Cinia Pacifica Posts

Kazimir woke up. His body felt dull and numb. A waft of medicinal scent danced across the air. He tried to get up and stretch his limbs before giving a yawn, but found out soon enough that both his arms and legs were locked and bound with steel and chains. His clothes replaced with something akin to a hospital gown, and an eerie bot leaking out steam handling some medicine on the right of the lab-like room. To the left were large, human-sized tubes, one full with the maid he met earlier, other with a blonde girl he had never met before, yet her features were somehow familiar of one he knew long ago.

“Guinea pig indeed.” He remarked with a scoff before scanning the room. It was clear he had been out of it for a considerable time and given the circumstances, it was better he wait and regain his strength. It was most likely he'd be facing whoever was responsible soon.

There was a pipe through which a vocal message was sent from a masculine voice.

“Steambot 03, respond.”

“Yes, sir?” a very strange voice was given to the bot.

“This Kazimir is similar to specimen #009 locked in sector E. Apply the Infernal Drug to completely weaken him and then place him into the tubes alongside other specimen.”

“Roger,” the bot noted. “Applying the Infernal Drug…”

Kazimir could now see the steambot concocting something strange by mixing several medicines and chemicals. “Tch.” This wasn’t looking good for him. Struggling in his binds, he realized this was his only opportunity left, “I have no choice then.” He remarked as he focused on his arms, urging the concrete walls to budge.

No good, the walls stood firm and looking back, the machine had prepared whatever drug was waiting for him and advancing. “Shit.” He cursed as he eyed the needle on one of the machine’s appendages. Focusing again, Kazimir willed the walls into submission and at last, success. The machine had almost readied the injection before Kazimir’s binds broke and formed around his arms like a cement club.

Before the machine could react, Kazimir gave a swing at the contraption, throwing it across the room. The machine tried to get back up, but it was clearly damaged, and could not function properly in a timely fashion. Kazimir brought down his modified arm at it one more time for good measure after catching up to it – even though it wasn’t so easy to move around in his current state – when the so-called steam bot ceased to function.

“Damn scrap.” Kazimir belittled, spitting to the side of it as he made his way to the test tubes. Observing them closely, the subjects inside were in a deep sleep. Looking at the familiar maid’s face, Kazimir gave a scowl before turning back in annoyance. “This mission’s costed me more than it’s worth now.” He vented to himself, kicking at the ground.

“I might as well grab whatever information I can on this place. Which means. . .” He looked back at the tubes, the two sleeping subjects unaware of his intent. “How troublesome.” He remarked as he observed the two. The maid, he was familiar with in their last encounter and was definitely not a good idea to carry out should she wake up. On the other hand, the other subject, he had no idea of and all things considered, she could very well be as dangerous if not more so than the maid.

Scratching his head in frustration, he turned his head to the unknown blonde. Whether she was deadly or not, Kazimir was giving her the benefit of the doubt. He aimed at the tube, but not the girl herself. Stones with sharp edges shot out from his concrete arm and shattered the glass encasement apart. Kazimir then grabbed the blonde with said arm before she fell from not being able to stay afloat from the water that dropped along with the shards of glass. The girl laid on his arm with a peaceful and innocent look as she continued to slumber.

Now that he had something on his hands, he looked around for an exit to this bizarre lab. To the north were two pathways, and one in south. He took a look at the one on the south, and he could hardly hear anything, nor could he see what was beyond the tunnel as it seemed to curve midway.

“Tch, out of the pan, into the fryer it seems.” He remarked as he scanned the doors. With a sigh, he turned to the north wall, eyeing the pair of doors before taking the left one. He could feel the wind flowing in this path. Was it some form of air ventilation or air conditioner at work? The entire place was strange, and it was akin to a labyrinth after wandering around for ten minutes. Kazimir found several rooms that led him nowhere, but he did found quite a lot of blood in various rooms. Simply dregs of blood, dry blood, experimentation sites, strange machinations he could make no sense of.

Before he knew it, he found himself descending into the facility instead of ascending to find an exit. It was a confusing place. He couldn’t find any path leading upwards. Did he picked the wrong route?

“...Where am I?” a voice asked, and Kazimir looked to his right hand, over the concrete palm was the blonde girl held, who seemed to have regained her consciousness.
Kazimir clicked his tongue in frustration, looking away from the girl to spare her from his scowl. “Like I would know in this maze.” He remarked, scanning his surroundings for what was the hundredth time.

The maiden looked down at herself and squealed, looking at her own appearance that was completely naked. With a very swift and quick cast of magic, she allowed herself to conjure ice out of thin air to cover her private parts, to form something like a bikini of ice.

“I can’t remember much after going to bed last night,” she pondered to herself, holding her temple, but eventually gave up trying to learn how she got here in the first place. “So… I am Anna Petrovna. You are?”

“Kazimir. Kazimir Pajari.” He replied, “Are you able to walk?” He asked the girl.

“I am.”

“Right then.” He set Anna down on her feet, “So, Anna, you are a mage?”

“Yes, and I assume you’re something else altogether?”

“Something like that.” He answered briefly, Damn, she probably doesn’t know much about the Soviet Union from the looks of it. He vented to himself. “Well other questions for later,” He dismissed, sighing exasperatedly, “We’ll need to leave this place first.”

“Yeah, but it seems like we’re quite deep into the earth,” Anna said. “And I feel something strange down on that way,” she pointed to the path Kazimir was going till she woke up.

“Tch, strange you say.” He remarked, readying his stone fist.

“I don’t know. I cannot feel magic from you, yet there is that strange aura… from your hand, and then whatever is there also has the same vibe.”

“The same as me?” He asked looking down the long corridor, “Which means. . .” Another Time Warrior. Kazimir let out another sigh, “Brilliant.” He let out sarcastically. “Just stay behind me for now, Anna.” He assured her before making his way forward.

The two went to the end of the tunnel. The light was almost too bright for Kazimir. It was a long and large hall. An empty one, at that. There seemed like something reminiscent of a crest at the other end of the room. The crest was in the form of a spartan warrior’s helm, making it look even more odd.

“Hmm,” Kazimir murmured curiously at the change of decor but was wary, “Stick close.” He addressed Anna as he progressed the hall, ever vigilant.

“Now, now,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind. “I wouldn’t go to that if I were you,” he said.

Kazimir turned to find an aged man who donned a white lab coat.

“It’s dangerous.”

“You’re the one in charge here?” Kazimir asked, fairly certain he was the voice on the intercom when he came to.

“Yes, I am Novus. I am in charge of this experimental area, as well as the research labs. I assume you are the bearer of a spirit?”

“Tch,” Kazimir scoffed, “You assume so.” Eyeing the man and his surroundings, he expected someone of his rank to have some security lingering about. “You are working with the Soviets?”

“Well, why else would I be here? Mister Vladimir pays me more than enough.”

“For those experiments?” Kazmir asked, referring to the bloodied rooms he had seen on his way.

“And more,” he added, grinning.

“I see.” Kazimir responded bluntly, backing away from the scientist. “I doubt that you’d be willing to let us leave here.”

“Both of you are valuable test subjects, it’d be a waste to let you two do that.”

“Well I have no incentive for this so I’m going to have to decline.” Kazimir replied, eyeing the area behind him for an exit. The only notable feature was the crest on the wall.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” the scientist repeated.

When Aramus came back to the Manor of the Cavendish Bentincks that day, the Duchess beckoned him for a conversation over tea. There, he learned that his request for an audience with the Queen was granted. Caroline herself seemed pleasantly surprised of the acceptance, as the Queen was thought to be very busy due to the Queen’s Meeting, which was to take place in but several days. The Duchess passed a letter over to Aramus across the table that time, and gave the details of the meeting. The time that was mentioned in the letter made it apparent to Aramus that he wouldn’t have a long time to discuss whatever he wanted to talk about with the Queen, but it’d likely be enough.

The Duchess acted as something like a liaison between Aramus and the Queen, as the Royal Council would immediately decline the poor man for any chance of having an audience, hence why Aramus promptly gave his sincere thanks to the Duchess.

In the following day, he travelled to the Buckingham House.

Having received permission to pass the gates; Aramus was in awe, just like the time he had participated in the past year’s Queen’s Meeting. The palace stretched so far away to both the opposing directions as he approached the entrance to the premises, that he felt rather undermined. He couldn’t imagine living in such a place, and wondered how the Queen managed. The Royalty hardly had many members left at the moment as far as he knew. How the Queen lived in a palace so big was beyond him. The amount of rooms the place held was probably a lot. A lot more than he could imagine. Just from looking at this majestic structure, Aramus concluded that the Duchess’ manor was definitely not on par, but it was large in its own right.

Inside, the interior designs didn’t betray his expectations, and Aramus found himself lost to staring at the marvelous designs of the architecture. Now that he thought about it, last year when he was here for the Queen’s Meeting, he couldn’t indulge the decor like this, as he was too bummed by the disapproving gazes of the nobles. Regardless, he couldn’t dawdle here for long, lest the Queen would stop waiting on him and go on with other activities of the day. She was one of the busiest people in the entire country, after all.

It did not take long before a maidservant beckoned his attention, carrying him out of his reverie. She promptly welcomed him before taking him to a particular room on another floor. It seemed to be the Queen’s room itself. Aramus took a heavy breath, bracing himself. Some would treat this as a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be alone with a member of royalty for some time, privately, at that. It was something beyond special for a commoner. The maidservant gave a nod after he did so, then knocked on the door and informed that Aramus had arrived.

Aramus was a little surprised that there were no guards around this part of the house. Was the security lax? Regardless, the Queen soon beckoned for her guest to come in, and the maidservant opened the door subsequently, leading Aramus inside.

The room itself was spacious. The walls seemed to be so far away from where he stood, that he could not consider it as a bedroom of any kind. There were candles burning over a table surrounded by four chairs, upon which the Queen was located. The fireplace to the right was alight with fire, but other than that he could see the cloudy sky from a window to the far left.

“Good day to you, Sir Valmark,” the Queen greeted, giving a respectable bow as she got up from her chair.

She wasn’t necessarily dressed fancily, but the airs around her made her shine in a way Aramus couldn’t describe. The black dress reflected against the fire as she gave a tender smile. She wore jewelry, namely a necklace, a pair of earrings, and some rings on her fingers. She was famous, for these accessories were in reality the containers of vis. Massive vis amounting up to the size of Queen figure. Which was why most people were afraid of attempting to assassinate her, for the vis made it evident that she could wield strong magic. Even if one were to attack her without her noticing; many claimed that she was protected by some form of protective magic that was powered up by said vis.

“Your Highness,” Aramus began, dropping to a knee immediately. “Thank you very much for this audience.” He kept his view on the carpet as he spoke and would do so until the Queen said otherwise.

“It is my pleasure. The Magisters are, after all, my chosen and favoured magis. Please, raise yourself and speak, for I shall listen,” the Queen replied, taking a seat.

He straightened himself, standing at attention. Anything less would not do. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I apologise for disrupting your schedule but there are a few matters that I find a tad disconcerting and thought it best for you to know.”

“The subject concerning your report would be?”

“The Descendents. Namely, Sagittarius and possible association with other Descendants. During our recent bout, I had the chance to speak directly with her instead of just her host and she offered some insight, though I am not sure if it was by accident.”

The Queen closed her eyes, as if in deep thought before motioning towards the chair opposite to her, beckoning him.

“I suppose Sagittarius possesses a unique ability to inhabit her host’s body? Regardless, come; take a seat.”

Aramus offered his thanks, taking the seat offered to him. He felt extremely awkward sitting here with the Queen, like a fish out of water. “Yes, that seemed to be the case when I fought with her. We, uh, exchanged pleasantries. Fighting without knowing the name of someone such as her didn’t sit quite right with me.” He lowered his head sheepishly, resisting the urge to cover his face because he said something so stupid.

“How chivalrous of you,” the Queen complimented on the contrary to Aramus’ shame. “Much like the knights of eld. Nothing to be ashamed of. Go on.”

“Well, she introduced herself as Artemis. At least, in one of her descents to this plane. That and… she spoke of another one, Odin,” explained Aramus, elated that the Queen had praised him. It almost made him want to fight Sagittarius again to receive more. Almost.

“Artemis and Odin…” The Queen looked down, then back to Aramus. “Interesting. Did she make particular mention about something, regarding either of these mythological figures?”

“For Artemis, she mentioned Atalanta who was apparently her first host. As for Odin, she only mentioned that name when I spoke of Your Majesty.” Aramus said.

“Tomoe Gozen, now Atalanta… famous female warriors of the past, both of them. One was mythological, other was historical, I see,” the Queen said, apparently going deep in thought again. “Odin… in response to me? My apologies, but I am unable to comprehend the reason behind it. I find it… mysterious. However, I shall thank you for your report.”

“Indeed, I felt the same way when she mentioned Odin,” Aramus said, lowering his head at his Queen’s thanks. “However, there is one more matter I’d like to bring to your attention. It concerns Pisces.”

“Alice, †˜Time Warrior’ of Japan, was it? Very well, I’ve love to hear this.”

“On the trip to England, our train was set upon by terrorists. They were promptly dealt with but we ran into Alice during our investigation of the ordeal. It was through her help that I learned of the cause and… a lead to whoever might have been responsible.”

“Hmm… I have read various reports about the attacks of the Magic Train recently,” the Queen responded, reminding herself of a document she went through some days ago. “I am – in all earnesty – curious, how did it come to Alice herself cooperating with a son of my country?”

This is where Aramus felt genuinely torn and ashamed of himself. “She did not seem to want to associate with the other Magisters so I took it upon myself to speak to her. In exchange for this information, I had to offer something up. A Descendent would not have need for anything I could offer except one and that would be for me to stay my hand against her. Words would not suffice for how sorry I am, Your Majesty but I am now in her debt.”

“...” the Queen remained silent for a moment. Whether it was because she was carefully picking her next words or simply wondering what he had done, Aramus didn’t know. “Conflict is something I oft loathe,” she began. “If it was the only solution to the matter, then so it was, however lamentable it may be. At least we may now assume that she resides among our neighbours. I must, however, remind you that cooperating with our sworn enemy is in no way in our best interests,” she said, reprimanding Aramus. “You may keep your promise – for I feel that you must maintain your own chosen, given words to an individual – but any more beyond this would be declared treason. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, Your Majesty.” Aramus nodded glumly. “It would be upon your orders that I would engage her, that is what I promised her.”

“It shall be your penance to observe if a time comes where you’d feel the requirement to combat her,” the Queen stated. “I would never request you to break an oath you have made, as I had mentioned; you must not break your promise. However wrong it must have been, Duchess Caroline made a swift return as a result of your action, so it was not as wrong as one would believe.”

“I understand and thank you.” Aramus had to resist the urge to give one of his trademark sighs in her presence but it didn’t make him feel any better to hear her speak to him about this matter. “It is an undesirable outcome but due to Alice providing the information, it seems as though the Society is after Duchess Cavendish.”

“The Society will always find harm from her, for my dear Caroline will always be a thorn in their path. Such are the circumstances,” the Queen said, standing up, and walking up to the window. “The Society, we are not amused,” she said quietly.

“I am guessing The Society then approached Elizabeth, her daughter?” she inquired.

A flash of emotion appeared on Aramus’s face before he could stop it and he replied solemnly. “As you say, Your Majesty. They required her for some… †˜wetwork.’ I was unable to stop her from completing the task due to their interference.”

“I see, so they already had her under their grasp… I was too late,” she said, looking down, then up to the cloudy sky. “Long have noblemen sought the relic that the Cavendish Bentincks possessed, out of envy and thirst for power to the point that she was a figure for assassination. Penny were quite literally thrown out to the assassins, they say. Eventually, I suppose even the young Duchess’ daughter would have to contract the devils of Europe to live in peace. There was no need to stop her, for she is unstoppable, Sir Valmark.”

“Still, for one of my precious students to be…” He caught himself before anything more could spill out, hardening his expression. She was his Queen, his Liege. There would be no refusing her. “Yes, Your Majesty. Would you require anything of me with regard to this?”

It seemed to be raining when the Queen peered across the city from the window, making the atmosphere far more gloomy than before. The Queen turned to face Aramus subsequently after the question.

“I believe there is no need to be so concerned with what you cannot find or see. I suspect you have recently been commissioned by my Organization?”

“Yes.” He nodded in affirmation, though his target was one he wished he could have avoided.

“I do not think it is true but… if there is proof regarding her vampirism: I hereby command you to eliminate her.”

“Of course.” Now there was no recourse other than to eliminate Claudia, his little sister. Perhaps if he had kept some tabs on her, this might not have come to pass. There was one other thing he had left to say.

“Your Majesty, the title of Magister that you have given to me, I cannot ever express how thankful or grateful I am for it. Someone like me, born at the bottom of the barrel being given a chance to serve you as one of her finest, it is a great honour.” Aramus paused, finding it very hard to articulate himself. Speeches and confessions were never his thing after all. “And at times, I find it hard to live up to the standards expected of me.” Aramus pulled out the Fan of Paimon from within his robe, and left his seat before kneeling and presenting it to the Queen. “This relic, although it has served me well, does not rightfully belong to me. It was something I had taken when I was younger, from my beginnings as a street rat. I will not make any excuses for it. It will not make any amends but this I offer up to you.”

“So that’s where you were all along…” Victoria said, taking steps and coming up to Aramus from the window. Before her fingers touched the fan, intense wind flew out of it in all directions, blowing Aramus to the wall from beside the table. The Queen stood where she was, hardly blown off.

“Silence, spirit,” she uttered, and the wind stopped immediately.

When Aramus looked up, he found that the Queen held the fan to her bosom, smiling as if remembering something fondly before looking back to Aramus with a different face. It was unexpected.

“Why do you show me that expression? ...Why? It is nothing wrong for a child deprived of food to steal. It is – in fact – my fault that I could not make everyone happy,” she said, grimacing. “It must have been terrible for you to live that way. It is my fault that I had failed my responsibilities to my people; that there were poor starving urchins – no, poor families – suffering somewhere down the pavements. You are in no way wrong to covet and act upon your emotions. Hence, I blame you not.” Ah… I gave in to my passion and emotions for my duty yet again and show a part of me I should not have…

“Long have I selected Magisters. †˜Magic Magisters’, I called them,” she said. “Exceptional talents are something to be cherished, for they are God’s gift. I believe that they may shape the world, and take it to a brighter direction, do you not agree? Unlike the nobles, I did not discriminate, and shall not for the times to come. You deserve your title, I bid you be proud of yourself, and live with pride, regardless of what others say about you.”

“It would be my honour, Your Majesty,” Aramus replied, shrugging off the slight ache that came with slamming hard into a wall. “There will always be people, those less fortunate that fall between the gaps of society and try as we might, saving all of them is a tall order. However, for this one life that you have saved, I pledge my loyalty and service to you till the day I breathe my last. This I swear on both my name and title as Magister.”

“...It makes me proud to know that the one child I gave permission for entry to the Royal Academy has grown up to be a fine magi, and a loyal subject. I look forward to your contributions, dear Sir. Regarding the fan, however, I have made my decision. The one who shall judge you for your crime will not be me, but the one who was supposed to attain this very relic,” the Queen declared. “Pray seek me out after the Meeting. I shall take you to the true owner when that time comes. Do prepare yourself, for the owner is a harsh individual who values solitude. Till then, you may keep this fan.” The Queen then walked up to Aramus who was by the wall, and upon both her palms she presented it back to Aramus.

Gracefully receiving the fan from his monarch, Aramus slipped it back into his robe where it settled into its usual position, a source of comfort for him. “I would be untruthful to say I look forward to that meeting, but it’s just desserts for what I have done. Thank you for giving me the chance to make amends.”

“For us, a life goes through a series of good and bad. I would believe some perseverance is in order for said harsh times. I must ask, however, is there anything else you’d have me hear?”

“Yes, something off-topic if you do not mind. Although the palace is large, I did not see a corresponding number of guards or personnel on the way in. Is it always this way?” Aramus commented.

“The guards were sent away to deal with an intruder. No need to worry, for everything is under control,” the Queen answered.

“Oh.” So that was the reason there were no guards. Well, if there were some, then he didn’t have to feel anxious about leaving her without a security detail. “I see. The palace seems a bit too large for just one person though.”

“It is a government office, and I do take pleasure from intricate, marvellous designs. Not like I truly live alone here, either.”

“Indeed, this would be a good place for some tea and a book,” Aramus agreed, looking out the same view that the Queen had earlier, something that he would probably not get to see again for a very long time.

“Mayhap one day we will be able to have tea with such pleasant surroundings,”the Queen said, but shook her head. “At a later time, perhaps.”

Aramus took a moment to just stare at her, his brain trying to catch up with what she had just said. The Queen having tea with him? Him. “P-Perhaps there would be time after the Meeting,” he offered.

“Perhaps,” she repeated the word he said, chuckling. “We shall see. Depending on what happens in the Meeting… well, who knows, I may be able to make time for a brief respite.”

Aramus smiled, happier than he let on. “I shall await the good news then. Thank you for your time today, Your Majesty. I shan’t take any more of it.”

“Indeed. I must return to work,” the Queen said, peering back to the pile of documents on her table. “Have a good day, and take care. I wish well of you.”

The bells of the clock tower tolled, taking Tsuruko’s attention. The constant noises of the distant factories, smog, and the old-fashioned western surroundings were completely new to her. There seemed to be a lot less birds here chirping about, and a lot less trees or grass, she felt. Here in England, London, Tsuruko found herself almost out-of-place. She could see why Alice took away her miko garb and made her wear more casual clothes. Even then, she was getting the stares almost all the time across the streets. Her exotic facial features and her attire – even though after changing it – drew unwanted attention. On the other hand, Alice drew attention due to her peerless beauty alone.

Today, they were out of the hotel they had booked a room in and made way for a certain restaurant. Alice told Tsuruko that they were going to meet an associate, and that’s all she knew.

Tsuruko later found out that it was true. Inside the restaurant – which was fancy in its own light in comparison to the ones in Tokyo – Alice was immediately beckoned by a handsome blonde man.

“Good day, ladies,” the gentleman greeted. “I see that I finally get to meet the Japanese warrior of time, and her attendant. I have made many orders as I was waiting, please, help yourself to some tea. Oh, but where are my manners, as you may have known, my name is Leon.”

Alice complied, accepting the tea. “Hello,” she said. Her English made Tsuruko doubt her ears. “It is a pleasure to meet you, too. My name is Alice.”

“A-And, I am Tsuruko.” Tsuruko fumbled upon her words, for she hadn’t been using English for such a long time now – despite her lessons – and found it relatively difficult to sustain a proper sentence. Nevertheless, she greeted Leon as usual – with a right-angled bow.

“Tsuruko, you’re as pretty as a flower. Please, have some tea too,” Leon offered again. “I hope we get to know each other more,” he added with a smile.

“Me, too,” she replied, taking a moment to glance over Leon and remember his facial features, before receiving the cup of tea from him. The cups they used were of course different – porcelain, patterned ones, in comparison to the ones she’d use for ceremonies or regular use, which are made of clay. She took a sip of tea, and nearly squinted at the taste; it was so much sweeter and more flavourful than her regular chrysanthemum or jasmine tea back in Japan. She could only guess what this tea was made of, but it wasn’t a taste she’d yearn for.

Parting her lips from the cup and setting it down on a saucer, she asked Leon: “...Do you know Japanese?”

“If it would be easier for you, I may speak in Japanese, too,” Leon said. “However, I am not very good at it. Being born and raised here, I got the opportunity to learn the language of a secluded – pardon my language in regards to your home land – country.”

“I, uh- t-that’s nice.” Tsuruko didn’t entirely catch Leon’s words when she thought she could, but she could barely grasp the meaning from them. “I think I am the same. You have never been there?”

“Not really, no,” Leon answered. “It’s okay if you do not understand, I may rephrase if that would make it easier for you.”

“Tsuruko,” Alice called out, casting a cold gaze. “It is not very courteous to imply that he should speak in your mother tongue. Be more considerate.”

“Ah, er… sorry, mister Leon,” Tsuruko said, bowing again. Though she didn’t mean to come across as wanting Leon to speak Japanese, maybe, she thought, she could’ve asked her second question first.

“That is alright. I take no offense or find it discourteous,” Leon said, trying to save Tsuruko from Alice’s gaze. “On to the business, though,” he began. “I have already completed your request. Here.” Leon then slipped two letters across the table.

Alice took the letters, and handed one to Tsuruko. The envelope referred to Tsuruko clearly, however her full name was not included.

“These are invitations to the Queen’s Meeting. They were hard to get, so I hope you two at least enjoy the event. I believe a full name would make the guards suspicious, or even end up in a total riot, and we would not want that.”

Tsuruko understood what he meant. Besides, her full name would throw some people off. Plus, she’d imagined Alice to be world-famous or something, but she wasn’t really sure. She looked at the letter more intently. She wondered what the Queen’s Meeting would be like. She’d imagined it was some sort of fancy event. Trying to come up with a proper question, Tsuruko asked, “When does this happen?”

“Six days from now, on Sunday,” Leon answered. “I am sure that you are confused about a lot of things, having to come here for a mission, and an important one at that. If you have questions, concerns, or even want me to show you around town, please let me know. The same goes for you too, Lady Alice.”

“I must respectfully decline,” Alice immediately said. “I shall remain in the hotel.”

“Ahh, my apologies. I assumed that you’d need to collect more data on our country. I hope you stay safe.”

Tsuruko, of course, was going with Alice. She couldn’t leave her, despite the smallest part of her that wanted to explore around. It was her duty, after all. “I will keep her safe,” Tsuruko mentioned, though she knew that was well not the case.

“A little disheartened I am,” Leon said, pretending to be hurt. “I speak in jest, but do take care of her and yourself.”

Alice sighed, as if disappointed, but didn’t speak further.

Instead of leaving immediately after Laura finished patching up his wounds, Michael decided to loiter around Laura’s office. His chin rested on his left hand, sitting casually while staring at Laura doing her paperwork. He admired her tenacity; when she fought with him, when she was at the hotel, and most of all, when staring at all those paperwork.

“Is there anything else you need?” Laura asked without looking up from her documents, Michael’s stare coming off as a little disconcerting. “You should rest while you can.”

“Want to take a break?” Michael asked, “I feel like taking a walk.” He sprang up from his chair and walked towards Laura, kneeling when he was beside her. “Come with me, Princess, and I would show you the world!” he said in a sing-song voice.

“What…?” Laura said, but then heaved a sigh to ease herself up, and smiled. “Where would you take me, then, Prince?”

“Let’s go to the park, it’s a nice place and there won’t be anyone who would bother us.”

“At this time of the night?”

“Yeah, It will be like we have the park just for us! Now, let’s go!”

“I suppose it will be peaceful and quiet, at least,” Laura said, agreeing.

“This is why I lament the existence of reckless people,” Laura said, tending to Michael’s wound; wrapping bandages at places where his prey struck him.

Michael was back in the church. He reported his victory over the lycanthrope and explained most of what transpired in the battlefield. Laura was far from happy and seemed to be rather irritated because of how hurt he was from the battle. Everyone seemed to be asleep, as it was past midnight, and Laura was up reading some reports and doing paperwork he’d understood the importance of when he first arrived.

“Well, if you’re going to be the one who tends to my wounds every time, you should expect this to happen a lot,” Michael joked, trying to get his mind off what happened. He had tomorrow, maybe even the day after to think about what Bram Stoker said. For now, he’d try to enjoy the fact he had survived an encounter with a lycanthrope twice as big as him. “Besides,I’m pretty lucky, I think.”

“Lucky, about what? Sheesh, these claw patterns on.. your shoulders… that must’ve been one large lycanthrope,” Laura commentedd. “...I wonder if this was the exact lycanthrope that Mary was reporting about back then.”

“Probably. I don’t think there would be two lycanthropes running around London. At least, I hope there weren’t.” Michael stopped talking for a second before going back to Laura’s first question. “Yeah I think I was pretty lucky. The rain might’ve weakened his connection with the moon, for one. The second would be that you were here when I got back… I think his claws had poison, not sure.” He turned his head to face Laura and smiled at her. “So thanks, for being here I mean, and helping me with my wounds.”

“You… you’re welcome,” Laura replied, albeit her voice tone was really low. “...Anyway, I hope you’re not relaxing too much now, more missions are still to come.”

“I’ll be ready,” Michael replied. “What did they say about that thing with Mary and the Boundaries? Or did they even say something?”

“...Nothing, which is rather strange,” Laura answered. “Nothing of note, that is. They did say that investigations would be done to confirm my reports. Do they think that I am untrustworthy?” Laura said, her temper flaring. “...We knights aren’t taken seriously often just because we are not the oh-so-pious priests, yet we’re told to boss around a mob of executors. That aside, there is a request that came in recently, and you’re the only one without any work. So I suppose you got your next mission.”

“I suppose. What is it about?” Michael asked, ignoring Laura’s outburst.

“About someone suspected to have turned into a vampire recently,” Laura answered, still tending to Michael’s wounds. “I don’t know how they got the information, but it is said that she is close to the leader of the terrorists, BLoodLuSt. This may be dangerous, but that’s part of the job.”

“I’d cry the day they give us an easy job,” Michael quipped. “Did she get turned willingly? Do they have anything else about her, like a name, perhaps?”

“Yes, yes they do,” Laura answered, taking some papers out from a pile of other papers, and handing it to Michael. “As you can see, her name is Claudia Virtusio de la Farris – this name was recently confirmed. She settled in from France, and there are numerous cases where she is doubted to have been a part of a family of Diabolics that the church executed more than a decade ago. Currently she is a scholar in the Royal Academy and was working with a Duke until recently before she decided to leave him. There are rumours saying that she cast a forbidden spell in a practice match in the academy, but the academy chose to conceal all information regarding the matter to protect its reputation,” she said, explaining the matter. “Basically, there are quite a lot of reasons for which they want you to go execute discretely. Her full name allowed the Church to know that she is indeed the final surviving member of the Diabolic family, and the forbidden spell indicates further that she is dangerous. There is a source stating that she is often sighted around the East End, and that’s all you got to go with for a trail.”

“Interesting. I won’t enquire how she escaped her family’s execution, but to serve the Duke… You think she were spying on him for the BLoodluSt?” He voiced out his thoughts while reading the papers Laura handed to him. He immediately assumed that she was a vampire, and decided to consider his plans. “I’m actually quite surprised we have this much information about her. Does she work alone?”

“She has been suspected by the Church for a while it seemed. Even we cannot take action without proper grounds against a person suspected of heresy. Her possible interactions with the terrorists, however, was not something we could ignore. Considering that she may be connected with this organization, she may not be working alone.”

“I see. Well then, I’ll start reconnaissance as soon as possible. That being said, I need to replenish my supplies soon. You know anyone who likes to tinker with guns?”

“As usual, you buy with credits, or you can ask Robert if you like getting off scot free,” Laura said, shrugging. “Make sure to rest up before getting back to work, I doubt you’d be able to investigate in that state.”

“I’ll ask Robert then. I try not to spend money as much as I can, after all. Besides, I might’ve done his job for him, killing the lycanthrope and all.”

“I suppose you did, who would’ve thought your and his target were one and the same?” Laura said, contemplating the matter. “I wonder what the story behind Bram Stoker is, however, since I can’t help but think there is more than meets the eye.”

“Not sure, wasn’t really in the position to ask… or to talk to him for that matter. He seemed like he was unaware of what he was, though. If you ask me… it seemed like he was a victim himself,” Michael replied, putting his hand on his chin while thinking.

“Perhaps someone was behind this… maybe BLoodLuSt, but I may be overthinking,” Laura guessed, but it was as good as any.

“Well, they are the most probable suspects… But why choose Stoker of all people? Isn’t he popular? Are they always this flashy?”

“Not at all,” Laura replied. “People like Claudia are more common. People like her with rare talents yet obscure to the society. She was but a maid working for the Duke until she left him. However, they do say that Claudia’s family was once an upstanding family in France. Now the surviving member is but a mere topic of scandal, and more scarcely, a scholar.”

“Yet they were heretics and were executed by the Church. Much easier connection made. I guess they decided it was time for her to be with her family, then.”

“Possibly. I would not be surprised if that were the case.”

In the London Borough of Camden’s area, Bloomsbury – a central area of London – stood the British Museum, which basically laid between the Euston Road and Holborn. This was a famed museum which held a notable man’s—Sir Hans Sloane’s—collection, which gave rise to the establishment Aramus had traveled to, as the premises held a department known to be a part of the British Library. This particular department had a secret pathway to a staircase leading underground, which the mundanes were unaware of, and Aramus traveled the path leading down to find a different face of said library. Here, all kinds of books and tomes of magic were stored for the magicians of London.

Aramus did not come with only his wallet. He was given a letter from an associate of the Royal Council. This was a letter he couldn’t open carelessly in the public, as this was from a very important Magic Organization that controlled the Magic World essentially. As he arrived after the lunch hour, the place often called the Magic Library was sparsely populated. Turning left and right, he could hardly see many individuals, save for a few studious individuals likely from the Royal Academy. Some adults laid about across tables quite a distance away, apparently engaged with their books. He didn’t know if they were here to research like him, but it was probably the case.

Aramus simply went to look around for his own space and read his letter in peace. He collected a pile of books before sitting down in a corner he found comfortable, and then he took the letter out. Unlike his previous letter, it did not have the unmistakable seal of the Queen. Meaning that this letter was not specifically written by Her Majesty. It was a work request, as usual. He tore it open, taking a good look at its contents and once he did, some of his fears came true. Information from the Royal Council accompanied a monochrome picture of Claudia, an elimination order. Aramus sighed deeply.

Aramus then checked the pile of books he had gathered. Skimming over the titles, he noted that some were not exactly relevant to what he was looking for and went in search of more. Since most of the volumes were arranged by whatever information they held, it made his job a lot easier than looking around randomly in a library as large as this.

Walking in between the aisles and shelves, there was a particular shelf that held a book that caught his interest and he slid a rolling ladder over, climbing up to retrieve it. Apparently, the books here didn’t see much use as there was a fine layer of dust on the covers. Thumbing over those available, it took a little more force than was usually necessary to pull it out as it was wedged tight between the others. Aramus only had time to breathe “No…” in disbelief as the rest of the shelf came with it, sending him down in a shower of paper and dust.

It was suffocating, and Aramus had a hard time taking the next breath as he poked his head out from the heap of books that laid over him after he fell from the ladder. Dust danced in the air and he sneezed due to it, the noise echoing down the halls.

When he looked around, it was a wonderful mess. Aramus sighed. Having to clean all this up would certainly take more time than he’d want it to. He cursed a certain spirit that brought him bad luck like this all the time. When he started collecting the books, there was one particular book that was found open. It caught his eye with a certain word he had heard before, which was in a large font reading †˜the legend’. Aramus picked it up. It spoke of an old tale of a curse made by Odin. That’s when he realised that he had hit the jackpot. By some fortune – and some misfortune – he had come across something that may have a clue. Putting the books back in a hurry, Aramus rushed back to his desk, and placed the book down on the table and inspected it.

He read the tale, which Alice once recited almost two weeks ago. It was a glum story about how the Valkyries fell against the Infernals when Ragnarok took place, and Odin cursed humanity, for their warriors did not aid their protectors and instead abandoned them to their fate. This was a story Aramus already knew. He continued reading the book. It spoke of tales he could hardly understand. Half the contents were unreadable simply because they were so old that the text had somehow rubbed off the pages. The text followed a very old style of English too, so it was harder to make sense of it. What Aramus figured was that this book kept records on certain deities.

There were two pages on Odin. One detailed the god’s tale of the curse, and the other contained something he hadn’t heard from Alice. Odin was referred to as the king who ruled the world but was a member of the Dominion who was sent to aid mankind, and combat the Infernals who were prophesied to come from the gates of hell. He was only referred to as a god because he was a divine being from the heavens, but was otherwise not a real deity. There was an illustration of an older-looking man sitting on his throne at the end of the page. The text cut-off to the next page, beginning a sentence that was supposed to describe something else. When Aramus turned the page, he discovered that the next page was torn off, not by an accident, but likely intentionally by someone.

Just when he had a good lead, this had to happen. It was already hard enough as it was to try and find some information on Descendants without meeting one in person, or going through some archaic tomes that he couldn’t possibly understand without going to someone else for assistance. Well, if someone had torn out the page then this book must have led somewhere.

He soon stumbled upon descriptions on Artemis. Most of said descriptions were of the goddess most people knew in the current world, but described in its own style. What the rest of the world didn’t know was that the supposed goddess was apparently fooled, and her †˜maiden’ lost her chastity to Zeus. Ever since, Artemis was written to be never the same, and overprotective of her followers. Additionally, he learned that when Artemis attacked Zeus out of sheer rage, it was Athena who defeated her.

Aramus chuckled at this, it was so like her. That said, things were getting more complicated. Exactly which Descendants corresponded to Zeus and Athena? At least now he knew that there was some dissent amongst their ranks. The only thing he failed to find was anything on the last Valkyrie, the one who had deserted their ranks with her lover. There wasn’t a single mention of her in the books he went through.

Steel clashed against wind, and it felt as it could cut apart the wall of air before reaching the weathered cloak, and then the bare flesh.

Aramus was in the basement of the Cavendish Bentinck’s manor. Something Caroline – the Duchess – claimed to be her humble abode. Even though it was a basement not used often, it was relatively clean. Despite learning Elizabeth’s dark secret, she seemed to be treating him as she normally did back in the academy, for the past two weeks. They hadn’t spoken regarding her matters, as Aramus ignored it, just as she did herself, and it seemed like Elizabeth would indeed go out on her own without escorts wordlessly, making her mother worry often.

Ever since that day in the church of Santa Maria, Aramus hadn’t seen the greatsword she brandished to burn the child’s corpse to ashes. Instead, she’d take up a simple-looking sword. Nothing too fancy, but it was elegant in its own fashion – with the house’s insignia decorating the hilt – and seemed to be made out of high-quality materials.

“Without magic, your wind is almost impeccable, teacher,” Elizabeth commented, heaving a sigh. She found herself panting, but still holding her sword with her stance. If it were any ordinary person, they’d have dropped to the floor to rest, but a true lady like Elizabeth was different. Anything that may make her appear unladylike would simply never happen, unless someone forcibly bent her will.

“I’d very much like to request another spar, teacher. This time with your fan, if that would be acceptable,” Elizabeth said.

“Very well.” Drawing his fan, Aramus made ready to spar with Elizabeth once again. As soon as she was ready to begin, a quick flick of his wrist sent a blade of wind sailing at her.

Elizabeth noted her teacher’s acceptance, sheathed her sword, and raised her arm before a reminiscent blade materialised.

“En garde.”

Aramus’ wind collided with the flames summoned forth by Elizabeth’s newly brought-forth weapon, which instead fanned the flames brighter before she returned his blow – now in the form of flames – back at him.

Bringing a condensed wall of air, the heat nonetheless pushed him back a step as it battered against his defences. The heat was overwhelming. Beads of sweat began to roll down his brow. Gathering mana within his hand, Aramus released a bolt of lightning as soon as the flames washed away. It streaked towards Elizabeth, crackling with energy. However, it was faced with a beam of fire that Elizabeth decided to counter with. It seemed like the two poured similar amounts of mana into their spells, so they cancelled themselves out eventually after a small burst of energy.

Elizabeth placed her right foot forward as she took a stance taught to her from her very childhood. With her sword almost at eye-level, she only took a moment to check each other’s positions before dashing forward towards her teacher with the sword set straight for a clean thrust.

Aramus raised an eyebrow, gathering the surrounding air to form a blade around his fan. Not meant to be used for close combat, he had to think of ways to be creative with his fan. Whatever magic he had probably wouldn’t last against his student’s flame sword. As Elizabeth drew within striking range, he angled it such that the fan would deflect her sword just enough for him to dodge under it. He weaved past, robe billowing as they reversed positions. Elizabeth gave a graceful spin and the flares given off her weapon danced, burning away the blades of air that surrounded her. Giving a thrust, the windy blade of Aramus’ fan and his student’s sword clashed.

Dispersing the air around his fan, Elizabeth pitched forward from the lack of resistance. Before she could recover, Aramus used the very same air to propel her upwards with a sharp thrust of his hand. He was content to let her float up there but upon seeing her ready another flame spear, Aramus sighed and flicked his hand again, slamming her into the ceiling. He sincerely hoped no one on the ground floor would notice. The impact jarred her enough to send the spear far away from its intended target.

Elizabeth fell down, and she barely recovered by stabbing her sword onto the floor for a landing. She seemed tired before she gave a respectable bow.

“Thank you for your time,” she said, restraining herself from panting. “It was a wonderful spar, I did not think a spell often employed by my mother would be the medicine to my undoing.”

“No problem,” Aramus replied, a smirk forming on his face. “Make use of whatever is available to you. Terrain is one option. You did well, your flames were too much for this little fan to handle head on.” He moved to help her. Her back must’ve been bruising right about now.

“I will be fine, teacher,” Elizabeth said, declining any further help he could offer. There was a smile somehow telling him that getting any closer to her wouldn’t be necessary. “I have much more to learn, and shall remember your words for the battles to come.”

“I’m not having any of that,” Aramus replied, ignoring her words and propping her up. “Let's get that looked at, get some cream applied to it so that it doesn’t bruise too much. Experience is something that will come naturally, provided you survive. Don’t worry too much.”

“Our maids here are often taught healing spells so I am completely fine; please do not worry, teacher,” Elizabeth replied, adamant. “I will be good as new soon.”

Yet this was not enough to dissuade her teacher who just continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Yes, yes. Now let’s go. You won’t be the one getting a glare from the master of this house, now hush.”

“...Very well, since you insist.” Now the smile changed to something of a defeated expression, and Elizabeth complied with her teacher’s guidance.

“Now you know how I feel when I get lectured.” Aramus chuckled, happy at her obedience. “I hope no one in the manor felt that impact…”

“This basement was designed for practices and spars, so it has endured countless blows. I am sure that even if someone caught the noise of impact, they wouldn’t pay any mind to it, since it was always like that whenever my mother and I fought,” Elizabeth said, looking back to her past fondly.

Reassured by the news, Aramus now had one less thing to worry about. Now that their spar was over, he could probably start on his other endeavours.

Steel burned and howled over the fire before it was taken out and hammered. The loud noise of the bashing was a little disconcerting to Claudia. The room was alight with the blazing flame on the fireplace while Claudia and Marco watched the blacksmith do his work.

Somewhere beyond East End, Claudia had traveled with Marco aboard a carriage – apparently one nobles would often travel in – and had arrived at what seemed like an ordinary house. There was a servant who opened the door, and led the pair to the basement where they witnessed the sight of a crafter hard at work.

“It has been long,” Marco said, giving a bow to the old man before them.

“Been awhile, lad,” the blacksmith said, not even giving a glance. “Who’s the lass beside you?”

“She is a new comrade, her name is Claudia,” Marco said, introducing Claudia to the old man. “Claudia, this man here is Simon. We are going to get you one of his swords.”

Giving a small bow, Claudia greeted the man. “Bonjour. It is good of you to do me the kindness of making a new blade for me,” she said.

“Kindness? I wouldn’t call it as such, I work for my penny, no more, no less,” Simon replied, a little grumpy. “Well, what kind of a sword may you be looking for? I made some through the Bessemer process. I hear young’uns can’t get enough of the modern styles.”

“Well, I’ve grown accustomed to my old sword, but…” Claudia said to herself. “...Have you ever made a scythe before, Monsieur?” she asked, setting aside the thought of using such a gratuitous weapon as that old Ymir. She needed something that would suit her better – a clean slate as one would say.

“Not often, but I have made a few before,” Simon answered. “All of you lunatics sure have different requests each time. Last time they wanted a freakin’ rose made of steel for a wand!”

Claudia’s eyebrow twitched at the word lunatic, but she tossed it aside. “A steel rose for a wand? Now that is something you would not usually see someone use in battle. Regardless, there is such a thing as the concept of flashiness, something I never bothered to question,” Claudia replied. “I find it interesting, that people would go as far as to look unique in a fight. It makes a name for themselves, and it has the ones fallen by their hand remember that one thing as they curse their last breath...”

“Pardon, fair lady, but you haven’t seen much,” Marco said from beside Claudia. “There are many nobles spending countless pennies for the sake of looking unique. Only rarely do they come with any special effects.”

Claudia chuckled. “Well I suppose that is true as well. Still, being unique isn’t always a bad thing either. Why, my old sword had a skull carved onto it, as crude as that sounds.”

“Besides,” Marco said, “the rose wand was Lady Rose’s commission.”

“That was likely an Infernal item,” Simon said. “Crude? I’d call it spooky instead.”

Claudia hummed. “Quite. Now, about my request. Are you able to fulfill it? Even a blacksmith working in the slums could do something so trivial as a scythe.” she said.

“Get off your high horse, you already had the answer,” Simon snarled, not liking Claudia’s attitude.

Claudia only chuckled into her palm and turned her gaze elsewhere. That sudden reaction was simply delightful to her for some reason. She held a mischievous smirk the whole time she was there.

Ufufu, what a high-strung man… she thought.

“...Marco, tell this rude lass that I’m not working for her,” Simon finally said after taking a moment to sigh. “Vampires or not, I don’t care. I work for my penny, but anyone who dares to make fun of me isn’t getting anything regardless of how bottomless their purse is.”

Claudia turned back to the man with a now deadpan expression, cracking her index finger. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? If that is the case, then I apologize wholeheartedly as I meant no harm,” she explained, turning her gaze once more. A sensitive blacksmith, too? Goodness…

“You don’t sound least bit apologetic, lunatic,.”

Marco palmed his forehead as he watched Claudia respond to Simon’s reply. “Really? Don’t flip back and forth like that. We all have our pride. Fair lady, you must control yourself more.” He then turned to the blacksmith and gave a bow.

“I apologise,” he said. “We’ll make an order elsewhere. Let’s go,” he said, taking leave of the room. Claudia followed after subsequently, leaving the house.

The door to the Countess’ room was opened by George after Cosette knocked in Claudia’s place, and the two came in to find two gentlemen and a lady they hadn’t met before. Among these new faces sat Catherine, enjoying a glass of wine – or was it blood? – as she conversed with them. The atmosphere was full with merriment and vivacity, and they were all engaged in a topic about scandals in the High Places.

“Good day to you, my dear,” the Countess greeted as Claudia and her servant came in. “How do you do? We were just talking about you earlier.”

“I am well, thank you,” Claudia replied, smiling. “But on the topic of myself, of what topic, may I ask?” she asked, curious.

“Why, the topic of your struggles and hardship before coming to us, of course,” Catherine promptly answered. “It is a wonderful tale, I must say. From the diabolics to slavers to being the Duke’s maid and then to us. Quite a string of lifelong events, would you not agree?”

“Indeed, more strenuous than anything,” Claudia added. “Moreover, I am curious as to who your friends are, Countess.”

“Well, why not join us? Here, take a seat,” Catherine offered. There was some space beside the other lady who sat on a sofa, toward which Catherine motioned.

As Claudia did as she was told and made herself comfortable, the Countess introduced her companions. “The one beside you is Rose Nevill, and on the other hand,” Catherine referred to the two gentlemen on the other side, “we have Ansil and Marco.”

The three bowed their heads facing Claudia for but a moment before making their greetings in the very order their names were given out.

“Good day, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re our latest comrade? I welcome you to our cause.”

“A pity it wasn’t me – the diner of nobles – who drank your blood. Nonetheless, welcome! I commend your bravery to join us like this. Nobody had done it like that for centuries.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you all.” Claudia bowed in return. “Speaking of… there are different ways of sucking someone’s blood? The Countess failed to mention that small detail…” The girl bat an eye at Catherine and smiled as vaguely as she could.

“Because that is for you to figure out,” Rose answered before Catherine could think up a cordial reply. “The Countess would only give advice if asked. Otherwise, it is up to us to experiment and learn the pleasures of sucking blood on our own, or anything related to our way to living, for that matter.”

“Indeed,” Marco agreed, nodding. “Only you can know how you’d want to enjoy your meal.”

“Huh, I never thought of it that way. You will have to excuse me, I am still getting used to the lifestyle of a vampire,” Claudia said, scratching the back of her head.

“That is alright, my dear. Take your time,” the Countess finally replied. “No one is asking you to rush to get familiarised with the way we live.”

“True,” Claudia added. “With that said, I’m assuming you all aren’t here for just a friendly conversation with the Countess, no?”

“We gathered here at Milady's summons, for there is an operation we must help succeed,” Rose answered.

“The tasks will apparently be shared between us, but even we don’t know what they are except our Mistress here,” Marco answered. “I’m curious, to be honest, but we were waiting on you.”

“My, how kind of you all. The Duke would have never waited on me, either that or he wouldn’t include me in any of his endeavors at all,” Claudia said. “I would say this is a definite nice change from my past line of work.”

“You were a maid and a Dark Knight hired for specific work, but in our case things are different… you are a comrade to us, my dear, we’d never leave you to unending luxury while we toil with hard work. Everyone is expected to make their own contributions, which I believe, you’d happily be obliged to do,” the Countess said, as if reminding her, then clapped her hands. “Now, let us get down to business. We’re going to be performing the operation on the event known as Queen’s Meeting. I believe we all know what that is?”

“I’ve heard of this meeting, but to no avail, nothing to catch my ear,” Claudia inquired, realising she had been out of it for these past few weeks. “Do remind me of this event? I seemed to have forgotten the contents of the festivities.”

Everyone looked at the Countess, who in turn shrugged as if saying she didn’t know everything regarding what went on in the minds of others. “My dear, the Queen’s Meeting is held every year and is one of the largest events to take place in the Magic World. It is where the magicians revise the rules. New rules may be established via suggestions, which are then debated for and against among said magicians. In the end, the suggested rules must receive the majority vote if they are to see the light of day.”

“A ball hosted by the Queen takes place, and it is open to all the visitors!” Rose exclaimed as she spoke of the ball in high regards. “It is a spectacular event.”

“Not to mention there’s great food… in more ways than one,” Marco added, apparently imagining all the nobles that would attend.

“I think there were lotteries and gambles too… it’s a strange mix of a lot of things, honestly,” Ansel said, feeling somewhat interested in gambling.

Claudia hummed. “It certainly sounds like a grand affair, and knowing the Countess she has devised a plan for us to attend this event?” she asked, knowing Catherine and her tendency to have such connections. It was unmistakable she would be able to accomplish so.

“Indeed, you are looking at them now,” Catherine said. Looking down at the table before them, there were a few letters atop it. “We’re going to use these letters to enter as guests.”

“Splendid. As proactive as always, Catherine,” Claudia admired with an impressed expression.

“Take your respective letter lest you forget, ladies and gentlemen,” Catherine said, and then everyone started picking out their respective letters with their names on it. Rose handed Claudia her letter, however, Claudia’s full name was missing. The letter only described Claudia as simply Claudia.

“That was fast,” Ansel said. “I thought it’d take longer to bribe the nobles in charge of this.”

“It was of no difficulty for me, as they invited us on their own accord, I wouldn’t consider bribery as a method,” Catherine responded.

Glancing down at the letter Claudia wondered why her name, in all it’s entirety was omitted from the letter. “Was an error made?” she asked herself. “Catherine, could you explain the altering of my name?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. Perhaps her pride would not allow her to have it changed or altered on a document of some sort.

“Ah, that is because your family were diabolists. Did you know that the Duke omitted the rest of your name in similar fashion for your admission in the Royal Academy?” Catherine said.

With that, the girl’s face tightened. Hearing of her family and that the Duke had done the same thing as the nobles simply angered her. “...I see, I figured my family’s name would have traveled far, no doubt.” Claudia grimaced with a click of her tongue. “And I suppose the Church would be after me if you had used my name, then, yes?”

“I fear they are already investigating matters regarding you,” Catherine answered. “Granted, the Duke meant no harm in the alteration, it was a means of protection. Regardless, do not be surprised if you are attacked. They are not publicly branding you as a heretic, but eventually they would want to be rid of you.”

“But I’ve no business with their ilk, why hunt me now, after all these years?” Claudia complained with a darkened glare creeping along her features. “Typical of the Church, a group of bigots, that’s what they are. It’s fine, I will not hesitate to defend myself if – no, pardon – when it comes to that. And I will slaughter the lot of them.” As she said this, Claudia cracked the knuckle of her index finger on her right hand. She now had a habit of cracking her right index finger, ever since she became a vampire. Things were slowly changing for the girl.

“Because it came to their attention that you used a forbidden spell,” Rose subsequently answered, “and, if you are suspected to be a vampire now, all the more reason, for the Church has always been our nemesis.”

“So they knew I was still alive, even before I casted the spell?” Claudia asked, hoping their answer to disprove her assumption.

“They had suspicions, but had little ground to take action, I believe,” Ansel said. “Right now though, the rumour of the forbidden magic is enough for them to do something about it. That said, if you have any questions about the Church, I’m the guy for them. I investigate them often on behest of our Mistress.”

“I will keep that in mind, thank you,” Claudia replied. Ansel would definitely prove helpful when evading the Church, that’s for sure. She cracked her index finger knuckle once more, now in a bitter mood from dwelling on this subject. What a horrible habit, she thought to herself.

“Now, back to our original topic, the operation,” Catherine began, speaking grandly. “Each of you must fulfill a role. However, since I am so magnanimous, I shall provide you all with options, and you all must decide how you will contribute to the operation by yourselves.”

“What irony,” Marco stated, laughing. In return he saw their Mistress giving a most mischievous expression that revealed one of her sharp fangs.

“If you’d be so kind, then, let us know of these roles?” Rose asked, seemingly curious.

“So, we need someone to cause a commotion in the party. This is an important role meant for distraction,” the Countess said, wondering who’d decide to do this. “This also means that those who already possesses a public face may not take up this responsibility.”

“Indeed,” Marco said, “So it falls to either me, Ansel, or George.”

“No, George has already been assigned to his task. He will not be chancing to take up any of the assignments I shall offer today,” the Countess promptly elaborated.

“I see,” Ansel said, pondering, “I feel like this is perfect for me. Marco is more of an assassin.”

“Then I guess you can do that,” Marco said, smirking. “I look forward to your show.”

“The second role I offer is… the deactivation of the magical defense system,” the Countess said. “There will be several red ruby stone across the premises, and they will project a protective magic all across the place. They may project something akin to a beam of magical energy if we attempt to escape for any reason.”

“Detection of magic is my forte,” Rose said. “I shall take care of them.” She then raised her hand forward to show a red ring. “This thing can lead me to various places one wouldn’t want anyone to find, after all.”

“Next would be the role of assassinating the Queen herself,” the Countess said, “A public assassination, who’s in?”

“...I am very much tempted to do this,” Marco said. He seemed overly excited at the idea of killing the Queen herself.

The Countess shrugged. “Claudia is also good with weapons, so I shall leave it to you two decide,” she said, then added, “The final role is the assassination of the personal guards who try to take the Queen away to treat her after the assassination takes place.”

“Sounds fun…” Claudia uttered, wearing a darkened smile. “They all sound so fun, I don't know which one to pick. Marco, a proposition, if you would?”

“How about this, then, fair lady: I strike at the Queen, then we both raid her attendees while they are carting her away. Mayhap we can feast on royal blood after that. Sounds glorious, don’t you think?”

“That sounds just splendid,” Claudia said, smile becoming wider as she became more dazed at the thought of killing and causing others pain. “As long as I get to step on the ones who get in my way…”

“Who knows, you may come across those meddling Church members along the way,” Marco said, smirking along with Claudia. “Maybe you can cleave them in two for me, that would be a show worth the watch.”

Claudia chuckled. “I would be delighted to. It will be good practice after so long. With that said, I still lack a sword, Countess. One cannot commit regicide empty handed,” she joked.

“I suppose it slipped my mind considering we were training you to control your newly awakened powers. My apologies, dear,” the Countess said, giving a bow. “Why don’t we take you to our favourite shop today? I’d have some business to commit to after this meeting, but perhaps George may escort you, or anyone else here.”

Claudia was conflicted, as everyone here seemed so interesting. “Mnm, I suppose Marco could accompany me. I don't mind,” the girl said, coming to a conclusion.

“Hah! You won’t regret it, fair lady,” Marco exclaimed, roaring with laughter.

Claudia couldn't help but smile at the man's brutish nature. It appealed to her somehow. "Fair lady, hmm? My, I knew you were interesting the moment I saw you," she said.

“To be fair, everyone here is fairly interesting,” Marco said, then clicked his tongue. “That said, if you happen to find this guy called Michael, cut him to pieces for me.”

“That sure came out of nowhere,” Ansel commented. “Although it was me who identified him, give me some credit, would you?”

“I couldn’t indulge is that broad’s blood, of course it’d come out of nowhere. It’s still bugging me,” Marco replied.

“It’s been two weeks and you’re still on it?” Rose asked, somehow not surprised despite asking. “You’ve been telling us to cut him up for you, but are you sure you don’t want to cut him up yourself?”

“I don’t really care, as long as someone teaches him where he belongs,” Marco said, apparently very sure of his feelings to the matter.

“This Michael, what did he do to get you so riled up?” Claudia spoke up, curious.

“I was in a battle with Mary,” Marco began, telling the tale of a night about two weeks ago. “Some pricks pried their way into the Realm that we were located in, and interrupted us. He had a delicious-looking lady with him, but he got in the way when I got to bite her. Not only that, Mary got away because of him...”

“You… fought Mary?” Claudia beamed, almost with disbelief. She was conflicted with that. Granted, despite her being a part of a ruthless terrorist group bent upon London’s destruction, part of the girl still saw Mary as a friend. Claudia sighed, dropping the question entirely. “What was she doing there, anyways?”

“Not really sure, I went there for a different reason but caught her scent, and raided them,” Marco answered. “Mary has quality blood, I just know it.”

“Well she certainly has a good head on her shoulders,” Claudia agreed.

“That she does,” Marco said, nodding.

“Well, she is certainly a strange one, popping around the Boundary Realms,” Ansel said. “Like the other day…”

Claudia quirked an eyebrow. “The Boundary Realms? Now, why would she be wandering around those parts? It appears Miss Shelly is a bit more quaint than I thought.”

“No idea, this isn’t the first time, but the umpteenth time, and she seems to hunt for something. We don’t know what,” Marco answered.

“Strange,” Claudia said, placing a hand on her chin. “Perhaps that will come to light when the moment calls for it. Later, I speculate.”

“One day,” Marco said.

“She is not important to our concerns for now,” Catherine finally stated. “For now, I would recommend ignoring her, Marco.”

“Fiiiine, her scent just happened to be too alluring…”

Have you been here for 2 years, even?

Alright, alright, just don't look at me with that cat-face.

Grats.

Happy birthday bby.

I did, because he is the Kenji who should absolutely never win over a girl. I chose Katawa's Kenji simply because I remembered that you played it while reading this lol.

So, Xenon, is it strange that I imagined Kenji from Katawa Shoujo when I was reading this?

I claim Ekaterina 'Katja' Kurae from Seikon no Qwaser.

Go back to Random, scrub.

how2play on pc again?

not even worth fucking up

and holy shit some of those character names

freaky pls go