Lumière tore through the darkness within the lower borough, Cecilia trailing quickly behind him. The screeches of the living Nameless creature echoed through Etten-Leur, alarming those of the lower floors of the monster within.
The citizens of Leiden had grown used to the rumours of danger that lurked within the night. That was why if one was to walk through the night, they wouldn’t do so alone, and most chose not to do so at all. However, that danger became quite clear as they all heard the roars of the inhuman on that night.
With a grin on his face, Lumière ascended up the flowering steps leading to the middle borough, his body’s innate speed amplified by the fear absorption from the fallen Nameless. It was as wide as the flowered path itself, tearing up sediment and petals into the air as its dozen limbs cracked the walls of the path. Its eyes had sunken in, leaking a thin stream of blackish-red miasma down its pale cheeks.
It resembled a ghost, an undead creature of flesh and blood.
“Are you ready to let the world know of the danger that these beasts impose on them!?” Lumière called out to Cecilia, his face a mixture of craziness and confidence. His ego flourished, the idea of ‘performance’ churning in his mind.
“Have you fallen to the madness of your domain, heretic!?” Cecilia chirped in response, catching up beside him.
While it was the night of their attack on the Nameless living on the Eighteenth Floor of Etten-Leur, two weeks had passed since his last meeting with the Madame, Estte Van Claudia. This meant that it was also the night of his final performance at the show hall, and he was entitled to make it memorably great.
His shows would draw hundreds of spectators, gaining audience of thousands of eyes. He was sure that Leiden would become acutely aware of the Nameless if he were to present one to them.
So, he continued to lead the beast through the middle borough, down the main road until he reached the Show Hall.
Because it was his final performance, everyone was to be there. The White Roses, consisting of Ainsworth, Ramses, Midas, and Cornifer were there. The attendant of the Show Hall, Clementine Lavant was also in attendance. However, the crux of his plan was the presence of the Mythos Garden- Capulet, Laertes, Lysander, and Shylock.
They were the ones that would bring chaos to the Show Hall, culminating in his final performance.
=== Inside the Show Hall in the middle borough. ===
“Laertes, can you divine the outcome using that woman sitting down there?” Cartwell asked Zelia.
The four members of the Mythos Garden stood atop the rafters of the Show Hall, looking down at the audience that had gathered to watch the final performance of the well-renowned magician, Lumière Croft.
Zelia and Cartwell had previously returned to Leiden the day previous, using the rail system that stretched across the entire continent. Juno had remained in his estate in the middle borough, and needed not travel far. Nicole had come to the Show Hall alongside the White Rose team, but had made up an excuse to be apart for them for a time.
“I can do that. However, if I end up seeing horrific sights once more, will you take responsibility for asking me to do so?”
Cartwell shook his head, joking. “It was one time. Isn’t it natural for a man and a woman to lie together?”
“Yes, but to spy on such a thing through divination seems wrong.”
Regardless of her past experiences, what Zelia truly feared was divining someone similar to One of Spades, the host of a Demon. She had come to realise that she had tried to peer into the very being of a terrifyingly powerful creature, and that the mistake she had made that day could have cost her life.
Cartwell held up a thin flask of chemicals, retrieved from his briefcase, smirking as he looked down at Zelia.
“If my Lady does not wish to see such a sight, then perhaps she should divinate with her eyes closed.” Cartwell teased, almost goading her into the idea.
“I don’t need you to mock me, Lysander.” Zelia replied in an annoyed tone. She grasped at his hand, pulling the flask close to her nose as she breathed in the fumes, her eyes rolling back as she entered an unconscious state. She fell back against Cartwell, always at her side prepared to support her. Her target was a random member of the audience, presumed to be a non-magic user, assuming that the divination would be successful.
Zelia’s consciousness was plunged into a hazy world of illusory mist, where echoes of memories and murmurs of past, present, and future sayings overlapped, repeating endlessly as she fished for the correct strand of fate. Those echoes stretched endlessly into the mist- the representation of possibility, of history. Those strands that represented each occurrence were like thin threads, tangled up in a confusing manner.
Divination was akin to deciphering fate, the cryptic code of the future’s happenings, the recorded echoes of the past, and the ongoing memories of the present. To an astrologist, this was a matter of finding the right ‘strand’ of fate that connected to the not-so-distant present, a future that would occur only a few moments afterward. To pry too far in either the future or the past was an aggrievance against fate, and fate did not like to be tampered with.
To find a single happening, to divine the correct possibility that would either spell imminent danger or success for the Mythos Garden was a tall task. However, that was always the case for a divination.
Zelia wasted no time, grasping at the illusory strands within the mist. With nimble, agile fingers, she began to weave the strands, untangling the mess of past, present, and future echoes that they represented. She saw that the woman had lost her job the month prior, been abandoned by her husband the week before, the breakfast she had eaten the morning of the present day, and that tragedy would strike her the week following.
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She tried desperately to ignore the past and the future, wary of angering the whims of fate, whom she knew to be cruel and vindictive, and pushed those strands of possibility aside. Zelia focused solely on the present, aware of how she would locate what she had been looking for specifically.
For the ‘present’, it could only be considered as a period of a couple of days. Anything preceding or following that two-day period would be considered the past or the future. That meant that the ‘past’ and ‘future’ sections of the strands of possibility were far more vast in number than the present. However, due to her relatively-low level of arising into the cursed domain of Astrology, the distance she could see into ones past or future was limited, and so the amount of history’s possibility she had to search through was small, paltry.
‘If Mr. Ophelia called us over here, then it might mean that something dangerous will occur. Moreover, he wanted us to cause chaos and drive the attendants of this Show Hall out of the building. If that’s the case, then this will cause this woman to be fearful. It might even stand out as the day she fears most within the ‘present’ group of possibilities. If that’s the case, I can divinate the outcome of this event easily.’
To an Astrologer who had reached the level of ‘Novice’, the Three of Diamonds, she had gained access to the ability ‘Astralis Empathy’, the ability to detect specific emotions. Activating this, she searched through the present strands of possibility until she found the correct one that pointed to the outcome of their plans. After confirming that it would end safely, she stopped weaving the strands of possibility.
As Zelia sat in a fugue, dreamlike state, Juno ruminated over the matter.
‘Why is it that we were suddenly called to action? Is it the case that Mr. Ophelia expects the interference of the Phantom Syndicate at the Show Hall while One of Spades, Lumière Croft, performs? Or is this the plan of Mr. Croft, and we were called here simply to assist, as he is the beloved host of the Demon of the Garden? Whatever the intent of it may be, it’s sure that tonight will be important.’
Cartwell uncorked a second flask after a certain amount of time had passed, holding it under Zelia’s nose. Life filled her eyes once more, and she snapped back into consciousness.
“The outcome is optimal. Our conditions have been met.” She spoke as she stood back on her feet.
The three others nodded.
Cartwell and Juno placed their hands against their mouths, biting into the thickness of their flesh, blood dripping down their chins as they did so. They inscribed intricate runic markings onto their skin, which lit the markings of the chalice-pupiled eye on their hands a bright emerald colour. The runes gradually disappeared along with their blood, and their faces immediately became obscured by bright-silver half masks.
They extended their hands towards Nicole and Zelia, each having obtained an extra mask for the other through additional transmutation. The two accepted them curiously, slipping them onto their faces. Nicole tried to keep a straight face, but his excitement was obvious, to the extent that it trumped his constant anxiety.
‘Working for Mr. Demon is so cool! I got a codename, and now I get to act as a vigilante in the night, saving people! When Mr. Benedict and all of the White Roses see me, will they even recognise me? I hope not… thank goodness Mr. Shylock and Mr. Lysander are so good at making masks…’
As they turned towards the audience, Nicole raised both of his hands as if conducting them.
“Do your worst, Capulet.” Juno grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Nicole blushed slightly, trying not to become distracted. Controlling the shadows was a tricky endeavour, like leading a marionette by its strings. After all, they were bound to the movements of their host. Moreover, he had become acutely aware that shadows were not necessarily as they seemed to be.
The thought had first started during the attack of Asmodeus in Oost-Souburg. When the Demon of the Garden had commanded Nicole to control the shadows of each Nameless in the horde of creatures, he did not expect them to fall victim to the rampage of silhouettes. He had known of strange things ever since he had been taken by the Phantoms, and so he never discounted the possibility that even stranger things could occur, but it was still terrifying to him.
That the shadows he willed to follow his commands would disobey him so suddenly- that was scary.
“I never thought to ask you, but how far have you arisen into the domain of Black Magic?” Juno questioned as he glanced down at the hard-working boy. He didn’t expect much from the child, as he didn’t look like much.
Nicole gritted his teeth, nearly losing his focus as he quickly spat out an answer.
“Magician.”
The three other’s eyes widened, coming to the same conclusion.
‘The sixth degree? Doesn’t that make him the strongest in the Mythos Garden, apart from One of Spades and Mr. Ophelia?’
—-
Suddenly, as he overlooked the Show Hall from the rooftop of an opposing building, Lumière watched as hundreds of people began to flood out of its entrances, coalescing in the street below.
His straight-face turned into a maniacal grin. He immediately recognised several people in the audience. The White Roses in their bright-white uniforms were obvious, but so was Clementine Lavant, the attendant of the Show Hall, whose image he had burned into the annals of his mind after seeing her so many times throughout his career.
Then, he saw the members of the Mythos Garden standing apart from him on the Show Hall’s rooftop.
‘Are you ready to witness greatness?’ His mind churned at the thought of the performance that would occur. He glanced back towards Cecilia, who had speared Lumière’s blade through the skull of the Nameless creature, silencing it and pinning it to the ground.
As he stood above the crowd, Lumière felt an eerie presence watching over him. It was the same for each member of the Mythos Garden. They became explicitly aware that they were being watched from afar.
‘Have you come to spectate, Phantoms? Do as you wish. I will give you a good show.’ Lumière grinned. ‘Watch the performance of the man that will one day tear you apart.’
Lumière stepped forward to the edge of the roof, allowing the crowd to gaze upon him. He snapped his fingers, alighting the rooftop behind him in silver flame to illuminate his visage.
“My dearest guests! It’s been quite a while since we’ve last seen each other, hasn’t it!?” Lumière called out to them exuberantly.
Noticing his appearance, the hundreds of onlookers gazed up towards the magician they had come to see, surprised. They had expected him within the show hall, not outside of it on top of a completely different building. They had been scared by their own shadows, quite literally, and had run out of the show hall. Those who didn’t see the trickery of Nicole’s handiwork fell to sheepish mentality and fled amongst the rest.
“Tonight will be my last show! I know, it’s been so many years we’ve spent together, and I’ve enjoyed them all to their utmost, but it’s time for me to go. However, don’t be too worried. Tonight, I’ll be sure to cast smiles on your faces. I’ll leave a memory that won’t ever fade!”
On cue, Cecilia pulled the blade out of the skull of the snarling creature.
The lilac moon behind Lumière was immediately enveloped by the silhouette of a horrific beast- the shadow of a monster incomprehensible to the spectators below.
The Nameless opened its jaw wide as it flew through the air, thousands of teeth wrapping around the form of the magician, Lumière Croft, until he was no longer.