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New Reality: 14th of July 1525, near Paris

Fireworks shone brightly over the dark of the night. Paris was not yet the city of lights, but that was a good omen it was meant to become one. Lampposts and sewage were in the works.

"Francis outdid himself… " Despite the laudative words, Salvatore was annoyed, pouting, and crossing his arms.

"What do you mean?" Ardent asked. He failed to understand why the man from the future didn't like the light show. It was spectacular, on all accounts.

"Picking the Fourteen of July as a National Holiday? In the main reality, it celebrates a revolution that ended with the beheading of the king and the queen... Oh, I see an old acquaintance, please excuse me." The older man sketched a salute and lost himself among the guests.

Ardent shrugged, sipping from his glass of wine in silence. Soon, the last colored sparks vanished from the sky, and the crowd dispersed in the park, eating, dancing, or gossiping. Some discussions were about him… he could feel their eyes, almost like a monster with a thousand hands touching him.

Taking with him a plate of snacks and another glass of wine, he took refuge in a dark corner, sitting on a bench tucked into an ivy alcove. He ate slowly, then relaxed, dozing off until the silence woke him up better than the noises. The rumors of the party subsided to allow the king to speak. Francis announced a musical moment, but Ardent missed the details, or rather, he forgot them instantly, Composer names meant little to him.

There was a row of applauses, then a voice started to sing in a clear and sweet tone. The song was so beautiful Ardent stretched himself to peek over the crowd. His heart skipped a beat. The woman singing was… gorgeous, on all accounts. Thin, yet marvelously shaped, tall, with green-blue eyes and dark blond hair arranged into an elaborate chignon, dressed in a tight red dress that allowed her long legs—crossed, as she accompanied herself on the lute sitting on a stool—display their ivory perfection up to the middle of the thigh.

He couldn't move, his eyes were stuck on her, a silly and blissful smile on his face… For a second, it seemed that she smiled back. Did she notice him? Ardent's pulse accelerated to twice the normal rate. A couple of minutes later, she finished the song and returned the lute to one of the musicians of the band, before walking away.

That's impossible…

The woman's butt, while having all the roundness necessary, was… small. A small butt should not have been sexy—after all, one of Ardent's favorite songs from the smartphone's playlist was 'It's all about that bass'—yet that one was perfect, a living and moving work of art…

He shivered, remembering the woman's face, her perfect lips, full but just as much as needed, tiny delicate ears, a slightly aquiline nose. And such a long, thin neck… and the bosom… medium-sized, full but firm…

"Francis made the whore sing, after all," a voice said, somewhere in his back, hidden by the ivy.

A whore? No, that's no simple prostitute… a courtesan… makes sense. He sighed as he finished his thought, and sat back. Somehow, he was feeling depressed that such a delicate woman was subjected to the whims of rich pricks… But life was hard, everywhere. I wonder what's her story…

He rose and stepped in the direction the woman had taken, earning to see more of her. Two minutes later, he was lost. The party was in a private park on the city's outskirts, a true forest, and only the main alleys had lights. Two loud voices arguing put him on the right path. One was the woman's, he recognized the color, and the other belonged to a man.

"…your answer this night, or else," the latter said and left in a hurry. A dark-haired man, dressed in Renaissance clothes, was all Ardent saw before the other disappeared.

The woman was leaning on a stone railing surrounding one of Mickey's statues, her body shaking from crying. He took a step back, intending to retreat, lying to himself that it was better not to interfere in other people's business. Yet, interfering in other people's businesses was what he did daily, and he couldn't give a fuck about that. That was not the reason behind his indecision.

A knot strangled Ardent's throat, his heart beating hard, knees mollified. Fear was not something he felt often, and yet, he was terrorized at the thought of talking to her. Exactly like when he was fourteen and had a crush on a certain buxomy waitress… Nevertheless, his hesitation didn't last more than a few seconds. What if the woman was in real trouble?

Advancing with slow steps, taking care to announce his presence by dragging his feet through the gravel and clearing his voice, he stopped an arm's length and asked softly: "Are you OK?"

Turning toward him, the woman sighed. "Fate always catches up, no matter what you do… I'm sorry!" she changed her tone and jerked at the last words, evidently regretting revealing her inner thoughts to a stranger. "It's nothing… sorry…"

She turned and ran. Her cheeks were wet, and instinct made Ardent raise his hand to wipe her tears, which would have been a rude gesture, but she was no longer there.

"Fuck…" he swore, balling his fists, then shook his head, looking into the ground, then kicking the gravel. She was in trouble, he was sure now. Jealous patron? A pimp? A debt collector? The best thing to do was to find the man, and extract the information from him, one way or another, and after seeing her cry, Ardent was dead set on the latter. The main problem was that he didn't see the other's face, and didn't remember the clothes either, they were too generic.

The only solution was to find the woman and proceed from there. Returning to the main lawn, he got lucky. She was at the bar, sitting on a high stool and pouring a tall glass of sparkling wine down her throat. That gesture was unfitting for her elegant appearance, for a few seconds, she behaved more like a peasant girl. A pretty lass attracted to the nobles' world of shinnies and riches, selling the only thing she could sell to get in, that was Ardent's conclusion.

That's not good, sweetheart… Drowning your worries in alcohol doesn't help…

[Ardent]: Ana, where are you?

[Ana]: Having fun at the party. It's my free day.

[Ardent]: Can you do me a fa—

[Ana]: Do you know that if I pay somebody else to poison you it doesn't count as Monster to Master violence?

Ardent knew better than to be scared by empty menaces, but he needed somebody reliable for the task he had in mind, so went between some tall bushes and summoned the Mimic.

[Ardent]: Don't talk, people could hear you. Just listen. There's a blonde at the bar. She's in trouble. I want you to stick with her, keeping a low profile. Do you see her?

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

[Meanwood]: Affirmative. My eyes can peek through the bush.

[Ardent]: Follow her. Defend her if she needs it, and call me if you need help.

With that said, he shook his head and decided to invest some time into making acquaintances, the reason he had come to that party. Francis and Salvatore were chatting merrily together with a small group of men and women—Ana was there and frowned at him—but some were leaving, and others were coming in, and he joined.

The King beckoned him, and Ardent approached. Handshakes were exchanged with the men, and he kissed a lot of women's hands. Ardent forgot all the names in seconds, the image of the blonde floating in front of her eyes. He nodded and smiled, politely, saying some yesses or nos by instinct to the stories exchanged around.

[Meanwood]: Trouble. A weird dude came and asked her to talk in private. They're going deep into the woods and he gives me a bad vibe.

"I need to use the bathroom," Ardent said abruptly, leaving the group. Condescending looks followed him, people thinking he couldn't hold his drink, but he didn't care. Activating his mini-map to track his minion, he ran toward Meanwood. A minute later, he arrived at a very small clearing, more of a patch of grass. The blonde was struggling against the man, who was holding her by the wrists, trying to get her down on the ground.

"No, please!" she yelled, but the man didn't seem to care.

Fury filled Ardent's eyes with a red haze.

"Hey, asshole!" he shouted, summoning Meantongue.

Several things happened in very short succession. Ardent used his minion like a whip and cut both the man's arms at the elbows. A fraction of a second afterward, freed, the woman grabbed the long hairpin keeping together her chignon and thrust it into the attacker's chest. The man collapsed on the grass, trashing his legs once and then remaining still. The blonde began crying, covering her face with her hands.

[Meanwood]: She got him in the heart.

[Ardent]: Thanks, Captain Obvious.

Stepping forward, he addressed the woman. "Are you hurt?... Oh, fuck!" he blurted, rushing to catch her in his arms as she fainted. "What the hell?"

Her veins were starting to change color, covering her skin with a thin black network. At the same time, the corpse at their feet and the separated hands were bleeding smoke instead of blood and were turning into a black pool of ooze.

Carrying the blonde, Ardent Shadow Stepped sixty feet away and turned around to verify if they were out of the smoke's range.

[Ardent]: Ana, I need you HERE, NOW! Somebody has been poisoned, and I need an antidote.

The Dryad appeared in just a couple of seconds, startling Ardent.

"How the hell did you do that?" Ardent blurted.

"I can teleport via trees. And unlike others, can read a minimap. Put her down."

Gently resting the woman on a patch of moss and grass, Ardent made way for the Dryad. Kneeling and opening the woman's mouth, Ana poured a potion into it, holding the head so she could swallow easier. "That should do the trick. Who's she?"

"I don't know… A nasty dude assaulted her, and some smoke splurted out of him when he died."

"S-smoke?" Ana stuttered.

"And turned into that," Ardent pointed back at the puss.

"God protect us!" she gasped, crossing herself. "A Dark Draconic… A thrall or you wouldn't be alive to tell the tale."

"How do you know so much about Dark Draconics?"

Hissing, Ana took him by the lapels, shaking him. "You ordered me to research them, idiot! Because you were too lazy."

"I did that?" Ardent widened his eyes. "Good for me."

"You're hopeless… Burn the remains, or they'll infect more people. Go! I'll take care of her. She looks like she needs a second potion."

[Ardent]: Meanwood, keep your eyes peeled, let me know if anyone else approaches.

[Meanwood]: Was doing just that, but I will put more diligence in it now, Master.

Ignoring the Mimic's sarcasm, Ardent returned to the crime scene, took out Dragon from storage, and ordered him to burn the remains. Fortunately, the horse could activate Firebreath even in his normal shape and did the job in no time. A few dried branches on the ground caught fire, but Ardent stomped them and stopped the flames from spreading.

"How is she?" he asked, returning to Ana and the woman.

"Better, but still not good," Ana shook her head. "Dark Draconic magic poisons the soul and the mind… I think he was trying to turn her into another thrall, not rape her."

"I think he was doing both," Ardent frowned, recalling the scene.

On the grass, the blonde woman was sweating profusely, moaning and shivering. The dark color of her veins had receded but was still visible. She looked so fragile and pretty at the same time that Ardent's mind short-circuited trying to find words to describe her beauty. "Have you tried Healing?" he asked, trying to mask his emotions.

"I'm an alchemist by job, don't have heals. I gave her two High-Quality Cleanse potions. That's the maximum dose, another one will kill her," Ana said. "That kind of dark magic is truly a nasty thing… I'd say she has a fifty-fifty chance. Maybe Donatello could—"

"He's unreachable, vaccinating the Amazon tribes," Ardent bit his lower lip. "Never mind, it's time for the big guns." Saying that he put his hand on the woman's forehead, caressing her hair and willing a Fate Point to heal her for good.

You have activated Divine Rejuvenation using a Fate Point. One use only. This spell is normally restricted to you due to a Trade-off in the School of Healing Magic.

Serious poisoning and corruption were detected. Type: Dark Draconic. One Fate Point will not be enough to deal with this type of toxin. Do you want to use a second Fate Point for one application of Supreme Grade Purify?

"As many as necessary," he said with conviction. The spell continued to work, and within a minute, the dark color disappeared from the woman's skin. The shivers ceased and she started to breathe regularly.

"She's waking up, do you want me to hang around?" Ana asked.

"No, thanks, go back to the party."

"Find out more about the Dark Draconic," Ana said.

Hey, who's the boss here? Ardent thought but the Dryad had already disappeared. Two seconds later, the blonde opened her eyes. "It's all right, I'm a friend," he told the woman, trying not to appear threatening and offering her a hand. "You fainted."

"I… remember… You helped… Oh, my God! Did I kill him?" the blonde remembered all of a sudden. Widening her eyes in horror, she tried to get up, fall back, then rise with Ardent's help. "I didn't mean to!" she rushed to say, kneading her hands. "I swear… please don't tell—"

"It was self-defense," Ardent tried to calm her. "Don't worry, I will testify."

"They won't believe it," she pleaded, searching his eyes. "Please… A bandit could have done it… a thief… Please…"

"I already disposed of the body," Ardent grabbed her hand, as she sketched a movement to run away. "Trust me, I won't let anyone hurt you." The last words, he said with a feverish intensity. She was shaking a lot and almost lost her grip, he had to squeeze his fingers around hers. Long and warm… even her fingers were enticing.

She stopped and looked into his eyes for a long moment. Finally, she nodded and relaxed.

"Thank you, knight Ardent… I'll accept your help and guidance from now on."

"You know who I am?"

"Everybody knows who you are," she giggled. "May I ask you to escort me home? I'll pack my things and leave for Flandres first thing in the morning. Even without a body, his absence will be noticed, they'll know I'm involved."

"Who's they?" he frowned.

"You know," she shrugged. "His party… They're dangerous people."

Why does everyone suppose I know everyone around here, Ardent sighed on the inside. "Very well, I'll accompany you to your home."

"I have a carriage," she said, looking around and sweeping leaves and dirt from her dress as best as she could. In the distance, the party's lights were showing them the good direction to go, but it was clear she was still too weakened to walk back. Dragon was still around, in his horse form. Ardent called the steed to him and helped the blonde to get up in the saddle, sideways, taking the reins and walking in front.

Ten minutes later, they were back in the main park. A meadow behind a small palace was filled with carriages. The woman's transport was at the southern end. Ardent helped her down this time. On both occasions, feeling her waist in his hands felt… surreal. She was so light… yet so… he shivered.

"We're going home, Thomas," she gently said, waking up an elderly man. The coachman opened his eyes, resting them first on her, then on Ardent. "Thank goodness," he sighed after that.

"Go ahead, I'll follow you on my horse," Ardent said.

Taking his steed, he followed the couch, keeping guard. There were no events on the way, and the trip was about half an hour long. A row of villas, not so big to be home to the rich, but nice enough to host the wealthy, waited on the other side of the forest. The coach stopped in front of the most isolated one, a pretty house with a large garden.

Ardent approached the carriage, offering his hand to help the blonde down. He was about to ask if he could sleep in the garden, to keep watch, when she spoke first.

"Do you wish to… stay for the night?" she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

"I do…" he whispered back after a short hesitation, and then she grasped his hand, pulling him inside.