and Miss von Zerbst, as well," Henrietta adds, a warm smile curling her lips. "Consider it my personal gift to all of you."
With a gentle smile, Henrietta pats her attendant on the shoulder. "Miranda... Please schedule a tentative date for such an audience, should the royal dairy allow it."
Miranda bows her head, ever faithful.
"As you wish, My Princess. However, there is the matter of Miss Vallière's familiar..."
Louise knows full well what the attendant will say next. Her stomach sinks like a stone.
"Not being of noble birth, Mister Michael cannot attend formal palace functions," the older woman explains to her younger charge. "It is in bad taste and against tradition for you to invite a commoner to such an event, even as a guest of Her Highness."
"But there is nothing to say he cannot stay as our guest, provided he remains confined to Louise's chambers," Henrietta counters, undaunted. "Furthermore, his affinity for fire magic places him a step above the average commoner in terms of status. Does it not, Miranda?"
"...It is true," Miranda admits begrudgingly, frowning.
Louise, meanwhile, can hardly believe what she is hearing. Her head hung low, her heart pounds pridefully and she wears the smallest of smug smiles.
A royal visit! Finally, something good she can write home to Mother and Father about. And she has Michael, her precious idiot, to thank for it. At least partially.
"Thank you, Princess. From the bottom of my heart, I am deeply grateful for the opportunity," she expresses, bowing on hand and knee.
"It is I who should thank you, Louise. Your loyalty and support are greatly appreciated," Henrietta reassures, smiling. "Please, do not feel obligated to attend for my sake alone. If you must decline, I will understand."
"Not at all, Your Highness. I will gladly attend as soon as I'm able.
Louise raises her head, her smile full and bright.
"Do stand, Louise," Henrietta requests kindly. "You know I dislike lofty formality between us."
Adopting a proper posture, the pinkette does as asked.
A short silence falls over the gathered three, lifted when the Academy's large front gates creak open.
Through them walk a band of royal knights, one of them brandishing the Tristanian standard. At their head stands a young man carrying a glass bottle filled with glowing blue liquid.
"Your Highness, we have returned with the potion as you requested of us," announces the man with the bottle.
The princess nods. "Praise Halkeginia! Come forth and present it to me."
With a respectful "Yes, Your Highness" and a light-hearted bow of the head, the man with the potion picks up his pace and rushes over to the waiting women.
"Good timing," Princess Henrietta remarks graciously. "Now please, present the potion to my dear friend here," the royal instructs, turning a pointed finger toward Louise. "Her familiar is the one in need of the concoction, not I."
The palace knight bows his head and turns toward Louise.
Diligent in his service to the royalty, the knight bends down and proffers the potion into Louise's small, free hand, then bows his head politely once more.
"Here you are, Miss. A healing potion containing crystalized rhyme dragon tears. Our royal apothecary who resides in Lenore assured me it will cure most any ailment within a couple of short days," the young lad explains quietly, rising to his feet.
Taking the potion into her hands tightly, Louise's eyes tremble with feeling.
"Rhyme dragon tears? "P-Princess, this must have cost the crown a fortune...!"
"...It is certainly an unplanned expense I will have to justify to her mother, the Queen, yes," Miranda utters in a low tone from her place beside Henrietta.
"Come now, Miranda. Must you say such gloomy things?" Henrietta questions, as her eyes fall upon Louise once more. "The most important thing here is the wellbeing of Louise's familiar."
With a hesitant chuckle and a faint smile, the aged attendant lowers her head.
"Do forgive me, My Princess. I was merely considering the discussion your mother and I will have once we are safely back in Tristania," she explains, then looks to Louise with a small, yet respectable bow. "Please, Miss Vallière, accept my apologies."
"It's quite alright, Miss Miranda," Louise excuses politely. "I know you take your role as Henrietta's attendant very seriously; you always have."
Miranda simply nods her head and says nothing further.
"Well then, Louise, I think we should be off," decides Henrietta. "The sooner I return to the capital, the better. I have much to report to my mother concerning what has happened this past week. And please, do write to me as soon as Mister Michael is feeling better."
"Rest assured, I will," Louise assures her friend with a nod of her head.
"In that case, farewell, Louise," Henrietta smiles faintly. "Until next we meet."
Louise bows her head respectfully.
"Safe travels, Princess. And again, thank you."
"it was our pleasure," Henrietta replies in kind, with a smile.
Farewells exchanged; Louise watches a royal coachman open the carriage door. Henrietta then climbs aboard and seats herself. Miranda climbs in afterwards and the door is closed for the two.
Several moments pass in silence.
Royal guards board the cart behind Henrietta's and prepare for departure. Once they're all seated, a driver hops up front and gives a nod to the palace trumpeter.
The young man, a red-haired fellow with freckled cheeks who stands standing several yards away from Louise and the carriage, raises his instrument and blows out a loud, crisp blast of music.
Hearing the sound, Henrietta's carriage driver cracks a whip. All four white horses at the front of the carriage rear up, tugging the heavy vehicle down the academy path and toward the open gates.
Henrietta waves politely at Louise from the window of her carriage. Louise lowers her head respectfully.
It is with mixed feelings that she watches the carriage roll through the main gates, a cart full of guardsmen following closely behind.
"Miss Henrietta is a good woman, much like her mother Marianne when she was her age," comments Toby from his place beneath Louise's arm.
Eyes lowering to the potion in her left hand, Louise nods.
Then, a curious question takes her.
"...Just how old a tome are you, Toby?"
"Old enough to have supported many Guardians. I am to them what my good friend Derfflinger is to those blessed with the Gandálfr rune."
Louise raises a confused brow.
"...Does this have something to do with what we spoke of earlier, in my room?"
"Yes, the summoning ritual," Toby answers. "Speaking plainly for you, Miss Louise, a mage like yourself will summon one of two particular types of familiar. One is the Gandálfr, and the other is the vǫrðr, also known as a Guardian. One is a legendary familiar of swordsmanship, the other, magic."
Genuinely as intrigued as she is confused, Louise repositions herself on the academy's frontmost steps and sits down. There, she carefully places Michael's potion to her left and sits Toby in her lap.
"...This is all too much to take in," the dainty mage groans weakly. "It's as though everyone's speaking in native Germanian..."
"You needn't overthink it, young miss," Toby assures the frazzled girl. "Instead, simply view it like this. Void mages like yourself are granted special familiars, and, this time, you gained a Guardian."
"...' This time'?" Louise repeats, stumped. "How do you mean 'This time'? You say this as though you have seen many void mages summon their familiars," the teen remarks, sitting up straighter and tightening her gaze.
"Why, yes. I have indeed seen many come and go. There are countless worlds the summoning spell draws from. And, who knows... Perhaps there are even more worlds just like this one. The power of magic is indeed boundless," Toby proclaims in a low, thoughtful tone.
Louise holds out the tome, peering questioningly at the silver clasp on its front.
Her head throbs as she considers these more fantastical matters.
"Does that mean there might be another Louise in a different Tristain...?"
"Maybe, young miss. Why, she may have summoned an entirely different familiar to you," Toby theorizes with a flap of his front cover. "A Gandálfr, perchance. A soldier or a merchant. Each of these potential individuals will doubtless be very different to Michael."
Groaning, Louise closes her eyes and sighs exhaustedly.
"Can we please go inside and check on the idiot? My ears are ringing just thinking about all of this..."
"But of course," Toby agrees. "The sooner he's up and about, the better it is for both of you."
The pink-haired girl nods.
"Agreed. Let's go, Toby."
...
Louise steps inside the infirmary.
The overwhelming scents of potions and tonics flood her nostrils, causing her nose to scrunch.
Adjusting to the smell after a couple of moments, the mage shifts her gaze to the room's two occupied beds. Tabitha and Michael still lay motionless within them.
The pinkette frowns and sighs lightly, her eyes flitting down to the potion in her left hand.
"...I hope this works."
That said, Louise reaches the foot of her friend's bedside.
Lowering the covers, she retrieves his wrist and places a thumb against it.
The same as when he was admitted, his pulse is present but very faint.
"Miss Louise," Toby speaks up from his place under the girl's right arm. "I feel a rather strange sensation. It emanates both from Michael and the girl in the bed beside him."
Brow raised questioningly; Louise lifts her eyes from Michael's bandaged hand.
"What kind of sensation?"
"...As though the two are joined as one. Linked in both heart and mind," Toby specifies with a click of his front clasp. "I had not sensed it before. Now, however, being as close as I am to the two, I feel it as clearly as day."
Louise stares between the sleeping pair in utter confusion a good few times.
"Linked how, Toby?"
"If I had to give it a name, I'd call it pact. It almost... feels like the two are dreaming the same dream. Something which, I should note, feels completely surreal. Both of their energies course through my pages. Yes, this girl's magic invigorates me as much as Michael's."
Even more confused, Louise groans.
"Is such a thing even possible...?"
"Through high-level spells and incantations, yes. Unfortunately, we've no way of knowing how this came to be unless one of them awakens. We cannot quiz the sleeping."
Placing Toby down at the foot of Michael's bed, Louise takes the potion bottle into both hands.
"Then it's about time you woke up, idiot," Louise whispers to the blonde, frowning. "Because if you don't... I may go mad with worry."
Draining off the blue liquid into the glass resting nearby, Louise drops the empty bottle to the side and swallows the anxious lump forming in her throat.
"...Oh please work...!"
Sliding a thumb beneath the lips of her sleeping companion, Louise parts his mouth.
Removing the glass from its place and tipping her familiar forward, Louise tilts Michael's head up with her other hand, then carefully drips the glistening solution down into his mouth.
Bit by bit it makes its way down Michael's throat. Once finished, Louise releases his head.
"Now all we can do is wait..."
Exhaling her nervy emotions, the pinkette leans in and presses her lips to Michael's cheek.
For luck. For comfort. To feel less alone.
"..."
Hesitating, Louise lets out a soft breath. She then scoots a nearby chair to her familiar's beside and sits down.
Nodding to herself, she takes the pocket watch out from her breast pocket. Holding it in her palm, she opens the face. Seconds tick by slowly and painfully. Each is as though a knife twisting inside of her.
"I'll stay as long as it takes. So, please... Please wake up soon."
Placing the timepiece on Michael's bedside table, beside the empty glass, the dainty mage shuts her eyes and leans back into her chair slightly.
She begins to focus on her breathing.
In her mind, she pictures Michael doing the same.
In... and out.
In... and out.
Second by second... Minute by minute.
Until her body feels heavy.
Heavier. Heavier still.
Until sleep's welcome embrace finally takes her...
To be contined...
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