Chapter 1; Part 1:_Novalie

1756-1763: Seven Years' War

Novalie was born right after the European war but threats were inevitable even before Britain's triumph. As the sole daughter of Lord McAlister and the late Elizabeth Fitzgerald, she carried the fate of the success or downfall of her country. That is why, at the age of five, a protector was hired. And she hated every fifty-six of them. She hated how her father would recruit another just as soon as the other left. She kept outsmarting them for she wanted to be free. Novalie wanted to prove that she was capable of fending for herself, just like Jeanne d'Arc. She was never the damsel in distress that needed help now and then. But that was twelve years ago. Now, even with her father's constant plea, she declines to face an escort nor a suitor.

At seventeen, Novalie would often settle herself in the garden, reading a few books to keep herself entertained. Silence was her only company besides a male who kept himself hidden from her gaze. Though, not for long.

"How long would you keep yourself concealed?" She asked the stranger, not looking up from her book. Silence was the only answer she received, "Oh please, I am not incompetent to not notice anything unusual such as yourself."

"Your father did say that you are aware of everything around you," The fellow appeared from behind her, covered by a black used robe. She couldn't see every bit of who he was nor the lies lingering in his eyes, "My apologies if ever I bothered you."

"You already did."

* * *

Behind the doors of Lord McAlister's quarters, he sat down silently as if waiting for someone to barge in at any moment. He wasn't expecting anything, to say the least, only hoping. On cue, Novalie stormed her way inside. The lord sighed at the expected reaction he received.

"Father, I told you too many times already that I do not need anyone restraining me of my movements," She told her father sternly, with a dozen remarks lingering inside her head.

"Certainly he was not like the rest," He replied with caution for he, himself, does not know the young man. He knew he was there, listening.

McAlister met him during one of his travels, holding up a piece of parchment offering to be Novalie's protector. The fellow knew how difficult it would be as well as how challenging it would become. He also swore that he would be the last one the lord would recruit. McAlister declined however, he was given a name and a place if ever he changed his mind.

"He is the worst, absolutely not like the others. I'd have him leaving in a week's time if he does not back out now. The choice is yours, father." With that, she left the room without giving him the chance to speak. The choice was indeed his to make.

"What do you think of my daughter?" McAlister asked him, hoping by now that he knows the danger of handling Novalie.

"She is as you say she is. Her level of awareness is outstanding and her skills are remarkable, I would say that she is suited for the army not a lady," He reported his observations throughout the few days that he followed her, "I will continue as planned."

"Sylar, you do know that she will make sure that she would emerge victorious. I am old and when I leave this world, you may be the only one whom I will entrust my daughter to." The lord said, his eyes tell a much greater reason on why he should persevere.

"Be at peace, Lord McAlister. Your daughter will not reign today."

By midnight, Sylar roamed around town in search for Novalie. She was not inside her room nor was she present during dinner. He then noticed a child running towards a dark alley at one part of town. At first, he did not acknowledge this being linked to the missing lady but as soon as more children ran towards the same alleyway, he became suspicious. Cautiously, he made his way. Arriving, Sylar met another one of Novalie's character. She wore the garments of the town folks and a cloak to hide most of her identity, she knew this screamed trouble. The two stared at each other as soon as he got pass the darkness.

"Run along now, Benjamin. I'll send notice again soon," The child did not move an inch as he eyed Sylar curiously. He has never met the fellow nor seen him walking around. He was a stranger and a foreigner.

"Are you sure it is alright?" Playing with the hem of his shirt, the boy asked. With a nod, he left, giving the man one last look.

"You are lucky that he was not one of the hostile bunch. Then again, what are you doing here?" Novalie questioned him, walking back home. She had planned to start tomorrow, seeing that he is to stay but first, she needed to know a bit about himself.

"I am here to escort you home." He stated, in fact.

"Did my father send you?" Sylar was about to answer when Novalie continued, "Oh, don't bother. I know he did. I can clearly handle myself."She walked off, away from him as much as possible.

With a laugh, a group of five men surrounded the two. They all wore rags as clothes and each had a dagger in his hand. A man with a patch covering his eye came forward, Novalie assumed that he led the small group. Sylar instantly placed her behind him, not noticing her own preparation.

"another one of the lady's playthings, I presume?" His men laughed at their leader's remark, "We'll start over then. Give us the girl and you'll both live, make it harder for the two of us and you'll die."

There was not much of a choice, a fight will emerge whether or not he gives her up. Sylar revealed a sword, extending an arm in an effort to shield Novalie. She lowered it down instead and brought out her own dagger, stolen from her home's armoury. Another laugh, then a cackle and finally silence. There was no one around; no witness, no reinforcements. It was either they die or he dies protecting a lady fighter. The leader shouted, ordering his men to kill the hindrance and grab the girl. Sylar, on the other hand, clashed his sword with his foe's dagger. He gave him a strong kick as leverage before slicing his weapon across the man's chest. Novalie fought hand-to-hand, piercing her attacker where his heart would be. It wouldn't have been a reckless fight if the leader, now named One-eyed Joe in Sylar's book, didn't take such risk by attacking Novalie behind her back. The sworn protector hurried his way, killing off his last opponent then grabbed Joe's dagger in his hand. Blood slowly dripped on to his arm towards the ground. With his free hand, Sylar punched him straight in the face. Joe stumbled backwards before deciding that escape was better than death, the target can wait at another time.

"I told you..." Novalie started right after the leader left, her eyes avoiding the cut on his hand, "I can handle myself." Even when she walked away, she felt a pang of pain knowing he got her because of her. She knew that she must not show any weaknesses, and thus she must stay impassive.

"Your father didn't send me." She stopped dead in her tracks. That was new but, new wasn't always better.

"What?"

"I went to find you on my accord. I too know that you can look after yourself, you just need to know that someone also wants to help you stand firmly on your own two feet." They just stood there, letting the wind be the only noise available that moment.

* * *

In the morning, Novalie sat on her bed, thinking of ways for him to leave. Today was the first day and yet, she hasn't progressed one bit. He was different, not like the previous ones who were easy to fool or quick to deceive. She hasn't gotten any information about him either. Was it because they fought off an attack last night or was it because he was just that clever? With a sigh, she decided to postpone her planning until the end of her duties as daughter of Lord Frederic McAlister. Novalie got ready for her daily lessons with Lady E. Her governess would come around at the brink of dawn to imply a natural awakening of one's body. The study hall was a large room with a desk at the front, a variety of musical instruments at the back and a map hung on a wall. The two started with Novalie's needlework, afterwards her writing, then her singing. Soon after, it was morals and social graces. It was very exhausting on her part but this was the only thing she agreed on with her father, much to his delight. They have finally come down to one of the last activities of today's learning. Sylar came in soon after she started singing, something that impressed him up to this day.

"Alright, I shall see if you have truly familiarized yourself with the poem assigned to you." Lady E. stated, ushering Novalie to start whenever. She took a deep breathe before she began.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Though art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

It wasn't because she was familiar with the poem that she knew all the lines. Her deliverance, her tone, her expression and her emotion made it seem as if she knew it by heart. Though, she knew why. It was because she knew what the sonnet was all about. An applause was heard, all eyes on the governess. She wore a smile on her face, something you would only see once in a blue moon.

"Alright. I'll hand out another tomorrow but for now, let us finish today's class with dance," Novalie nodded then noticed her mentor eyeing something. Noticing that it was Sylar, her faced expressed pure shock, "Kind sir, would you mind?"

With no other choice, he stepped forward into view. His hood was brought down, finally revealing the face he'd kept for days. He was young, maybe as young as her. His eyes has a dark blue hue just like the ocean and his ashen blonde hair was disheveled as if he had just woken up. His lips were pale, lighter than his skin. Overall, Sylar would be seen as a noble or a soldier just from his face. He offered his lady a hand to which she took and at the governess cue, they danced the waltz.

"How long were you standing there?" Novalie asked as she took note of the bandaged hand as well as the few faint bruises that littered his face.

"I've stayed long enough to hear you pour your heart out through song," She playfully hit him on his chest. He laughed a bit at her actions, "I apologize though, I was tasked to keep an eye on you."

"I know. And in order to receive your pay, you must do as you are told." Sylar furrowed his eyebrows at her. Was this what she always thought of? That she was being protected only because of money?

"I offered my services to your father at no expense," It was now Novalie's turn, her brows furrowed as curiousity lingered inside her mind, not paying attention to Lady E.'s counting, "I received not a single piece since my arrival."

"Why?"

"Because you cannot put a price on doing something you love."

* * *

"So, how do you plan on getting rid of him again?" A friend of hers questioned

"Joan, for the seventh time, I have no idea," She paced to and fro. It's the third day now and she hasn't made a single plan yet. She was starting to get frustrated, "I don't even know how to start. The boys couldn't get anything about him, said he's not from anywhere near here. How am I going to fight an enemy when I don't even know what to fight with?!"

"Well, you did say that you wanted a challenge," Joan commented as she trimmed a few hedges in the garden, "You were rambling about how easy the rest were so maybe, the universe sent you an impossible one. To make you stop."

"Listen to this, a few days ago he just told me that he took the job for free. W-what does that mean?" Novalie finally stopped, nibbling on her nail as she thought of something, anything.

"It is what it is. Or maybe, he wants something else," She stepped back, admiring her work before she sat on a bench, her full attention now on her miserable friend, "Why don't you go and ask him?"

"No! I am sure he desires something of value. A piece of land or a boon maybe?"

"Try Seyrun. You always know what to do after you visit him." As if by miracle, she lightened up then abruptly sat down.

"But, it's been so long! I shouldn't." Joan picked her up, pushing her off.

"You should. Now, go"

* * *

The woods was quieter than she last remembered, but that was ten years ago. A small smile crept onto her face as she reminisce about the days she would pester Seyrun into playing with her or the times that she'd spar with him. Arriving at a clearing, all she saw was an abandoned home. Moss littered a few pieces of scattered logs, a number of used weaponry and armory was spread throughout the whole clearing. The old wooden house stood, just waiting to be turned to dust as two ligneous crosses propped besides it. Novalie walked towards the latter, noticing a fresh bunch of white cypress flowers on one cross, the other empty.

"So, you finally came," A voice spoke from the inside the wreckage, she turned around to look.

"Sylar!? W-what are you doing here?" She backed away. The said man holding a bouquet of Zinnia and Pink Carnations.

"Me? I live here" Silence grew, making Novalie a bit more uncomfortable than a few seconds ago.

"What!?!" She blurted out as he placed the flowers on the empty plot.

The two sat down at a makeshift bench just outside the house. Trying to maintain composure, she shifted her gaze elsewhere. Sylar's mind, on the other hand, trailed off to somewhere else. His features were still the same as he had been the other day though, slightly tired. Yesterday, he had spent his whole day fixing up the mess he calls home, up until her arrival.

"What are you doing here, exactly?" Asked Novalie, even with his recent answer, she wasn't entirely convinced.

"I told you. I live here," She laughed a bit to which he found a bit odd.

"Impossible. A friend of mine lives here and I haven't seen you at that time so--" Sylar cut her off. He was about to ask a question that pained him along with its memory.

"You never knew?" She shook her head a bit then paused, rummaging her brain for something she had missed. Seyrun didn't told her that they needed to move nor any hint about it. And with a simple gesture like that, he knew she never did, "Ten years ago, a rebel group waged war against the master of the house.."

"Lord Seymus," Novalie answered, he smiled at the name before frowning again.

"The group wanted intel on the seven keys of Pax but the lord forbade them. So, they attempted to take it from him by force. Seyrun as the eldest, tried to help his father and protect his mother and sibling. It didn't last and got himself knocked out. Lady Syla fared no better, with a child that needed to be kept hidden, she was killed in battle, a stab to the stomach. Lord Seymus noticed this and shouted her name, but he himself was attacked from behind. The rebels looted the house for information, left and burned it down. With his dying strength, he crawled his way over to his wife and held her close. The child couldn't do anything but do as he was told, carry his brother to safety and to never look back."

"What was it? The information?" She asked, curiousity getting the best of her.

"That you would lead the coven and use the keys against the order." He responded, his eyes locked on to hers.

"Why me? And how come you know all of this?" Novalie stood up, gaining a large amount of distance between her and Sylar, "How should I know that you're not one of the rebels?"

"You know, mom always told me that I was so much attracted to Freesias," He informed her suddenly.

"What does that got to do with all of this?!" And at that moment, he looked at her. His hair was still a mess and in the bright morning sunlight, he looked more handsome and more human than she'd ever seen. Not like he wasn't one to begin with.

"I guess I'm asking you to trust me," He said.

"I still don't know if I should," The two stared at each other for a short while, until she remembered what she came here for, "Wait, where's Seyrun now?"

Sylar battled with himself in his mind. He was told not to mention any information regarding location. He knew she needed him the most, ever since then and yet, here he was taking over to what he thought was his brother's job. He was helpless, only relying on what little his father had taught him and on so much lessons his mother had shown. Still, it was his choice that mattered.

"I... That I cannot say," He turned around, facing her would only prove difficulty.

"And why not?! I need to see him!" It was true. She only came to see him, not Sylar.

"Only time will tell," She eyed him angrily, though not with her usual anger, "Besides, he can't help you against me." Afterwards, he stood and went inside his childhood home.

* * *

"To trust or not to trust, that is the question," Novalie mimicked Hamlet. It had been a few weeks since then, yet what he said struck her. She had been pacing back and forth for an hour or two, her mind filled with doubt and questions. A while later came a man, his garbs were tattered and covered in blood. Alongside him, Sylar stood, sweat dripped down his face as his usual hood was not covering him anymore, "What's all this?"

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"Y-your father... He..." The lad couldn't get the words out and was asked to take a breather. The protector, on the other hand, rushed for the door and screamed out for Joan's presence, "Your father, I'm afraid, was ambushed by an unknown group. Most of our men were badly wounded and was killed in action." He couldn't look at her straight in the eyes, he knew the depths of her anger.

"What do you mean ambushed? Where is he?!" Then Novalie grabbed her own sword and marched away, "Don't bother, I'll go to him myself!" Sylar heard this and stood his ground, arms extended.

"You can't," He told her.

"Get out of my way or I'll kill you," She unsheathed the sword and pointed the tip at him. He didn't move a muscle nor flinched. He was willing to give up his life at that moment but not ready to leave his post and break his promise to Lord McAlister, "I swore to my mother that I'd take care of him and I'm not letting you or anyone else stop me!"

"And I pledged to keep you from harm's way," Tension arose as the atmosphere grew heavy, "The enemy's bound to turn up at any moment. If you go out there right now, everything that Lady Elizabeth fought for would be in vain!"

"What's mother got to do with any of this?" He kept silent, battling with his thoughts yet again. Joan rushed inside the room, sensing Novalie's seething anger, she kept her distance.

"Sylar, what is it?" She asked the young lad.

"Prepare her bags. We're facing a red flag, her safety comes first," She nodded, grabbed the survivor then left the two.

"I'm asking you, what's mother got to do with all of this?!" She shouted, his attention returned back to her. He sighed in defeat.

"Lady Elizabeth gave birth to the Coven in hopes of finding a different solution other than war. She believed in peace but The Order wanted power. That is why they took your father. They thought that your mother told him what she has hidden when it was you who knows everything," Sylar explained, his hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, they won't kill him, not yet anyways. Because they'll use you against him first."

Novalie's grip on her sword slipped, the metallic object dropped on solid ground with as much noise as possible, "How can I know what I don't?"

"Only time will tell," He repeated the same words he told her weeks ago.

Joan came back with a small luggage. She gave it to her lady, stating that everything she needed is inside. Just then, one of the windows broke, surprising everyone in the room. It was soon followed by a ringing sound and fire emerging from the affected furniture. Novalie couldn't hear much as a high pitch still resounded in her ears. Sylar picked up her sword, gave it to her and pushed them outside the room.

"Get her to the tunnels. Send the signal afterwards, I'll buy you some time," He unsheathed his sword, stance ready, "Now go!!"

Joan dragged Novalie out and hurried downstairs towards the cellar. There, the servant moved the loosed bricks from the fireplace, revealing a small wooden door. She ushered Novalie, glancing back for anyone passing by.

"Joan, come on!" She called for her friend who shook her head

"I'm sorry, this is as far as I go," She furrowed her brows at her words, "Just follow the path and it'll lead you to the crypt, don't leave until he comes by to get you," She started to pick up a few bricks

"What do you mean? I don't understand..." Joan stopped, her eyes wet from the newly formed tears

"Don't ever look back, okay? Bad things happen when you do," She sniffed a bit before smiling brightly at Novalie, "It was nice working for you, miss. You're a great friend"

With that , she closed the door despite her protests. As soon as she heard Joan leave with everything in place, she dropped. Now, she has nothing. Alone, like ten years ago. Abandoned, like the day her mother died, with her father drowning himself in work to distract him from the grief.

Sylar was left alone in the fiery room, he made his way outside. As he did, he faced a few of the enemy's men. Anyone who charged at him only acquired death while he received not a single scratch. His anger was nearing its edge. He was mad that he allowed her father to be captured. He was mad that he had let her roam the tunnels on her own. He was mad at himself. Outside, he saw a considerable amount of men, all with a weapon in hand. It was a fight against him and an army.

"Father, please guide over me" Sylar raised his sword above his chest, whispering a few prayers to his family, "Mother, Seyrun, watch and protect Novalie for me. She needs it more than I do."

At the signal of the enemy's army leader, a battlecry echoed throughout. They ran towards him and in the background, the McAllister household slowly burned in flames as a red smoke arose through the chimneys. The battle commenced.

War would always be mankind's fall.