Act I| The Abyssal Quarter.


Scene I.|"In the depths, it began, so in the depths, it must end."

— 'There was a time I believed the fables told to us throughout millennia. Of how our lineage rose from the deepest oceans, how we were shaped by the ebb and flow of the waves, and that ours were the eyes of its stillness, reflecting that which gave us life in its purest form. Oh, how wonderfully I played into their lies.'


On winter nights such as this, the only trespasser one could not defend against was the wind.

It alone was allowed to roam freely in their northern lands. It was the frost-biting wind that one must learn to understand for it could become one's best ally or worst enemy. In their lands, it was the one enemy they could not afford to be anything but cautious against. It was the one ally they had learned to work alongside after centuries to keep their foes at bay.

To the north, the winter air could be the foreteller of a peaceful night or a hectic storm.

That particular winter's night, a storm fell upon them.

The wind rustled through dead trees and their bare branches, shaking them to their core. Its howling, so loud and forceful, was indistinguishable from the beasts that roamed the grounds during the night, and its bite was as cold as the snow that blanketed the woods now in the dead of winter. But even amid the howling storm, what kept a young girl frozen in place, her back pressed against the burning bite of dead tree bark, wasn't the dreadful cold.

It was fear.

Colder than even the wind rushing past her, turning her tired body all the colder, her small frame shook out of dread at what monstrosity stood before her. It was difficult to discern much through the storm that blew around them yet the fear it struck in her was there all the same. It froze her against the dead tree, her legs unable to move despite her urge to flee and her hands incapable of anything else except hold what lay in her arms tighter against her body.

The beast took a step towards her, its footfall sinking into the snow and dragging it along as it broke through the storm leaving behind a trail of bright scarlet.

Opal eyes that mirrored the white snow with the faintest tint of blue were trembling as the beast stood a few feet in front of her, its dark silhouette distorted by the billowing wind as it towered over her. It raised a claw towards her, disjointed and deformed, and reached out with twitching appendages. As it did, what appeared to be a grotesque jaw unhinged from its deformed, horned head. From the slit lined with razor-sharp teeth, the gurgling of what could only be a hoarse voice screeched out into the dead of night a single word that instantly froze the blood that coursed through her veins.

A name.

Her name.


|Present day, Paris.|

What a beauty.

Her fingertips pressed against the sketchbook page before spreading the thick layer of pastel crayon across the faint outline of a moon, smearing the page and her fingers a soft blue hue. The drawing was almost complete even when she had only been leisurely waiting around for forty minutes or so. Ease of practice brought speed which was why she could afford to draw while awaiting the arrival of a certain airship.

Perched upon a stranger's balcony, dull opal eyes stared skyward through the large circular frames of her glasses that faintly reflected the moonlight. With a mere glance at her current muse, she returned to her sketchbook as the fingers on her left hand continued to give the vibrancy of life to her portrayal of the blue moon in the night sky above her.

Lost in her craft as she was, the young woman couldn't be bothered by the tugging on her coat by her small primate companion. Fed up by her inattention, it climbed on the railing of the balcony before slapping the page and smearing the color across its entirety. The young woman froze, a tiny gasp escaping her at the transgression. Her blank expression remained even as she finally glanced up at the culprit who'd ruined a rather good drawing.

"A fall from this height will break you."

Her voice maintained a flat tone all across the threat, but the small primate—a mechanical creature resembling a young capuchin monkey—remained undeterred as it smacked the sketchbook one final time and pointed up into the night sky. Following its pointing finger, dull opal eyes stared at La Baleine, the airship she heard would arrive that night in Paris. And on it, her target. Before she could discern much else, though, something exploded up in the airship and broke panes of glass from where shortly after she spotted two vague figures falling.

Are those…people?

Putting her supplies and sketchbook away in her worn leather suitcase, the young girl stood from her perch and climbed onto the roof of the building. The soft breeze blowing across Paris pulled back the hood over her head and let strands of dark brown be taken by that same nighttime air. She brushed it back to clear her view, her eyes never leaving the specks that were falling from the sky like a couple of shooting stars that crash-landed somewhere across the city.

How peculiar. A fall from that height made her wonder if they survived at all. Though a vexing query, it hadn't piqued her interest enough to veer her away from the task at hand. She was there awaiting La Baleine to meet one person and one person only. Tonight was not a night to venture out of the beaten path. Not when she was rather tired, to begin with.

In the end, her mind was made up to ignore what she'd seen and instead head to the airship station. A squeak followed behind her as she climbed down flights of fire escapes to reach the dimly lit streets below to begin the trek there. The pittering feet of the primate chased after her before catching the ends of her coattails to hitch a ride the rest of the way.

Once at the station, it was just a matter of waiting. So she waited as simply another amongst the crowd. At first five minutes, then ten, then twenty. By half an hour the crowd had thinned and her patience with it. Pouting to herself, she muttered under her breath a few choice words. This was beginning to be more trouble than it was worth. Disregarding the fact that her services this time around were pro bono, this tardiness was unforgivable.

She was losing precious sleeping hours, for heaven's sake.

This shouldn't be so tedious. Especially not with how much their description made it sound like they would stick out like a sore thumb.

"Five more minutes," she grumbled as her heeled shoe tapped away at the concrete beneath it. Within the folds of her hood, the small primate soundly napped away, unbothered by the long wait or her mounting annoyance. "Only five more and not a second longer."

"Ophelia, 's that you?"

Pivoting at the sound of her name, Ophelia's dull eyes stared at a rather familiar face approaching her from the other end of the station.

"Dante?" Confused, her head tilted to one side, her companion rising and tilting with hers as it rubbed away at its eyes. It had been a good couple of months since she last saw any hair or hide of the information broker. "What brings you here? Are you on a job right now?"

The dham clicked his tongue distastefully and a grimace came to replace the inquisitive look on his face. "Don't remind me."

"Difficult client?" she asked.

"Tch, damn quack almost got me arrested," he complained. Quack? What was he doing working with a doctor? Before she could continue her questioning, Dante turned back to her with a blasé expression. "Speaking of jobs, are you here to escort someone or here to, y'know…" He made a brief gesture with his thumb across his throat.

"The former," she replied with ease, but at the reminder of her endless wait, the pout returned to her lips. "They've had me waiting here for almost forty minutes now."

"Bummer." If he wanted to be sympathetic, he was doing a poor job at it. "Maybe you missed him. The damn thing was full to the brim with people."

"Doubtful," she quickly interrupted. "There simply is no chance I would miss spotting someone with their descriptors. Honestly, there can't be many dark-skinned young men with white hair and violet eyes out there in the world, let alone arriving in Paris."

Dante stiffened at her words. Opal eyes narrowed at noticing this, and beside her, her mechanical companion narrowed theirs as well, both suspicious by his sudden cease in movement. There were a few things that would cause him to suddenly freeze up like that, though the most likely one was already front and center in her mind.

"Dante?"

"Yeah."

"Was my client one of the ones that fell out of La Baleine when it was hundreds of feet airborne?"

The dhampir took two steps back, not trusting her blasé tone and blank expression, and turned away before mumbling, "P-Perhaps."

Ophelia sighed, the sound so sudden that it had Dante flinching. Without another word, she turned on her heels and began walking. The dhampir chased after her, stumbling between a few words while keeping a safe distance from the brunette.

"Are you going to get him?"

What a good question: was she? Another sigh was let loose as she massaged her temple in the hopes of driving away the incoming headache.

If she had to venture a guess, the place they landed was a good hour or two away on foot. On the one hand, she had already taken the time to wait on the airship, as well, and that had been a drag in and of itself. If she returned now, all this time she spent idly by would've been wasted time. Then again, it was getting late. By the time she made it there and back, it would be well into the early morning hours. All the hypothetical back and forth would severely cut into her hours of sleep.

Now that was beyond unforgivable.

Ophelia stopped dead in her tracks so quickly that Dante struggled to stop in time to avoid bumping into her back. Before he had the mind to ask what had her stopping so suddenly, her voice broke the silence with a commanding tone.

"Emile." Beside her, the mechanical capuchin monkey perked up before climbing down her body to sit before her on the asphalt. It waited patiently—its beady black eyes staring into her own—for her command.

"Chercher."

A dim blue color blinked in its beady eyes before they returned to black seconds before Emile sprinted toward the general direction the couple had landed. Behind her, Dante watched over his shoulder as the monkey disappeared into the night. By the time he turned back intent to ask her what she was planning on doing, Ophelia had already left him behind by quite a distance.

"Hey," he called out as he sprinted to catch up. "Are you sure about leaving it to the fleabag? Weren't you told to take him to the Galerie directly?"

"I was told to escort 'a dark-skinned young man with white hair and violet eyes back from the airship station'," she said, reciting the task word for word. "Those were my exact instructions. I saw no such man at the station despite the time I waited, so as far as I'm concerned, the task was forfeit. If anything, I am going above and beyond by doing even this much."

"Man, I still can't tell whether you're a stickler for rules or just a total slacker," Dante muttered before saying out loud, "He's going to be pissed when he notices you arrived empty-handed."

Let him.

She could deal with Orlok losing his gasket, but she simply refused to have her precious hours of sleep wasted with this useless back and forth.


|The next morning, Galerie Valentine.|

"ONE JOB! YOU HAD ONE JOB AND YOU FAILED IT! HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FAIL SUCH A SIMPLE TASK!"

Though she didn't appreciate the shouting so early in the morning, Ophelia knew better than to stop Orlok. So instead of attempting a fool's errand, she sipped away at her tea safely from where she sat across the parlor. A few choice pastries were displayed neatly on a platter that remained untouched. She simply thought it incredulous to offer sweets at this ungodly hour of the morning and all of them surely sickeningly sweet, no doubt. Raising her cup of tea again, her dull opal gaze fell across from where she sat to the two who served the count. Neither strayed their eyes from her, disdain etched in both.

Surely their idea of a joke.

Whatever. At least the Earl Grey was decent.

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"

Ophelia lowered her cup as she finished her tea onto the saucer before saying, "I'm certain all of the gallery heard you, Your Excellency."

Count Orlok blew up into another tirade which would certainly let her have another cup in one-sided peace if anything. Unfazed, Ophelia reached out to the teapot left behind meaning to serve herself that coveted cup of tea when suddenly a set of sharp nails stabbed at the long table she sat before, blocking the teapot from her hand. Opal eyes followed the nails up to the arm of the maid, Nox, as she glared down at Ophelia from the blatant show of disrespect.

"How dare you show such discourtesy," she spat.

So quick to anger. She sighed inwardly but didn't let her annoyance show when she replied. "I merely stated a fact."

"The fact you dare retort the Master's reply is preposterous," the butler, Manet, said with just as much venom. "You're lucky you're able to sit here so leisurely. In any other circumstance, you would've been beaten for your insolence and disobedience. Even killed."

So that's what's bugging them so much.

"You say so because of my patron?"

Nails dug into the table even further. Already threatening glares darkened.

Ophelia supposed as much.

This time she didn't bother hiding her tired sigh. Reaching around Nox's hand, she grabbed the teapot and poured herself another steaming cup of tea before adding milk and stirring. She didn't bother acknowledging their unspoken answer. There wasn't a point in doing so other than to bring unnecessary trouble. Besides, to have them bicker at her wasn't why she was there in the first place.

And she wasn't the only one to remember that.

"Nox. Manet." Both turned to their master at his call. "Retrieve the belongings of those two."

"Master?" Nox asked.

"They will arrive before long, and I don't want any more delays than there already have been."

Ophelia listened, her eyes pleasantly closed to enjoy her tea as the three conversed, and didn't even open them back up when she heard the telltale click of the doors close behind the two vampires. Silence lingered for only a second before Orlok broke it.

"What do you have to say in your defense?"

Taking one long breath to take in the last of her cup, opal eyes turned to Orlok as she placed the piece of porcelain back down. "Nothing you won't deem an idiotic response, for one."

"I am not jesting."

"Neither am I."

His fist slammed against the dark mahogany desk he sat before. She remained unfazed.

"You were specifically tasked to escort—"

Dissatisfied with the redundancy of their argument, Ophelia interrupted him with a slight raising of her voice. "Pray tell, how was I to escort someone who never showed up?" Once that question laid enough space for her to speak, she continued more leveled than a second ago. "The situation went awry and I took the necessary steps to see it straightened. To be frank, it was out of my hands the moment he decided to throw himself out of the airship."

The clicking of the doors opening sounded again but she didn't veer her gaze away from the count. Only when someone brushed against her leg did she turn down, perplexed. The soft meow of a fluffy white cat lingered as the animal rubbed against her before jumping onto the sofa where she sat and walking onto her lap. Ophelia brushed the back of her hand against its forehead and when it simply pressed itself against her while purring a chuckle escaped her. The sound caught the cat's attention then, its blue and purple eyes staring right through her glasses and into her own.

How peculiar. She wished she'd brought her sketchbook along if only to sketch his pretty little silhouette.

Calmer now thanks to the feline's presence, Ophelia continued the conversation they had left unfinished despite the return of his fellow kin.

"Whatever the case, I have not left my client unattended," The cat purred as Ophelia now openly petted his head. "Rest assured I'll have them here by the end of day, your excellency."

"You best make certain of that. The one who left him to you is one best not trifled with."

Dull opal blue eyes narrowed at the implication. The cat on her lap stared back with that strangely hypnotic set of bicolored eyes.

Agreed.

Meowing, the cat jumped off of her lap and sauntered off as she stood, bending over briefly to place the china on the table and rising once more. The hint of a smile returned to her lips as she tilted her head and delivered her query, "With all that being said, would you care for a cup of tea?"

Nox and Money sprung up like felines themselves taking her every word as some show of disrespect. Count Orlok, on the other hand, saw it for what it was, a meager peace offering. One he disregarded by simply turning to the side and busying himself with some paperwork. Ophelia didn't bother feeling offended by the treatment and instead walked over to him without a sound from either the platter or her heels and placed the untouched pastries on his desk.

"Then do enjoy the desserts your staff so kindly offered. I'm not particularly fond of them but it would be a waste to toss them. In the meanwhile, I'll make myself scarce for the time being to prepare some more tea if you don't mind." His two servants snarled at her, but her attention was completely on the man who had all the power in the room at the moment. Count Orlok didn't bother with a verbal reply and only motioned her away.

Ophelia dismissed herself with a quiet 'thank you' and a curtsy before heading out through the side door of the office. None bothered offering to guide her there, not like she needed them, though. She may have only been there two times before but her side job had driven the habit to always arrive well-versed to any place she intended to visit. Count Orlok's domain at the Gallerie Valentine was no different.

The kitchen was a short walk from his office and seeing everything already laid out from previous use, she went about preparing a simple pot of Darjeeling for a change. As she waited for the water to boil, Ophelia lowered her glasses from the bridge of her nose with one hand and massaged it with the other as a reluctant sigh finally escaped her.

The fact that etiquette was second nature to her didn't make it any less tiresome. And though it would be fine were it just the Count she had to contend with, those two that stuck to him like gum on shoes didn't make it any easier. If they had it they're way, her head would already be rolling for merely glancing at their master, after all. They took anything she did as an offense whether or not it was and that got aggravating real quick. Were it not somewhat entertaining as well, she would have lost her composure long ago and the good fight would've started.

But then again, they wouldn't have been capable of laying a finger on her. Not with the good couple heads that they have on those shoulders, anyway.

Because if they touched me, they'd have him to answer to.

The kettle whistled angrily. Ophelia gently took it and poured the hot water into the teapot where the Darjeeling leaves already were and allowed the tea time to steep as her mind wandered to that tiny yet rather important detail.

Two days ago when she arrived at Galerie Valentine had been what one would call a circus. Nox and Manet were reluctant to allow her an audience with the Count. But she disregarded their tantrum just as she had before and gave the name that would allow her passage.

The utterance of the Shapeless One's name was enough for them to open their doors. Once she met face to face with Count Orlok who had received word from the infamous vampire himself it became obvious that she was no ordinary person if the Shapeless One asked for her to be harbored at Galerie Valentine while on an assignment on his behalf.

They believed it a forgery at first, a sham for some shoddy purpose, but the fact that it came along with word of their other guest-to-be, it became less easy to disregard as such. They accepted it in the end, begrudgingly so, but so long as they did, Ophelia would have no qualms with them.

Tea ready, she went about setting a new set of cups and saucers along with the newly made tea before heading back to the office. For now, she would enjoy the Count's forced patronage along with all the teas that were involved while she went about doing her job. The thought of having to find said client was already leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, though.

Good thing I sent Emile to scout ahead.

Otherwise finding the proverbial needle in the haystack that is Paris would have been a true test of patience for her.

Mindlessly, her hand came to the door that led back to Count Orlok's office, turned the knob, and pushed the door—

Only to have the entirety of his sizable desk hit the bookshelves right beside her and spook the living daylights out of her. An uncharacteristically high yelp escaped her at the moment of impact as the resounding hit made the mahogany desk crack from the sheer force of it. Ophelia grasped at her chest to keep her thundering heart from escaping, the tray with her freshly brewed tea forgotten after having fallen unceremoniously from her grasp and breaking all the porcelain on it.

"How about this?"

Calmed down at least enough to hear the voice that spoke, dull opal eyes turned up to said person—the one who'd kicked Orlok's desk so forcefully towards her direction—and widened at seeing him. A young man with white hair and violet eyes—the same features described in the letter from him.

"You will know him when you see him. Mon chaton is certainly hard to miss."

His assignment; her new charge.

Her eyes veered briefly to the mess on the ground and her shoulders fell slightly. This one would be tough if that was anything to go by.

Mon Dieu, give me patience.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Ophelia quietly crouched down before the mess of jagged porcelain pieces to carefully pick them up on the forgotten platter, meanwhile having an ear open on the conversation that continued in the foreground. What she quickly gathered was that they were speaking about some curse-bearer that had been killing young women. The one that had been calling attention to himself these past couple of months who had claimed nine already and showed no signs of stopping.

The young man—her new charge—was arguing something with the Count, about proving one thing or another. The mention of the name 'Vanitas' piqued her interest. She seldom heard their kind speak the name so casually and without a tinge of fear or disdain or both tainting their voice. What caught her interest the most, however, was the mention of a certain grimoire.

Ophelia gandered a peek over the rim of her round glasses only to be met by a gaze of vibrant azure. She hadn't placed the least bit of attention on the black-haired boy that had been accompanying her charge, but did so upon his sudden inspection. He seemed young; black long hair, eccentric wardrobe, and that piercing gaze that fixated on her with a slight narrowing. And to her surprise, clutching to the black coattails of his was Emile holding on for dear life.

"Very well." She briefly turned to Count Orlok, his voice reminding her of the bigger picture unfolding before her. "We shall wait but one day."

Ophelia hadn't the slightest clue what had brought this tense atmosphere about but from the way her charge said 'I thank you' as a response to Orlok's words, finding out wouldn't be pretty. So she didn't ask. Instead, she finished cleaning the mess of broken porcelain as the two of them left the office, her little mechanical companion in tow despite how much the blue-eyed boy tried to kick him off. Once done, she set it on the now vacant desk that Nox and Manet had put back into place as they went about tidying the place.

Beside her, Orlok took a drawn-out breath as he sat down. For once, the siblings ignored her, placing first the need to return the office to a cleaner state after it had been so unceremoniously trashed.

"Feisty one, isn't he?" As expected, Nox and Manet both shot a glare her way the instant the words left her but didn't halt their cleaning. The Count only sighed deeper. Almost as if he were all out of energy for dealing with her after what happened. All the same, she continued. "He's the one he mentioned in his letter, I presume."

To his credit, Orlok gave a hum of affirmation. "Noé Archiviste is his name."

She tucked the information away in the back of her mind. All she needed to know was a face so she would know who to look after.

"There was that lad with him too, Vanittas…" she said, letting the name sit over the already heavy atmosphere. "What were they going on about the Nine-Fold Murderer for?"

At that, Orlok clicked his tongue in obvious resentment. "Nothing but rubbish. Whatever they claim that wretched book can do is nothing but poppycock."

There wasn't an opinion for her to have of it. Ophelia knew the many stories about the Book of Vanitas, if only through idle prattle and the rumor mill she sometimes heard their kind have, and took them all with a grain of salt. But the superstition or curiosity Count Orlok had was strong enough to send his little minions after the two to witness whatever happened. With everybody else gone, Ophelia supposed it was her turn to turn tail and leave as well.

She'd been set on leaving without a word since she highly doubted such a proud vampire would want a word from her were it not necessary, but just as she was about to cross the threshold of the open door, his voice boomed through the emptiness.

"I'm unaware why he sent you, however, I will say this only once." Her heels stopped just at the threshold but she refused to face him. "You may have his protection as of now, but I remain Her Majesty's agent on this side of the border where our matters are concerned. If you step out of line so much as once, know that I will have you executed."

Ophelia took one deep breath before turning about and bowing, keeping her head down as she said, "Duly noted, Your Excellency. Now if you will excuse me." Standing back up straight, she gave him a practiced smile before leaving.

It was a little easier to relax once completely outside of Galerie Valentine and out of their sight. Dealing with people was taxing on its own, but dealing with vampires always tended to be an even more difficult even her daily ten hours of sleep sounded like enough rest to get all the stress of these past couple of days over with. Regrettably, she'd have to deal with them for a while this time around.

After all, Ophelia never left her debts unpaid and this one had been a long time coming.

"Now then, let's see…where are you?" she said under her breath as she picked out a small brass compass from her breast pocket. The red-painted arrow that was supposed to point north disregards the direction completely and instead rotated around at random before settling on a direction to the southeast.

Clasping it shut, she placed it back and began to chase after Emile and her new charge.


It came to be the early evening by the time Ophelia got remotely close to where the compass had guided her. These parts were the backyard of poorer neighborhoods and although she knew them fairly well, she was beginning to think that perhaps that fleabag had gotten lost chasing after them.

"Good grief, Emile," she spoke under her breath, somewhat labored from the long run there, as she took another gander at the compass and watched peeved at the arrow that had been pointing straight ahead just a second ago now going around in circles.

This little—

Just then a flurry of magenta flames rose into the sky behind her, illuminating the streets before her. Caught off guard, Ophelia jumped but didn't dare move, not even to look at the fire that had risen into the sky, and waited until its light was gone to breathe again. That couldn't possibly be a good sign. The click of the arrow stopping had her closing her eyes in dreadful anticipation because, knowing her luck, it would be just what she thought it'd be.

Please don't, please don't, please don't—

It pointed directly towards the direction of flames.

"Merde…"

Ophelia couldn't keep the particular curse from escaping her lips as she snapped the compass closed and pivoted around to head towards the flames. Suddenly though, what had been dark streets weren't so dark anymore. Stopping in her tracks, she stood amid a scene familiar yet at the same time strange still. A mist spread across the alley she was in covering the darkness in gray. The slight change in humidity fogged her glasses and had her lowering them down with a defeated sigh, eyes closed as she did so. Once off, however, she opened her dull opal eyes to something that she hadn't seen for a while now.

A faint silhouette lingered in the mist ahead of her. Its features were hidden behind the gray and were it not for the way it clearly appeared to be a dress they were wearing Ophelia wouldn't have been able to distinguish it as female.

Yet there it was—again—after God knew how many years now.

"What do you want?"

Her voice was just strong enough to be a demand. It remained silent. Ophelia sighed. She didn't know what she'd been hoping for. Not once had that thing spoken to her in all the times she had seen it. She doubted it could even speak in the first place but that never stopped her from asking anyway. This time, the figure remained still before sliding off towards the next alley but not completely disappearing from sight, briefly turning back towards her before continuing.

Almost as if…

Ophelia followed with a frown, her footsteps quiet as the mist spread and the figure continued its trek making sure once every few steps that she was behind her. Ophelia hadn't intended to follow but since it was already going in the same direction the compass had pointed towards she wasn't one to deny it. Besides, it was odd to see this figure on this side of the border for once so it piqued her interest to figure out where exactly they were headed.

It only took her a few streets over before stopping altogether and vanishing into the mist as it dissipated into the atmosphere. She scanned the darkened streets briefly searching for what it wanted to show her but sighed at seeing nothing around. What a useless goose chase. Here she thought that this would be another bad omen like it always was. She supposed tonight was just a fluke.

Must've been restless after not having appeared for so long.

A soft step crushing a bit of asphalt. Anybody else who heard it would have thought it was some stray animal, a rat perhaps scurrying away after the ruckus the fire caused. Ophelia however could recognize footsteps when she heard them, especially this small. Turning sideways towards the open street to her right was where her dull opal gaze met the trembling green eyes of a young boy. Her head tilted slightly to the side, confused. What in heaven's name was a child doing around these parts of town after that little pyrotechnics show?

Bending one knee, Ophelia came closer to the child as she spoke with a tinge of worry in her voice. "You shouldn't be here. Are you alright? Is your house around here?" Sparing a glance around, she supposed that last statement couldn't be true since most factories were harbored around here. Still, it could be he was just lost on his way back or something. Turning back to him, she offered him her open hand and a small smile. "Here, I'll help you get back home."

"I—"

"Caw!"

Ophelia froze, her shoulders tensing at the sound of a nearby crow. Veering her gaze to the ground, she clicked her tongue in disgust as she stood back up and turned towards the bird, finding it perched on a staircase's railing a few feet above.

Really? That was too much?

But she wasn't one to argue when another crow flew by and perched right beside the first. Their heads twitched to the sides as their beady eyes watched her. Just as she was about to get it together, however, the sound of running rushed behind her and had her turning towards the boy that ran past her.

"Wait!"

She reached out but was too late to grab him, the tail of his coat barely slipping through her fingers. Her foot fell forward intent on chasing after him, but the flapping of wings stopped her briefly. This time she didn't turn to look at them and instead hurried after the boy all the while trying to calm her racing mind.

Breathe. Collect yourself. Empty your head.

With each step, a hurried breath escaped her but even labored it did its task. Her mind emptied, her emotions alongside it, and in the distance, she heard them fly away. Good. She didn't need that particular problem added to the list at the moment. Ophelia turned a corner and caught sight of the boy at the end of the alleyway that led out into an open area.

The name Jeanne escaped him in a worried shout before an explosion drowned it. Reaching him just as half the wall across from them burst out, Ophelia snatched the boy's shoulders bringing him closer to her and as far away from the bursting wall that broke out not far from them. Just as the ruckus seemed to quiet down, the boy acted up and tried to get out of her grasp. Fighting back but failing to get him to calm down, Ophelia finally snapped and turned, shaking the boy hard to get his attention as she shouted at his face.

"Stop! It's dangerous out there! Do you want to get killed?"

"I'm not letting Jeanne fight by herself!"

Crimson eyes. That burst of emotion that had him screaming back at her also made that color take over what had been his pretty green irises as he bared his fangs at her in defiance.

A vampire?

The thought was flitting in her mind before another attack happened behind her, one that flashed a bright incandescent light outwards. Not knowing what kind of attack it was, Ophelia simply crouched over the boy and held him tight to shield him as much as possible from whatever was happening out in the open. The boy fought hard though and pushed away from her grasp running in the opposite direction and turning a corner. Was he meaning to go around her to get to them? Tsk, this was what she got for trying to help. Fine, let him be. Knowing he was a vampire made it a tab bit easier on her conscience since the kid would probably be able to hold himself if he got into any trouble.

Just as she turned to exit the alleyway, however, the sight of an azure array of light burst forward from the boy and his book—from Vanitas as he wielded the infamous book. He wielded it against the Nine-Fold Murderer performing an act that Ophelia had never set eyes upon. Something unheard of.

He cured the curse and freed the vampire's true name.

As the bright light died out, Ophelia staggered back as her vision blurred slightly. The mist was creeping in through corners again as her vision jumped from clear to blurred. The light…something about the light must've harmed them.

But that's impossible, my—

The thought was gone the instant her hand shot upward to grasp at her neckline where her glasses were hanging from. Where she had left them when the mist first set in.

"You…"

Her gaze snapped upward at hearing Vanitas' voice barely over the last tendrils of his operation but only for the briefest of moments. She knew that it had been a mistake even to look when his eyes met hers. Instantly, Ophelia turned away, pressing herself against the wall and putting pressure against her eyes as she breathed. What was happening around her was inconsequential at the moment. What mattered now was to get herself under control. Her vision cleared after a few blinks and she replaced her glasses quickly thereafter, not allowing the mist to settle any further and letting it disappear completely before returning to the scene.

Something must've happened because there he was, that green-eyed boy again, and this time he had sent a flurry of golden flames out in a rush towards Vanitas and the girl she presumed he had called Jeanne before. The attack itself made them space out and gave the girl enough of it to leap out and carry the boy out of the alley and up into the buildings above.

"We must fall back this day. But remember this, I will kill you when we next meet! I will be back and I will kill you!" she proclaimed with a heated expression of rage and disdain in her red eyes. Another vampire.

Ophelia didn't recognize her either. Her eyes stung a little.

"You'll come to see me again? I can hardly wait!" The sultry sound of Vanitas' voice was making her stomach turn from how overly superfluous it was. And it seemed to be doing the same for the two high above them as the boy raged on before she took them away at last.

That's it then. Finally able to take a small breather, Ophelia let herself relax as Vanitas' laughter rose through the rubble.

"Looks like things are about to get interesting, Noé!"

This man…his nonchalance was starting to grind her gears.

"And I'm especially dying to know just what the devil you are!"

That particular sentence had her turning her head to the side meeting his once more as a rather self-serving grin formed on his lips. A sneer threatened to fall upon hers at the sight of it. Ophelia hadn't wished to humor him, but the moment her charge asked what he was talking about there wasn't much of a choice.

Making them audible, her heels clicked loudly enough as she stepped out of the darkness of the alleyway to meet that purple gaze of her charge as his brow knitted together in slight confusion.

"You're…who are you?"

Her brow rose, slightly incredulous. She knew there had been quite the ruckus when they'd been in Count Orlok's office, but she hoped that he had at least taken notice of her. Beside him, Vanitas chuckled as he stood, brushing the dust off of himself as he turned towards her.

"This woman was there when we stopped by Orlok's today." Noé gave a simple 'oh' to the explanation Vanitas gave and he seldom took his eyes off of her as he continued rummaging underneath his coat for something. "I had presumed she was another of his lackeys until I saw this thing reacting to a homing astermite."

Vanitas tossed a heap of metal as he said that and Ophelia watched as a paralyzed Emile hit the floor not far from her feet, the crackle of the astermite being overloaded making his whole body twitch uncontrollably.

"Oh bother," she muttered as she reached down to pick Emile up. Turning it over for a quick inspection had her sighing in defeat. "It is not nice to break other people's possessions."

"Wait, that automaton you shocked because it was clinging to you earlier was hers?" Noé pointed out rather blatantly. Turning towards her, he brought Vanitas' head down with a complaint, bowing his head himself as he said, "Our deepest apologies, mademoiselle!"

Dull opal eyes blinked a couple of times before a delicate giggle escaped her. "Thank you. Worry not, though, Emile isn't so easily broken."

"That is not what matters here!" Vanitas shouted and shoved Noé away so he could stand straight. "Can you think with that bumpkin head of yours for one second!? That thing is made with homing astermite and has been attached to us since we fell from La Belaine!"

Again, Noé seemed to understand what he was implying with another simple 'oh'. Not wanting to be subjected any longer to his bickering, Ophelia gave them a simplified courtesy as she cradled Emile against her bosom with one hand.

"I am Ophelia." She straightened after the brief introduction, her eyes landing on Vanitas before going to Noé as she made herself known to both. Giving a curt nod, she picked a letter from one of her pockets and gave it to him. "I came here under orders to watch over you, Monsieur Noé. By the one that refers to you as mon chaton."

"My teacher sent you to watch me?"

"Yes," she simply said. "I was initially supposed to escort you to Galerie Valentine myself once La Belaine landed, however, that plan was veered off track by your particular exit from the airship."

"I don't understand why he would go to such lengths," Noé said.

"I dare say it's because you lose your way every other step you take," Vanitas said with chagrin.

"Whichever the case may be, I am in charge of watching over you for the time being Monsieur Noé as per his order. I shall be in your care."

"Oh, likewise, Mademoiselle Ophelia."

"How absurd, having one vampire guard another," Vanitas guffawed.

As if barely catching up on that now, Noé's brow knitted together. "It does strike me as odd, though. Teacher trained me himself. I don't particularly need protection."

"Do not be mistaken," she stated. "You may be my charge, but I am not to be your bodyguard. He understands you are more than capable of protecting yourself. I would imagine that he only wishes for me to share in my knowledge of a world you are frighteningly underprepared for."

"So you're his bonafide tour guide, wonderful." Her lips parted ready to protest the derogatory summation of her work, but after some thought, Ophelia couldn't quite bring herself to deny something that was practically true.

Not wanting the useless bickering to continue, she turned about to leave and left his subtle jab unanswered. "Monsieur Noé, if you wish to report to Count Orlok what happened tonight then I would suggest doing so with brevity. It is quite late and I presume these are important matters to you."

"Y-Yes! They are," he declared, before bowing his head to her and heading off ahead of them muttering something or another about some Mademoiselle Amelia.

How energetic. It was strangely adorable in a way.

Intending to follow behind him, Ophelia took one false step forward only to be shoved against the nearest wall by a forceful hand. Her arms cradled the immobile Emile closer to her bosom as Vanitas held the edge of his blade flush against her jugular vein, the steel cold against her skin despite not pressing hard enough to draw blood. Those sharp blue eyes glared down at her as he pressed her against the stone.

"Now, little girl, since you are so graciously answering questions, perhaps you should answer the one I posed earlier."

"I did," she simply responded.

"Don't play coy," he sneered, pressing the blade closer against her fair unblemished skin. "I never asked who you were. What I want to know is what in the devil you are?"

Dull eyes blinked a couple of times, staring right into his. "I apologize, but I'm not following."

This time when he pressed his blade against her throat a thin line of scarlet fell. "Last time."

"Do what you will but my answer will remain the same," she replied, her voice turning a bit deeper as her eyes changed to crimson behind her glasses. "I am a vampire sent to watch over Monsieur Noé. Whatever dealings you may have with him are your business alone and I will not interfere. Consider me nothing more than a spectator."

"A vampire…" he repeated, bright blue eyes narrowing on hers.

Something in Ophelia twisted. Something foul that didn't want to be touched. Her expression remained as stoic as before, however.

"Yes, a vampire."

It took him a solid minute before he drew back his dagger. Carefully, Ophelia reached for her handkerchief and pressed it against the wound to stop it from bleeding as the blue-eyed boy sheathed his weapon with a jeer. His disgust was more than palpable as he walked past her, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

"Whatever, just stay out of my way and you'll have no problems with me."

Ophelia didn't acknowledge the crude warning and instead watched him go before letting out another long sigh. Why was it that she always came across such personalities wherever she went? Be it luck or misfortune was up for debate frankly.

It matters not, though.

Despite his rather boorish attitude, she could agree with him on something. So long as he didn't get in the way of her assignment, they would have no problems with one another. She only hoped that would remain so for as long as she was charged with Monsieur Noé.

Her hand took away the handkerchief from the small scratch his blade had made. Dull opal eyes glanced down at the slightly smudged cloth thinking of cleaning it once she returned to her quarters. A step forward once again was stopped this time by her as the cawing of crows reached her ears. Staring over her shoulder was enough to see the same pair from before now perched on a nearby wall.

"You're still here?"

She was sure she'd rid herself of them back there. As a few more perched alongside the first two, however, a heaviness fell into Ophelia's stomach.

Empty your mind.

As she did so, her eyes returned to the smeared handkerchief, turning it in her hand, before nonchalantly dropping it on the ground. Ophelia turned to leave with Emile in her arms, not paying any mind to the cawing that grew louder as the black birds swooped down shredding the piece of cloth to pieces before it even touched the ground.


Her hands mindlessly dried wet tresses of dark hair as she stepped out into one of the many rooms of Hotel Chouchou. It was a blessing in disguise that Count Orlok would house her and Monsieur Noé for free, for her savings anyway.

Hopping to a seat on the bed, Ophelia bounced a few times upon the soft mattress before leaning back on her hands and watching the desk across from her. From the way the room was furnished, her bed rested on the wall next to her door and just across the only window in the room. Right underneath it was a desk where she laid her suitcase and the pieces of Emile that she still needed to fix and beneath him an unfolded letter.

The same one she had received that brought her to the last place she wanted to return.

Ophelia had read the letter almost twenty times over before deciding to abide by it and head to Paris. It had been a difficult decision. Returning here was the last thing she wanted to do. After so many years of wandering—of running—Ophelia knew that Paris wasn't a place where she belonged. Not if she wanted to avoid the worst outcome. And yet, here she was, taking care of some random kid because of a debt she owed to one man. Breathing a deep sigh through her nose, she stood and walked over to her belongings and picked out a small oil lantern, placing it beside the broken automaton.

Within it lay a small piece of astermite that glowed a perpetual soft blue hue and lit what the moonlight didn't, its light reaching the beaded eyes of the small primate. Responding to its other half, the broken parts of the automaton began twisting themselves back into place and before long Emile became whole once more. Astermite eyes shone briefly before it blinked and became active once more, jumping and raging at her almost immediately.

"Oh, stop it," she chided, pushing it back to a seat with one of her fingers. "Had I been aware that book could deactivate you I wouldn't have sent you, and you know that."

Emile didn't believe her by the sound of his shrieking. Not wanting to hear it tonight, Ophelia grabbed him by the nape of his neck to avoid the biting that would come and tossed him into her suitcase before shutting it on him. He'd calm down by morning.

Turning back Ophelia eyed the letter once more and took it in her hand, rereading the part that had convinced her most of partaking in this rather precarious gamble.

'What haunts you may have its answer in the most unexpected of places. Seek the book with mon chaton, observe him, and perhaps you may find the way to finally have your wish granted, ma colombe.'

Ophelia scoffed at the nickname he'd given her all those years ago. Unlatching the lock on the window, she opened it wide letting the night air into her room and took the paper, hovering it over the small flame of the one candle lit on the desk. The letter took to the tiny flame instantly and was devoured in seconds, its ashy remains taken by the breeze she let in.

"My wish granted…" she breathed the words like a prayer as she sat back on the windowsill and leaned back precariously. This was the fifth floor. The fall wouldn't kill her, only hurt far too much. So she let the cold air brush her wet locks instead and let that soothe her mounting headache. "I've given up on that a long time ago, Monsieur."

What she most desired was something unattainable. So she would make do with the second best thing: revenge.


A/N:

Welcome one and all~

After a year's long hiatus, I return by finishing one story only to start right away on the next lol. Frankly, despite not writing all of 2023, this little story and character have been whirling around in my head. It's changed so much from what it started out as and I simply can't wait to share this story with you all, especially since it'll be my first dive into VnC and another of Mochijun's wonderful works. But anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter and that you stay tuned for what's to come next as I start on Ophelia's journey!