Author's Note: Flashback time! These next two chapters have two main purposes: show how Hector was made (of course), and massively flesh Rita out as a character. Also, I should probably slap a couple of warnings on this chapter. A small one for some mild spiciness near the start, and a bigger one for Harvey being a Very Big Creep later.

Chapter Two: The Beginning

"Elena?"

There was no response, but he hadn't expected one. Elena was sitting at the kitchen table with a sheet of math problems in front of her. Her face was scrunched up the way it always was when she was concentrating on something: eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, head tilted to the side. She paused, absently brushing the side of her new quill pen against her cheek. Then, she dipped the tip back into her ink bottle and scribbled frantically away at her paper.

Osvald huffed in amusement. "Elena, it's bedtime."

"But I'm almost done, Papa!"

A fond expression crossed his face, and Osvald utterly failed at keeping the sternness out of his voice. "I'll give you some more problems tomorrow if you go to bed now."

Elena gasped as she set her pen down. "Okay! I'm going right now. Come on, Papa, see?"

She hopped out of the chair and grabbed his hand. Then, she darted towards the hallway. Osvald shook his head as he followed her, letting Elena think she was dragging him along behind her. She really was adorable, but where did she get all that energy?

Once they arrived in her room, Elena quickly pulled the ribbons out of her hair and set them on her nightstand. Then, she flung herself under her blankets. Osvald sat down on the edge of her bed, watching as she snuggled into a better position.

Finally, she closed her eyes, yawned, and mumbled, "See? I'm going to sleep, Papa."

Elena did sound tired; she probably hadn't realized just how sleepy she was while focusing on her problems. However, the yawn had been slightly exaggerated. Osvald smiled as he leaned down, absently brushing some of her hair out of her face.

"That you are. Sleep well, Elena."

She let out another sleepy little mumble as she shifted again. Soon, Elena's breathing evened out, and Osvald was convinced she'd fallen asleep. He watched her for a few more seconds before glancing up. Rita was leaning against the doorframe with a fond little smile on her face.

"You really are good with her, dear," she said softly.

Osvald smiled briefly as he stood up. Once they were out in the hall, he replied, "She gets her agreeableness from you, I think."

"Give yourself more credit." Rita raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Elena adores her papa."

"Both of us, you mean. I would kill her favorite rosebush in a heartbeat if I tried to garden like you do."

They were in the living room now, and Osvald sank down onto the couch. Rita perched herself beside him, lips quirking as she tucked some of Osvald's hair behind his ear.

"Fair enough," she acknowledged. "But I think she'd love you even more if we got her that little sister she's been begging for."

Osvald nearly choked. "That…that requires both of us, Rita. And do you have to phrase it like that?"

"You are endearing when you're flustered," Rita replied mildly. "Is it really so bad to be facetious now and then? You could use some levity."

Osvald took a deep breath, trying to sort things through rationally. She had a point, but Osvald was much better at being rational. (He didn't entirely mind the teasing—but the topic at hand required a little seriousness, honestly!)

Well, they had already discussed having a second child. Several times, actually. Both of them were certain they could handle it…and Elena had asked them for a sibling before. All of these things were true.

And…Osvald cleared his throat, prompting a knowing grin from Rita. They hadn't had much time for that lately, but Osvald certainly wasn't averse to it. Especially if it made both of them happy; it was the least he could do for his wife.

Finally, he glanced back over at Rita and said, "I'll see if Clarissa can take Elena this weekend. Is that all right?"

"Yes, dear." Rita leaned over to peck him on the cheek. "It sounds wonderful, actually."

His face reddened beneath his beard. It wasn't helped when they stood up and Rita "accidentally" brushed her hip against him. Gods—despite how gentle she normally was, Rita knew how to tease him.

Then again, Osvald enabled her too much… He was equally to blame, but he decided that was a good thing as they got ready for bed.

Fortunately, Clarissa and Ethan were free that weekend, and Elena was excited for what she viewed as a vacation of sorts.

"Make sure Clarissa gives you interesting homework this time," Osvald instructed her as they arrived. Then, he glanced up at Clarissa and added, "And try to get her in bed by eight, won't you?"

"Listen to your father, ordering me around at my own house," Clarissa teased as Elena grabbed her hand. "But I think I can come up with something exciting for you."

"Can I read those big magic books you have upstairs?" Elena said brightly. "I already tried Papa's. I want something else."

Clarissa chuckled. "Goodness; we'll simply have to compare them, then."

Osvald laughed affectionately as he patted Elena on the head. "If you're a good girl for Clarissa, we can try the magic tomes again. You had a hard time because you read them by yourself; they'll be easier if I help you."

Elena's eyes shone as she nodded eagerly. Clarissa raised an eyebrow and gave Osvald a rather knowing look as she turned to take Elena inside. He glanced aside and cleared his throat, recomposing himself in time to wave goodbye to Elena.

Then he went back home. He tried to help Rita with dinner, and she watched in amusement as he attempted to keep the stove lit with magic. "You are endearing," she mused, "but you can experiment on the goulash we aren't going to eat."

And then, after a mostly incident-free dinner, they were tumbling into bed together. Their lips met again and again, gently at first, then more wildly. Osvald's hands slipped beneath Rita's blouse as hers busied themselves with his trousers—her body was so soft and warm against his own—

Osvald breathed in deeply as he buried his face in Rita's hair. He pressed a kiss into the top of her head as he pulled her flush against him. Rita relaxed against him, nuzzling into his neck and tracing her fingers down his back. Then, she leaned back slightly, brushing her lips against his as she tucked some of his hair aside.

"You know," Osvald mused, still somewhat breathless, "you don't seem to care much about 'being presentable' right now."

"What's one thing you're always saying? 'There are no absolutes in science'?" she teased. "Maybe this can be an exception, too."

She winked as Osvald cleared his throat and glanced away. Rita gently moved her hand up to his cheek, and he looked back down at her. Her eyes were dilated, her face was flushed from pleasure, and her hair was disheveled. Somehow, Rita was even more beautiful like this, and Osvald swallowed before leaning down to kiss her again.

"Perhaps. But we'll have to test it again, just to be sure. You know, for science—"

Rita cut him off with another kiss, snorting incredulously when she pulled back. "You're ridiculous. But I suppose it couldn't hurt, hm? If I prove it to you?"

Osvald certainly didn't complain when she rolled him onto his back and got to work.

The next week passed in something of a blur. Rita knew it was silly to describe the sensation as "walking on air." They were both in their early thirties; they were too old to be breezing around like love-struck teenagers.

And yet she drifted through the next several days in something of a content haze. She fixed breakfast, made sure Osvald ate, and dropped Elena off at school with a perpetual grin on her face. Then, Rita was off to the Apothecary Guild. She'd worked there before having Elena and started taking patients part-time again once Elena was old enough to go to school.

"My, you're getting clumsy, Rita," Doris mused when Rita retrieved the incorrect treatment log for the second time that day. "Get the proper chart for the poor dear, Lyla."

Lyla started working at the guild shortly before Rita had; she knew the regular patients almost as well Doris, the head apothecary, did. She rolled her eyes as she reached for a bound stack of papers on a nearby shelf. Still, there was a hint of fondness in her voice as she spoke.

"A good weekend, I presume?"

"Indeed," Rita replied sheepishly, failing to keep a slight blush off her face. "My apologies, Mary—you're here for the fever, correct?"

Her current patient nodded, and all three of the other women exchanged sly glances. Rita cleared her throat in embarrassment, hoping to get back on topic. Fortunately, she got through the rest of the day with little incident, but her mind kept wandering.

She couldn't help being more affectionate with both Elena and Osvald in the evenings. Elena giggled and gave her quick hugs in return; Osvald watched her with increasing levels of fondness, returning her kisses with slightly-scratchy pecks on the cheek.

(It was hard to scold him about needing a good trim. Rita noticed that he was much more amenable to taking breaks and getting out of his laboratory, which she appreciated anyway. But it felt even more special right now.)

By the end of the week, Elena picked up on the atmosphere in the house. She was a smart girl… It was only a matter of time before she realized something was going on.

"Mama, you and Papa are acting different," she said as they worked on dinner that evening.

"Well, of course." Rita grinned as she stirred the pot of goulash. "We might have a surprise for you very soon."

Elena gasped in excitement. "I knew it! What's the surprise?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise anymore if I told you, would it?" Rita dipped a spoon into the goulash and held it up to Elena's mouth. "Now tell me how it tastes."

Elena sipped at it, and then hummed after swallowing. "Well, I think Papa likes more pepper."

Rita elbowed her lightly. "And what do you like?"

"…Sugar?" she replied, with a falsely-innocent grin.

"You can't put sugar in goulash, you silly girl. Now go wash your hands. Papa should be home soon, and I'll keep an eye on the food."

Elena nodded and hopped off the stool she'd been standing on. Rita watched her dart down the hallway towards the bathroom, shaking her head in amusement. The stove was still warm; the goulash should be hot when Osvald returned. She leaned back over and gave it a quick stir, just to keep it from settling.

Rita paused after setting the ladle down. There had been a faint noise just now… It sounded like something crashing or shattering. Had it been inside or outside the house? It was hard to tell.

"Elena?" she called cautiously.

Maybe Elena had just tripped over something. It might not be a big deal; Elena was quick to recover from minor falls. But, just to be safe…

"Elena, did you hear something?"

Then, she smelled the smoke. It was coming from the spare room in the back of the house.

"Elena!"

She heard a scream that was very distinctly Elena's voice. Rita's head swam, and her hands shook—what was going on? Where was Elena? And why was it so…so…hot?

There was a sudden rushing sound as the flames spread around her. The last thing Rita registered was being grabbed roughly around the middle, and then she saw no more.

Rita's mind was a blur. Sometimes, she thought she heard a familiar voice… But where was she? How long had it been? She had no idea.

Eventually, her mind started to clear. Rita blinked; her head pounded, but her vision slowly focused. She was very stiff, as if she hadn't moved much in several days (at least). As she sat up, she took stock of her surroundings.

She'd been lying on a scratchy old mattress, and she was in a large room with stone walls. The floor was stone as well, and it was covered with faint, unidentifiable stains. She didn't see any windows, but a few flickering torches hung on the walls.

Rita swallowed. Something was wrong here, but—

Soon, her eyes fell on the man standing in the doorway. She recognized Harvey, of course; he often came by to study with Osvald. The way he was watching her now was unnerving, though. He hardly looked like he was concerned about a disoriented acquaintance… He was simply leaning against the frame, staring at her with a kind of lazy amusement.

"…I don't suppose you'd mind telling me where we are?" she said carefully.

Rita cleared her throat; her voice was hoarse. But she'd kept it even enough, and something told her she needed to look (and sound) as calm as possible.

"Oh, we're in Montwise," Harvey replied, still with that eerie level of casualness. "In my laboratory. You should be honored… I rarely let people visit."

"Then what am I doing here?"

"Oh, you have something I need. Something very important."

Harvey sauntered towards her. He leaned down, tilted her head up towards him, and smirked. Rita jerked backwards, and Harvey chuckled.

"Where's Elena?"

"Don't worry; your daughter is safe. She has an important role to play as well." Harvey raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm afraid I can't let her see you…that would ruin the plan. But rest assured she is comfortable and will be taken care of."

Harvey had to realize that wasn't reassuring. Rita knew, on a basic level, she should be relieved Elena was alive (assuming he was telling the truth, of course). But the way he said it, as if they were some kind of tools for a new project he was working on—

What was he going to do with them?

Her heart rate spiked, and Rita couldn't look at Harvey as she stammered, "W-what about Osvald?"

"Oh, Osvald…" Harvey laughed as if she'd just told an especially funny joke. "I expect your husband is on his way to Timberain as we speak. He may have already arrived… His trip was slightly shorter."

He tossed a stack of paper at her. When it landed on the floor nearby, Rita realized it was a newspaper. She cautiously leaned towards it. The date was probably from several days ago, but that thought was pushed out of her mind when the main article caught her attention.

NEW DELSTA TIMES, page 2

FIRE IN CONNING CREEK—ARSONIST APPREHENDED?!

New details emerge on last week's house fire in Conning Creek! The investigation confirmed the only current suspect was responsible for the crime. Osvald V. Vanstein has already been transported to the courthouse in Timberain, and will be tried for the murder of his wife and daughter on

Rita couldn't keep reading. Her hands were trembling too hard. None of this made any sense! They couldn't—

"Y-you can't try him for murder if there wasn't a murder!" she finally choked.

"Oh, Rita…just how stupid do you think I am?" Harvey's smirk widened. "There were two bodies at the scene. Not yours and Elena's, but no one has to know that."

There was a sickened feeling pulsing through her body that no words could properly describe. He'd killed two people just to make the crime scene look more convincing. He was willing to burn a house down and pin the blame on an innocent man. Because—because—she didn't even know why yet—

Would the "why" matter at this point?

Even so, she couldn't help blurting out a strangled, "How could you?"

"Spare me the theatrics, Rita; you know I study the link between blood and magic. And you, Miss Lumina…you and your daughter have something I've wanted for a very long time. So, you see…"

Before she could fully process it, Harvey pulled a small knife out of his pocket. He swiftly reached down, grabbed her hand, and made a shallow cut across her forearm. Rita flinched at the sharp, stinging sensation, and Harvey raised a vial to her arm. After he'd collected several drops of blood, he straightened up and smirked at her.

"And if I can show up Osvald in the process? Well, all the better, I say. Now, do try and get some rest… I'll come back for more later."

He sauntered towards the door, waving as if they'd just had a perfectly normal conversation. At first, Rita was in too much shock to do more than sit there and stare at him. But then—

She scrambled up, reaching the door just as Harvey slammed it shut. Rita heard the doorknob click; it obviously locked from the outside. Still, she instinctively pounded one hand against the rough wood as she tried futilely to turn the knob.

Hot, angry tears slid down her face as she sank down to the filthy floor. What was wrong with this man? Why was he like this? Rita always thought he'd been polite and charming.

But now…

What was going to happen to her, to Elena, and to Osvald?

There wasn't much to do besides sit around and think, and Rita had plenty of time for that.

"Miss Lumina." Rita knew the stories that had been passed down in her family, of course. She'd heard that they were one of several groups that could trace their lineage back to the Flamebringer Himself. And Rita, like most people, believed in the gods. There were plenty of stories about them defending humanity from the Shadow that historians and theologians alike viewed as accurate.

So it had always been nice to think that, yes, there was something special about her. That there was some mystical potential lurking just beneath the surface. Rita had chosen apothecary work, but perhaps there was some deep, powerful magic inside her, too.

But even so…what would Harvey want with her blood? She simply couldn't wrap her head around it.

And when her thoughts swirled too much, Rita got up and paced around the room. What could she do? There had to be some way Rita could help herself.

It was unfortunate she didn't have a hatchet or any other tools on her. The door didn't look too sturdy… It probably wouldn't be hard to smash apart, if needed. But even if she had an appropriate object, Harvey would've taken it away before throwing her in here.

Then, Rita considered spells. She knew a little ice magic; she wasn't quite on Osvald's level, but she could use it when necessary. It came in useful for apothecaries when soothing certain kinds of wounds… There had to be other ways to use it, right?

So Rita muttered a spell under her breath and watched as the icicles erupted from her fingertips. They smashed a small hole in the door, which Rita silently admitted was satisfying. But then her eyes fell on the black metal object just beyond the splintered wood.

Harvey had barred the door after he left. Of course he had. So now, she was back to square one.

There was a sliding panel on one of the walls. Harvey occasionally delivered food and water through it (and, on one horrid occasion, a newspaper detailing Osvald's trial). It was too high for her to easily climb through—and too small, anyway. So Rita was left pacing around the room in frustration, trying and failing to think of anything that would get her out of this situation.

Finally, she sat down on the uncomfortable mattress Harvey had provided her. There was a thought lingering in the back of Rita's head, one she couldn't banish in spite of everything. Her hand lingered on her stomach, and she took a deep breath as she mulled it over.

The journey from Conning Creek to Montwise took around two and a half weeks (give or take for various conditions, of course). She'd probably been here for several days, and she and Osvald had slept together exactly a week before the fire. If she was pregnant, Rita was about four weeks along.

The early signs could be easy to miss, but she would know for sure soon enough. Besides, she'd been stuck in the same clothes for the whole trip… Considering the suspicious lack of stains in certain areas, Rita had missed her last cycle. She was most likely pregnant, then.

It was a strange feeling, and Rita was filled with equal parts hope and dread. She truly had been excited for a second child, and this was the one thing she had to look forward to. But…would Harvey even let her keep the baby? If so, what would he inevitably do with her child?

Rita collapsed onto the mattress and wept, overcome with the sheer unfairness of the situation.

Harvey grumbled under his breath as he nursed his stinging hand. He'd bandaged it up, but he'd have to use it sparingly for a few days. Stupid jackal—he cursed Petrichor for bringing him the beast in the first place.

The experiments were going better, now that she'd scrounged up that special bow. But the jackal had quite literally fought tooth and nail against them, and it bit down hard enough today that it had likely broken a bone or two in his hand. Lajackals weren't even interesting; they didn't have any latent magical power. Harvey was certainly up to the challenge of seeing how it could be modified, but he wouldn't get much information relevant to his usual studies out of it.

At least Petrichor had recently given him a few other monsters she'd captured on Toto'haha. That made up for things somewhat; he could work on a few new chimeras soon. But it would have to wait until his hand healed. Harvey could hardly bleed all over his experiments and have his blood throw things off—

Wait a moment. Harvey narrowed his eyes as he sank down into a chair in his lab. Could human and monster blood be mixed? He had yet to find anything in his long hours of research that said they could. Then again, he hadn't found anything to prove they couldn't, either.

And information on chimeras was so hard to come by… If the damned scholar's guild hadn't outlawed the practice centuries ago, it would be so much easier to get his hands on what he needed. But…Harvey could try, couldn't he?

Still…Harvey rubbed his forehead with his good hand. Where exactly was he going to get a human to use as a test subject, anyway? Rita and Elena had very specific roles he needed them to play, so he couldn't change course with them now…

Besides, with monsters, it was better to combine them as early as possible. Trying to mix features once they were half-grown often resulted in a non-functional mess. He may as well slap badly-made costumes on them at that point, for all the good it did. Harvey had no reason to think it would be any different with humans; in fact, it was probably even more time-sensitive there.

…Harvey was an idiot. He had an adult woman in his captivity at this very moment. An adult woman with Lumina blood, even. The gears whirred in his brain as the realization hit him. Combining monster blood with power like that—perfect! Would the extra parts fuse more easily, or create even more powerful results?

And, if he was lucky, Osvald might have already done Harvey's work for him. He laughed as he stood up and headed down the hall to Rita's chamber. Harvey was a gentleman at heart. He'd ask first; he wouldn't use force unless it was necessary.

Rita had been lying back on the mattress, dully staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out something to do with herself. Being bored was the least of her concerns… In some way, maybe she should be grateful she could still worry about that.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when she heard a dull scraping noise from outside. Rita blinked as she sat up. That couldn't be Harvey, could it? He would've come to that small window instead.

But she was soon proven wrong when Harvey appeared in the doorway. He chuckled when his eyes fell on the small hole she'd pierced in the wood, then perched himself beside her before Rita had time to react.

"I see you aren't completely airheaded," he said, in the kind of voice a parent might use towards a precocious toddler. "Of course, I wouldn't expect Osvald to put up with someone who didn't use her brain every now and then…"

Rita narrowed her eyes. "What do you want, Harvey?"

"Oh, nothing too serious, my dear." He patted her on the arm, and then slipped one hand under her chin. "I was only curious: when was the last time you and Osvald…had relations?"

At first, Rita was too stunned by his audacity to speak. Then, she sputtered, "I hardly see why that's your business."

"It's very much my business, and it's in your best interest to be honest."

Rita's throat went dry, and there was another twisted sensation of horror working its way through her body. She realized exactly how much control Harvey had over her—in far worse ways than she could've imagined. What would he get from forcing himself on her, anyway?

And, with an even deeper sense of dread, she knew her question had been answered. Harvey clearly had something in mind for any children she might bear. What, she didn't know (and she likely never would know), but it was too horrific to even imagine.

"I'm waiting, Rita," Harvey said in a sing-song voice, moving his face closer to hers.

"A-a week before the fire," she blurted out.

He would've noticed sooner or later. She couldn't hide her pregnancy forever. And at least this way—

She squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself for thinking it. But at least this way, she wouldn't have to deal with Harvey having his way with her.

"Thank you, my dear," Harvey purred. He was far too close; his hands cupped her face, and his breath was warm on her ear as he whispered, "Please don't look so despondent. Everything will be much easier if you simply cooperate. Now, then…"

She barely registered the fact that Harvey pulled back and pressed a knife to her arm. The pounding in her brain drowned out the sensation of him collecting more of her blood. When he finally left the room, Rita sank back down to the floor and stared up at the ceiling.

What was going to happen to her?

Author's Note x2: That's right. The entire fic happened because Akala bit Harvey. Good job, Akala.

...Though if you prefer for him to be Ochette's starter Pokémon, owls have claws, too. Mahina could probably rough Harvey up a bit if she needed to. That said, I had to pick one for fic purposes, obviously, so I went with Akala here.