Chapter Eleven
1.
L
The ride back was as adventurous as the ride there, at least I thought so. We met a few more students along the way. I'm counting on you and C to catch them up to speed. I managed to get a few new paintings for the foyer, and no bandits made off with anything or anyone. It was a rather calm ride, all things considering.
How are you? Have you been keeping out of trouble?
If school ever gets too much, there's always a spot in the training program for you. Ask C for any details.
G
P.S. I've attached the last letter you sent C to his letter from me, seeing as it arrived after we departed.
2.
After dispelling the magic, the wall crumbles. Leonie doubles over at the force of Crest Bonds hitting her diverter ward, but it's nothing she hasn't felt before. Taking a look, however, causes a short nosebleed.
Gross, Leonie mouths under Silence. The blood on her dissipates into the air once it's pushed above her barrier, into the diverting stream. The magic in the air is very active, using whatever it can to ignite change. Whatever flow the smaller, thinner stands wanted has made it easier to break most of the protections around. In particular, the wall crumbled with very little intent aimed at it.
It made Leonie cautious before Dispel. After seeing the clumps of colours her mind wouldn't process, she's caught between running away or throwing in a fireball. Her hands are heating up at just the thought. The young woman wipes the sweat from her head and walks forward, readying for a makeshift flashlight.
In the end there is no need. The glow coming from Crest shards is enough to make the cavern sparkle.
Leonie curses, unheard. She'll need to either repair the wall or bring down the cavern, both of which will require earth magic. It's not her magical inclination, but also not her worst magic typing. That would be solids in general.
There is no way she will be touching any of these. No need to risk anything by keeping them. This is not for her.
A mark has been painted onto the wall above each shard gathering's pedestal. Each shard is a murky brown, flecks of other colours coming and going at random. She can feel their weak reaching, like a cold sleeping human searches for warmth. Whatever – whoever – each bundle was, they are kept on the cusp of living by the markings carved into each stone bowl they rest in.
Not every bowl holds something.
She counts nearly a hundred pedestals including those in offshoot paths. Twelve in the main room, with half missing anything in their bowls. Five instead have a marble-like, metal object in each of their inactive bowls. The last empty bowl sits upon a large shrine at the very end of the cavern, a familiar Crest marked on it.
Leonie pulls out a book of crudely sketched Crests and tries to find it. It doesn't take her long.
Crest of Maurice.
Crest of the Beast.
Leonie hums silently and replaces the book for a scrap of cloth. If this is the chamber meant to honor the disgraced elite Dragon, then who were the other Crests?
It really isn't important. Leonie is only vaguely curious about the discovery. It involves a bit more thinking than looting weapon cashes; a fun little mystery that she only has a few hours to sink her teeth into. First, seeing if she can nab the marbles. Leonie lines up to the pedestal showcasing a bronze, dull shade where two disconnected ovals opposite two disconnected rectangles are painted into the wall. The symbol is carved into the marble, facing up. The young woman reaches out a hand and thinks about the air.
Imagines a hand lifting the marble. The magic around her eagerly follows, though it's entirely her magic that pulls it away from its pedestal. Leonie wraps the cloth around it, dropping her magic with a pant and closing her eyes for a moment, headache pounding until it Heals.
That is the worst to happen. No boulders dropping and no arrows flying. No poisonous gas or other trap activates.
Good, Leonie looks at her hand. She can't make heads or tails of what these marble-things are supposed to be, but she can steal them. There is nothing coming from them, and they have no connection to Crests. No threads or magic she can sense from them. No timers.
So why are they here? Leonie wonders as she pulls out a small empty bag from her inventory. It used to hold coins before she switched them to one without sewn patches. In goes the marble, but not before Leonie tries to touch it. Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen even as she stashes the five marbles away. Some weigh differently, all have a different symbol.
Leonie looks around the cavern again, hoping she'll be able to find one more clue to what this whole area is about. She begins sketching the Crests, in case there's something in the Monastery's library to help her.
Unfortunately, it appears like a mystery for another day. In the end, the young woman reforms and respells the wall, no one the wiser.
3.
Leonie hadn't thought twice the first time she handed off three-fourths of her hunt to the hungry children in the village connected to the Monastery's gates. The surrounding forest is bountiful, predators seemingly killed off by the Knights and leaving the prey to multiple quickly. She doesn't need to stalk for long to find something, and the ground is fertile with unpicked, magic infused foliage.
She hadn't thought much of it because she had too much that first time and it hadn't cost her a cent to deliver it to their orphanage. Hadn't thought much the second time it happened, when three children were hanging off her in search for the extra food as she carried a sack of fruits in one hand. Leonie would surprise them with squirrel from her pocket dimension later.
It wasn't shocking she learned all their names. It's a survival instinct, the same way she knows the first names of all ninety-four students currently enrolled in the Officer's Academy, the gaits and faces of the hundred plus knights who constantly patrol the grounds, and the nearly fifty staff and servants who make sure either the Church or the Academy keep running.
Know who belongs, and then realize who doesn't. Learn where to point fingers and exploit the habits or schedules.
The Librarian watches too keenly and travels too often for his hunched, failing body. Why does no one else notice?
Leonie doesn't think what she's doing to cover her extracurriculars makes that big an impact. Not until the third time, where the matron breaks down in tears at the door, begging her to get a certain priest to try and heal a dying boy.
No one notices how she sprints around the village corners, dodging crowds and streets with a hand raised. The knife hovering over her palm shifts with ever mental cast of Point Me: Priest Zacacry. The small chapel is several blocks away, made of wood instead of stone. The doors are open, the people in the pews unable to see or hear her. Leonie pauses at the door to the priest's office, frozen at how the knife points behind her.
She tilts her hand compass down. The knife point follows. Leonie curses, because she cannot walk away from this. There is someone dying, and just maybe there isn't a hidden chamber beneath the chapel. Maybe it's only a cellar. She drops the spell in exchange for building up an area-wide one.
At the release of Dispel, there is a loud crack that raises a few concerned heads. None turn Leonie's way, they're more curious with the smoking corners of the room. The young woman feels her stomach roll with hunger as she eases into the office, no one the wiser.
It all looks harmless enough, if one discounts the pushed aside rug and closed cellar door. Leonie takes a deep breath and spares a little hope that this isn't the plot trying to take her out early. She'll take an expected evil over an early plot point.
The magic in the air all but dissipates the moment she goes underground. It takes Leonie a moment to breathe and adjust to the energy output. By how much the first oomph takes, she's been doing too much for her body to handle without a boost. The idea of storing magic is looking really good now.
She walks forth with only Danger Sense, Silence, Notice-Me-Not, Night Vision, and the diverter ward in place. It is taking more energy that she'd like, even though Notice-Me-Not shouldn't have much of a drain effect with no one around. Judging by the feeling, there is less than fifteen minutes before the first stage of starvation kicks in.
I need more practice, Leonie thinks darkly as the smell of blood permeates the air. Her foot steps in- and she does not look down. Don't think about it. Focus.
When she finds the priest, when she sees, something in her calms. She feels cold, awash in adrenaline at the horror.
Leonie knows she's an inappropriate smiler. She focuses on that as she makes quick work of the fake priest and his torture victim. Covers her mouth with her shirt as the bodies burn, making sure nothing sticks around in the ashes. No stones from either of their bodies, a sudden lack of feeble strands without the victim's blood.
There were two Crests. Silver and pink. A colour like the blanket, and a shade close to Hilda's.
Leonie isn't sick as she returns to the surface, but only because she does not think about it. Instead, focuses on the magic cleaning her before she breaches to the light. There is still a coverup to be had, no matter how much she'd rather burn this place to the ground. She really wants to wash her hands and eat, what with burning more calories than expected. Just a bit more, and it won't be the first time she starved for magic. At least above ground, the magic in the air is abundant.
All the things to do with the priest's side activities are stored away in Leonie's bag. There are a few words and symbols, even a knife, that make her think plot. As she Dispels the enchantments and weak illusions, there is no confirmation one way or another. She can't read the language, has no time to try and read what she can.
One of her simpler skills comes in handy as she magically slides a piece of paper into the middle of the desk. Leonie does not rest or press any of her body parts to it as she steals one of the dead priest's pens. Looking over his letters and writings, she begins to trace a copy of his style. The young woman may not be great at drawing, but copying and tracing have been something she's done with sticks and dirt for years. Her hand doesn't shake and, when Leonie leaves unseen, what remains is an open doorway where a letter rests about the priest running off with a young maiden because of love and all that.
If anyone ever looks, no one will find him or her. It's a cruel fate for the unknown named victim's memory, and Leonie wishes she had the time to come up with something better. There is something under the coldness in her chest, saying she should have done anything to let the world know about what just happened. Even burning down the chapel would have been better.
Maybe he was a serial killer, maybe he wasn't. Maybe the victim had a family, maybe she was an orphan he took before Leonie could learn her name. It's awful, and it hurts that she cannot feel awful about it. Process later, there is someone dying now.
Leonie thinks that, maybe if she felt a bit of sympathy, things would have started going differently. A different plot to the fate of the world. A Main Character coming in blind.
Or maybe fate would have tried to kill her faster. The future is always in flux, it's hard to guess if she'll ever change a thing before her next d-
Don't think about it.
Focus.
There's a person to try and save. After washing her hands and munching down an apple.
4.
He is four years old and gives the biggest smile from his bed when Leonie's introduced. He was one of the few she's seen running around the market, and now there are several places skin hangs off him and dark marks signify old blood stains. The name he was given after being rescued by the Church was Alistair.
Just like with the priest's victim, Leonie can feel the two Crests. These, however, are being smothered under the Crest blanket. Alistair has two Crests inside his body, one trying to suffocate the other.
Leonie doesn't know what to do. Her insides are cold, goosebumps littering her body. The matron leaves them when Leonie requests some tea to share, providing a bag of chamomile so the other woman knows she's trying to relax them all.
It feels like a knife twisting in her stomach when he coughs, blood dripping down his nose again.
There must be something.
It's in his blood. Is it in his essence? While she believes in miracle, Leonie isn't certain her Faith is high enough to produce one. Could radiation work?
Leonie doesn't know.
She refuses to try.
Then all that's left…
Leonie takes a deep breath and meets the boy's curious gaze as she settles next to his bed. "If it is alright with you, Alistair, I would like to try something."
"Will it hurt?"
"No, but you will need to keep your eyes closed. And I have to keep my hands over your eyes to make sure you're not peeking."
"…okay…"
They get into position, his hands coming up to keep her hands in place. Leonie breathes out slowly and blinks.
The world is alight with colours that aren't colours. Even if her brain still hurts to see this, blood beginning to trickle down her own nose again, it isn't as bad as facing off against a barrage of Crest Stone pieces. Alistair is releasing the same silver as the majority of Crest strands encased in Garreg Mach's barrier, but it's choppy. Two of the same Crests cannot bond together, and it is interfering with his other Crest. The minor Crest in his blood is attached to everything, yet the strands not frayed or broken are being strangled by his silver.
The new Crest is killing him as it tries to take over all the bonds. Leonie has no idea how this is so different from Lysithea's, who's Crests are connected to each other and connected to the same Crests of others. Hers are in a balance, even with the extra strain as one Crest is major while the other is minor. It is a large physical tole on a body that never had a Crest to begin with, but not at risk of killing her in moments.
Alistair's major Crest is trying to snap all the bonds to the minor Crest in order to overpower the silver already attached to him from the blanket. The moment it gains control will be the moment past the point of no return.
Leonie needs a word.
Needs a spell.
Something to stop- unravel- maybe remove-
She needs to know what's going on. Needs to know what to do to stop it.
She needs-
-purge? No, the shock could kill him. Untangle? It would just start back up again. A block wouldn't hold. Time, I need time. Unwind? Release? Painless. I said this would be painless-
-to start with what she knows can stall this, even if it's faith and not reason. "Heal."
This will help him, Leonie thinks and focuses. The magic is all around her. Responds to her command with nary a resistance. Removes the pain, heals the too-high fever and slows down the energy consumption. Heal does everything she wants it to do.
The magic does everything she wants to happen.
Leonie blinks, drops her hands as if burnt, warm from will travelling around her. Alistair blinks too, opening and closing his mouth a few times before blanching and asking at the sight of blood under her nose, "Leonie?"
She makes sure to smile, wiping it off on her white sleeve. It does not appear there, not with the magic in the air ripping it to shreds. "How do you feel?"
He moves his fingers, arms, even stands from the bed with a giant smile. "I feel great!"
When the matron comes back, she drops the tea in shock. It does not compare to how stunned Leonie is at what she saw. Faith magic, her weakest skill, undid the trauma and removed the major Crest like it had never been there. Removed it like it was a tumor.
The magic in the air is still waiting for someone to use it. To correct the abominations.
Leonie isn't sure how to feel, so she doesn't respond to that. Assures the matron that she is fine but has no idea how he became to be healed. All they did was say a prayer to the Goddess together. Comforts the crying woman who explains Priest Zacacry normally takes the children away when they're like this, promising to do all he can yet never returns with one.
"Do you know where he is?" the matron begs. "You could tell him what you did, have him help the-"
"I don't know where he is," Leonie acts sympathetic. "I couldn't find him. I'm sorry."
"Well, no matter. We'll have him come by when you are over."
"I don't know what I did! I'm barely competent at Faith magic, or Reason magic for that matter. All I did was pray that Alistair be healed!"
"…Then maybe this was the Goddess' blessing," the matron begins sobbing again. "Oh Goddess, please, please don't abandon your children. Please answer our prayers once more."
Only vaguely uncomfortable, Leonie goes to help the children prepare the food she's given them. Now that she's paying attention, she can feel it in a lot of them. The silver-not-silver Crest that is hammered by the blanket, rejected from all tethers. The oldest orphan is fifteen and does not have it. The oldest with it is eight, and from the sunken cheeks there could be another case of this sickness soon.
Leonie's hoping it isn't truly like a cancer in remission. Hopes that when she sheared and withheld pain – stopping the shock as Alistair's blood vanished, healthy cells doubling, all via magic – it means the sickness is gone for good. This whole event leaves her with so much dread, ice has begun forming on her chest, under her shirt.
Her fingers are crossed that this doesn't get back to her in any way. Makes sure the matron and other staff know it was the Goddess' doing. Sothis isn't around to take the heat, and Leonie's already slipped up a few too many times today.
It's possible her actions will make the kid die slower.
She doesn't even want to think about doing this stunt to Lysithea. The girl finds her cure in several endings, she doesn't need Leonie's half-baked faith to burn it out of her.
Besides, Lysithea wasn't born with a Crest. She has no healthy, empty cells to reproduce with.
Someone else can…
…deal…
..with..
.this.
5.
Leonie-
-calmly leans over the toilet seat-
-processes.
She sweats as her snacks come up. It's all very gross, but nothing's as bad as the pricks all over her skin. The panic in her mind. The knife twisting in her stomach as she feels – can vividly imagine – the agony the victim must have been in before Leonie killed them.
Her. The victim was female.
It's all in her head, the imaginary pain, but the doctor tools were- and the victim was missing-
Leonie retches again.
Very little makes her stomach churn, but viewing unnecessary suffering always ignites horror. Today was a two-for-one of awfulness.
The other children will likely begin dying as well.
Leonie always makes sure to kill quickly. If she can, painless.
She doesn't feel ready to face the real world.
6.
Leonie knocks on the art room door. The few students inside turn and look before dismissing her.
"Leonie!" Ignatz exclaims in his soft-spoken voice. "Did you need something?"
"Would it be alright," her eyes shift over to the part-time student in charge of the club, "if I did some sketching in here?"
They wave her in. Ignatz is shaking, whether from nerves or excitement she has no idea. He pulls out a stool and has a drawing table ready for her by the time Leonie makes to back, "Do you draw often?"
"Not really," she admits, small and soft smile with a nod giving her thanks. "Most of the time my drawings end up armor-ish."
"Armor… ish?"
"Well, it could look like armor if I was any better at drawing."
"Would you mind if I watched you for a while? I do know a few things about sketching, if you want any tips. I under if you don't."
"No, no, I'd love some advice," she begins tracing what will be the body's outline. "You said you like paining, right? How has it been with the Academy's supplies."
"Well, I don't actually get to use any of the good stuff until our year begins… and even then, I have to prove myself before I can use the finer paints…"
"I'm sure you'll be fine," Leonie nods to his canvas with a smirk. "If you ever decide knighthood isn't for you, I'm positive you'd make a fortune painting."
"Well- I- that's not a realistic goal…"
"If it's something you love doing, then pursue with all your heart. Or something like that. At the end of the year, you'll at least have a license to fall back on if painting is what you'd rather do for fun and not profit."
"I…" Ignatz pushes up his glasses. Looks around before leaning in. "I want to become a knight to help my parents."
"If it's a bandit-type risk, you can still pursue art on the road, can't you?"
"Well… It's…" he sighs, "I want to be able to give them connections. If I become a knight for a noble house, I can offer them connections to broader markets. Does that make sense?"
"It does…" Leonie frowns and pulls away from her paper. The body outline is done, but it's too small for anyone to fit in. Unless Marianne is hiding an hourglass figure under her long, thick dresses. "But you can make tons of connections here at the Monastery, can't you? I guess it would give as concrete options as signing up with a fancy noble house, but being a free agent means you piss less people off when not choosing a side, right?"
"I… sometimes? I guess that's one way to look at it," he hums and stands, grabbing a pencil of his own. "Something to think on. Can I make a few suggestions on how to sketch figures?"
"Be my guest."
7.
"Ooo," Leonie relaxes in the doorway, "what's in the boxes?"
Lysithea lowers her book, watching from her top bunk, "Uniforms."
Leonie breaks into a wide smile and attacks the fancy wooden box with fever. She oohs and awes, twisting the fine black material around and watching as the dangles stretch and fall in unobtrusive ways. They are expected to train in these, it looks like a pain to lace on and off every day. No wonder the real Leonie didn't-
-she wore it but-
-wear it all buttoned up. If she didn't have the extra money, she would have had to buy it second-hand. With the money leftover from the sponsorship, they were all able to get the uniforms fitted.
Now that she thinks about it…
…that's not how it was supposed to go, was it?
"You just missed the delivery people," Lysithea says, eye narrowed when Leonie finally looks up. "How was your morning run?"
"Good," Leonie smiles as if she didn't trade gossip with the Gatekeeper. As if the things she planted a few days ago aren't circulating as rumors now. "Apparently there's supposed to be some more students arriving. The commoners and nobles who live around the Monastery areas."
Lysithea makes a face. Pulls her book back up. "I heard from Monica when she dragged Hilda out today. You're lucky you missed that. Even Marianne was asleep."
"Is it bad my first thought was to stand on the overlooking bridge and throw popcorn at them?"
The teen chokes, book slipping. She levels a glare at the young woman, "Yes. That's just- we could get in so much trouble."
"You'd help me?"
Lysithea makes the noise again and firmly turns away.
"…Hey… Have you left this room besides going to eat?"
Telltale silence.
"Lysithea, that's really unhealthy-"
"I know," she snaps, muffled by the wall she's looking at. "I just don't want to go out there, okay?"
Leonie huffs. "Do you at least have some exercise to do in here? You do know your muscles will atrophy if-"
"I know!"
"…How about I teach you some things to do? It would give me peace of mind to know you're not fading away in here."
The book slams shut, a snarl on the girl's face, "If that's what will make you go away, then fine."
Wow, rude. Leonie's not sure what she did to incur this anger, but it's not like she really cares. She'd rather not see her classmates go into the academy weak. That's it. She digs around her side pack for her special notes. "Okay. We'll begin with stretches, and then move on to some stances."
Lysithea blanches when the training sword follows the notes out of the smaller-on-the-outside bag. She's still not used to it, but she's also the only other person who knows about it. Leonie smirks at the childish payback and lays the weapons and notes on her bed. "You can keep the sword until start classes."
"What if it breaks?"
Leonie bites down a snort. There's a durability ward on every weapon she's ever used, "Then how about you'll owe me a spar? It shouldn't break though; all we're doing are some stances and motions. Not like, actually hitting anything."
Lysithea peers at the notes, "Who's Jeralt?"
"Only the greatest mercenary captain I've ever met!"
8.
"Oh, hey, Leonie!"
The young woman plants a foot, pivoting and jogging backwards to ease off the momentum. She jogs back, "What's up, Sir Gatekeeper?"
"This young lady is going to be a new student for the Blue Lions," he tilts his head towards the peach-blonde, soft looking woman that's got dirt marks all over her dress hem. "Would you mind explaining a few things and taking her to Seteth? I am not too sure where the other future classes have been set up."
"Will do, sir!" Leonie gives a salute and smiles as calmly as she can. This is not the first new student she's had to chat or show around, but so far the others come in groups of two or three. Usually with a parent. "Do you need any help carrying things?"
"No," is the soft, patient answer. A tug on the rucksack over one shoulder, "This is all I have."
"Makes it easier for travelling," Leonie nods and begins walking. The slightly taller young woman keeps pace easily, even with the shadows under her eyes telling her sleepless state. "I'm Leonie, by the way. Future Deer student."
"Mercedes," the lady replies, offering no last name as commoners are to do. She walks like a noble, though.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Leonie makes sure to flash a cheeky grin. She is forgetting something but can always look through the journals after. Launches into a speech on what's expected of them, food and assistance, as well as the obstacle course lots of the new students will participate in on the free day.
"Do you want me to wait outside while you get sorted?" Leonie asks just outside Seteth's open door. The man inside rolls his eyes discretely, but she's watching.
"I would appreciate that," Mercedes smile. "Thank you for the assistance and guidance."
"It's a big change for all of us. I'm just paying forward the kindness shown to me."
Mercedes hums, "Thank you nonetheless."
When the door is shut and no one is around, Leonie pulls out her diary of faded memories. Not wanting to risk magic, she painstakingly skims and flicks the page until something catches her eyes.
Mercedes.
Blue Lions.
Brother is the fighting instructor.
Leonie's memorized who he's supposed to be.
Well s-
9.
"Hi, Marianne."
"O-oh," the blue haired teen gasps. "Leonie. Hello."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," the young woman leans on the stall door, watching the supposedly temperamental horse melt under her future classmate's brush. "Just thought I'd drop in. How is it in the equestrian club?"
"It's… nice. This is Dorte. I'm to take care of him until the lessons begin, and then I will be able to ride him."
"That sounds wonderful! He's been good to you, right?"
Marianne hides a smile while Dorte snorts, "Yes, he's been kind."
"Glad to hear," Leonie winks at Dorte when Marianne isn't looking. "Sorry for interrupting. Hey, have you tried the school uniform yet?"
"Yes."
"Those tailors did a really good job. Ah, see you at dinner Marianne. Dorte, don't ask too much out of her."
The horse snorts while Marianne squeaks. Leonie hurries out before the younger girl's mind realizes she just had a full conversation with another human without shrinking or feeling self-loathing. Building confidence comes in little steps, after all. Leonie wants her to have some spine before the new Golden Deer students arrive.
Then, to get rid of the shadows under her eyes before the Main Character appears.
10.
The Gatekeeper trails off, straightening and looking over her shoulder. Leonie glances back as well, her body deceptively loose at the shift.
Here is what she sees:
A woman dressed in all browns.
The wriggling sack the woman drops.
The woman running away.
Here is what she hears: crying.
Leonie curses, moving before the Gatekeeper can. She pulls a knife, grabbing the coarse sack with her free hand, "Hey, hey! Stop moving for a second, I'll get you out!"
The normally silent gatekeeper is reaching them first, saying things like, "Leonie, you don't know what's in there."
Here are two facts:
Leonie does not care about a lot of things.
She also hates unnecessary suffering.
Time doesn't slow down, Leonie moves faster as she slashes a cut the moment the thing in the bag pulls away. Time moves normally as she pockets the knife, two hands appearing from the sack and wrenching it open with a gasp.
Then comes the screaming. The panic. The, "Who are you?! Where am I?!"
"Hey, you're okay," Leonie mutters, hands up in surrender and close to her chest. "You're okay," turns to snap at the gatekeeper and Gatekeeper, "Someone alert the guards. See if that woman can be herded off."
Leonie would have gone herself, but the kid's latched onto her arm and is trying to hide. Screams of, "idiot, useless, you're so stupid Bernie," spilling from her lips. The girl's purple hair is thin and brittle, her skin sunken and gaze looking moments away from passing out. She keeps trying to jerk Leonie over her, until finally the young woman sits and drops the girl in her lap. Holding her like this, it is easy to add to the diverter ward, making a shield between them as the girl's Crest is flaring in her panic. Leonie doesn't dare Silence the girl, but at least this way people will have a harder time focusing on the disruption in front of the Monastery's doors.
"You're okay," Leonie promises the girl. Calm laces her voice, face a forced relax even as a rage builds in her. The air around them is getting warmer. "You're alright. No one will hurt you. You are not stupid. Breathe. You just need to breathe, okay? No one's going to hurt you. You are okay."
If Leonie ever again sees the woman who dropped her here, well… it has been unfortunately hard not being able to kill problems away. It would be nice, human, to be a real comfort to someone who's gone through a trauma. If only she was a better speaker than a killer.
That woman better hope the Church finds her first, because Leonie won't hesitate to murder her.
A/N: Leonie kills a bit, frames a bit, deceives people with their own religion, and then keeps pretending to be a functional member of society. So, a rather normal couple of days for her all things considered.
Thanks for reading! A really big thank you to xenocanaan, guisniperman, IReadNoNonsense, Sukaleska, ShadowWolf223, Math725e, Guest, NeutralWotan, JoshuaFangurl, Lunar Black Blossom, MiserableSOUL660, and TheBrightestOfBlues for reviewing! The support truly means a lot!
More people next chapter (in the background of this chapter: some future students are going stir crazy in carriages). Thank you to everyone who guessed, I really enjoy reading the thoughts and theories!
I am so relieved that Claude's real name was released. The fact I don't have to come up with a name similar to 'Claude' for his eventual POV is one less thing to worry about.
Thanks again for reading. I hope everyone is well. Please take care