Lycoris cautiously walked up the stairs, hoping to give his eyes time to adjust to the darkness… until he realized that it was unnecessary. He could see just fine even in low-light conditions now.
Confirming once more on his mother’s phone that Athena was still inside, he put his hand to the doorknob. As expected, the door was locked. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any lockpicks on hand, nor was he sure if door tumblers in Ljosdeyja would be the same as back in Dauwen. Considering how much more advanced everything else was in the Vampire city, he doubted his decades-old urchin tricks would work. Maybe Tatyana would’ve been able to come up with a spell for it, but he never wanted to see her face again.
Although… I guess I’ll have to if I want to make her pay for her crimes… But now’s not the time to get distracted.
He put the phone away and shook off the simmering resentment clinging to his gut. Following his training, he emptied his mind as best he could in order to draw his scythe from within. Slowly, carefully, he…
…Stabbed himself in the hand.
“Ow!”
He looked down in confusion. His nails had dug into his palm.
He’d failed.
Taking a deep breath, he tried again. And again. And again.
A couple failures was to be expected, but after several minutes, each failure caused his worry to creep higher and higher up his back. He stared at the door, momentarily wondering why he’d even come out here. Every single part of this scheme had gone wrong in some way, past leaving the section of palace he’d called home… but he was standing right at the finish line all the same.
“…”
The door was made of simple wood. It didn’t matter if Lycoris was unarmed or not. He could tell there was nobody waiting on the other side; they would've come to check when he yelped in pain if there was. All he had accomplished was waste a bunch of time pointlessly inflicting pain on himself, when he could’ve simply kicked the door down.
His attempts to draw his scythe was just time-wasting, an excuse to keep him from pushing open the door. He was hesitating, just like before… just like he always did.
Shaking away the dark thoughts, he kicked the door with all his might, snapping it straight off the hinges and sending countless splinters tumbling into the unlit office.
Inside, shelves were pressed up against the walls, all lined with rows of binders; potted plants sat tucked in the corners to add a touch of color; and the only light entering the room was cast upon the desks, sofa, and chairs, which had all been pushed toward the windows covered in cheap plastic blinds.
However, one chair had been pointedly set in the center of the room; upon it sat a haggard looking woman, her messy blue hair hung in front of her drooped face, obscuring the details from Lycoris. She was wearing the same style of civilian clothing as Emma and Seraphine, though her well-tailored dress was stained with flecks of blood and grime.
She didn’t move or make a sound, even after he’d loudly announced his entrance with the door.
“Athena!”
Even after shouting her name, the woman didn’t respond.
Lycoris rushed over and immediately put a finger to her neck, checking for a pulse. If it was present, it was weak. He put his head to her chest to listen for her breath, but… obviously there was none. His heart throbbed painfully, his over-taxed fatigued nerves fraying to their limits by seeing her in such a pitiful state.
This wasn’t the first time he’d ever rescued a hostage, but in spite of his familiarity with the situation, he couldn’t steady himself. He knew panic would do no good in this situation, but…
“This is decidedly not the time to be acting like a child. Come on Lycoris, get it together… She’s still alive, you can just carry her out of—”
“Well well well, what do we have here?”
Sauntering in through the doorway that Lycoris had "discreetly" opened, a lanky man garbed in rolled-up silk sleeves and gaudy finery leered at him, his bright yellow eyes illuminated in the darkness.
Seeing him menacingly flash his fangs, Lycoris felt emboldened rather than unnerved. It was almost stereotypically vampiric behavior. This was familiar territory, a familiar enemy; something that he’d cut down time and again.
Lycoris stood up straight and locked eyes with the intruder. Though… he was the actual intruder in this situation.
No sooner did their eyes meet than the man’s widened in surprise, his mouth hanging slightly agape.
“What… do we have here?” he repeated to himself, sounding genuinely baffled.
“What’s wrong Alben, it’s just a girl.”
Another man entered and pushed past Alben, garbed in similar clothes but far broader in shoulder. In his hand was an L-shaped rod with glowing amber runes etched on a heptagonal barrel—a vampiric firearm.
Only, when he staggered a half-step forward in astonishment, Lycoris realized something strange must have happened. He reached up and lightly touched his hair, realizing that his hood had either slipped off when he kicked down the door, or when he rushed to Athena’s side.
“‘Just a girl,’” Alben mimicked back derisively, “the fuck kinda bait did we use to snag… her?”
“N-No chance that’s actually Her Majesty… … …Right? The fuck does she care about some random maid? And why would she come herself? It’s probably a disguise, like that uh… what those snakes do.”
“Aposematic mimicry’s what you’re thinkin’ of.”
“Yea, thanks.”
“…Then who the fuck is she?”
The brute raised his firearm toward Lycoris, sea-blue eyes narrowing. “Let’s see if she’s willing to answer herself.”
“You know if she really is Her Majesty, you’re fuckin’ dead Renauld.”
“Shut the hell up, your ass wouldn’t be gettin’ out of this either. Besides, she's tiny.”
Lycoris’ attention shifted to the rod, keeping a close eye on the runes. It looked significantly shorter than the type he was more familiar with, but he knew to feel for a pulsation as a sign of its magic activating. That was when he’d have to evade.
Should I try and pretend to be Mom again? They seem pretty suspicious though, what if they don’t believe me? …No, wait. There’s a much more fundamental problem here.
“Did you do this?” he asked cautiously, stepping away from Athena while maintaining a fixed distance from the pair of monsters.
Yes, monsters. That’s what they were. And anyone who would do this to an innocent person deserved just one thing.
Lycoris' pupils contracted.
The monster named Alben winced. “Y-Yeah, what’s it to you? Huh? Answer the man’s question.”
Death.
That was what these two deserved. That was what they’d earned. He would make an example of them.
The pair of men stared in shock as they watched him shove one hand “inside” the other as he grasped onto the image of his scythe. Envisioning out he’d split them from crown to groin, he slowly began pulling his weapon out.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Kid, I asked you a question.”
“The fuck’s she doing, Renauld?”
“Hell if I know, looks like some fancy noble-girl magic-y shit. HEY, KID!”
Renauld punctuated his shout with a warning shot, the heat from the mote of fire zipping right past Lycoris’ ear as it struck the table behind him and sizzled out.
Regrettably, hatred was a fickle and fleeting focus, and the loud rapport of the gun along stinging heat of its projectile startled him out of his momentary zeal. The tenuous shape of his weapon slipped through his fingers, the azure ichor splashing onto the ground.
“Hweh…?” Lycoris let out an awkward cry and took his own half-step back.
He scrambled as he made to try again, but the only phenomenon he managed was a flare of pain in his palm as his nails dug into his already-mending flesh. He tried to find his earlier anger, but all he found was mounting concern as he suddenly found himself facing off against two foes more than twice his size, bereft of his weapon.
To make matters worse, another pair of vampires entered behind Alben and Renauld upon hearing the gunshot, both seeming to have already grasped the situation. Most likely, they’d been listening from outside.
Lycoris reached for his hip as a nervous tic, only to find his belt, pouches, and scabbard missing. All his hand touched was the pocket with his mother’s phone. As great of a swordsman as he’d been, the knight required a sword to fight; or a knife; or, failing even that, a smokescreen of some sort to at least escape.
His opponents were four armed and menacing vampires. Creatures born to kill and feast on humans.
And Lycoris was just a single, unarmed… little girl.
Why can’t… I move…? Were they always that big? What do I do!?
Her knees buckled as long-suppressed fear mingled with the panic crushing her heart. She’d completely overestimated her own capabilities, again. She’d only wanted to do the right thing. She wanted to save someone who’d shown her kindness. Was that so wrong? Why was she punished time and again for doing what she ought to?
To return kindness with kindness, contempt with compassion, and cruelty with justice was at the core of the Goddess’ teachings. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was a capable soldier, once; she was a teacher; she was pious, she never strayed from her path.
She just… wanted to prove that she wasn’t a monster.
“Fawaris… M-Mizar…” Lycoris fell to her knees and hugged herself, hands wrapped around the locket.
With her behavior having completely shattered any illusion that Lycoris was her mother, the four vampires grew emboldened.
The leers returned to their faces as the situation fell back into familiar territory for them, the group fanning out around her as they marched around the office and looked around to see what she’d done—if anything.
“Ho–ly shit. Boss, get a look at this.”
“Eek!”
Renauld walked up crouched down beside Lycoris, roughly tearing off the hair ornament that she’d used to tie her hair up. It slowly draped down her back as he held up the glittering blue trinket.
“That’s… the Aphtangloa Dynasty’s crest. But…”
“Hey hey, doesn’t that mean this thing is… like… worth infinite money?”
“But there’s no way this kid is Her Majesty. Just… I mean, look at her!”
All three of the other men froze in place as they stared at the glimmering blue brooch. The one holding the nail bat walked over to Renauld and gingerly took the brooch out of the brute’s hand, letting out a low whistle as he brought it up to his eye.
“It’s authentic all right… Not that anyone would be stupid enough to try and make a forgery of the Exaltare’s property in the first place…” He placed his bat against Lycoris’ chin and gently tilted her head up. “What kinda dumbass kid would try cosplayin’ as Her Majesty though? And where'd she even get something like this?”
“She’s been real tight-lipped. But it's pretty obvious she came for the maid, yeah?” asked Renauld.
“You think Her Majesty has a secret kid or something? I mean, she does kinda look like her,” the unnamed knife-juggler suggested.
“Dumbass! Everyone knows the Exaltare can’t have kids, that’s why the Seven go through their hoity-toity selection ceremony during Moonsend every few thousand years,” Alben grumbled in frustration.
“Huh, so that’s why we get that week off every year…” the knife-grunt mumbled in the background.
“You stupid— I don’t give you time off! You admittin’ to skipping work?” The boss glowered at him.
“Ugh, none of you have any sense of culture.” Alben shook his head in dismay.
“Yeah? Alright then, sounds like our resident scholar just nominated himself for figuring out who the hell this kid actually is,” The boss shot back as he walked over to Alben by the windows, dumping the still-warm hair ornament in his hand.
“Heh. Sure thing boss. It’ll be light work finding out if she’s any more talkative than the maid.”
Lycoris shivered as she looked toward Athena, her eyes drawn to the bruises and cuts all over her. Fear that she’d suffer the same fate, and regret that she could do nothing to deliver vengeance to these beasts deserving of death, welled up inside her trembling body.
But at least, perhaps, she could still complete her original objective and save the maid. Frail-hearted courage sprouted inside her chest.
Wasn’t this what she wanted? Didn’t she want to find somewhere to escape this cursed existence?
…
“I-I-I’ll… talk. But,” Lycoris pointed toward Athena with a trembling finger, “you have to promise to let her go.”
All four men turned to her in surprise, perhaps having assumed she’d passed out with her eyes open or something.
Unfortunately, not a single one looked like they cared to entertain her words.
“Promise, huh? How about a different promise, girlie,” Alben walked over and crouched down, waving a pocketknife in her face as he growled, “Tell us who you are, who sent’cha, ‘n who this maid is to ya, and maybe I won’t carve out your pretty li’l eyes. But don’t go thinkin’ for a second that you got any room t’negotiate with—”
“Wait, hold up a sec.”
“Huh?”
The boss cut Alben off as he held up his hand, heading straight for the door. He’d been looking out the window a moment ago. At the same time, Renauld leaned over one of the tables to peer through the blinds.
“Need me to go with?”
“Wait here. Seems we’re real popular with the ladies tonight.”
All of them shared a wide and wicked grin.
Lycoris looked up and around nervously. Who in the world had come to—a small gasp slipped out of her mouth.
It couldn’t be Emma and Seraphine, could it!?
If the two of them had noticed that she’d gone up some shady stairwell, and then a group of men followed… Maybe they were coming to help?
But they were just civilians! Sure Seraphine mentioned having soldier training but… If they came here, Lycoris would’ve endangered even more people. Though, she’d already done that much simply by being around them in the first place—to say nothing of the danger they faced knowing who she looked like.
Interrupting her thoughts, Lycoris heard a choking gasp echo from the stairwell outside.
Oh no! “P-Please wait! Don’t hurt them, please! I’ll do any—”
She didn’t even have time to finish pleading, as the limp body of the group’s boss flew back into the room, landing atop the shattered splinters of door in a broken heap.
The thug closest to the entrance turned to rush over to him, only for a straight sword to strike him square in the temple and gruesomely pin his body to the opposite wall. Lycoris immediately recognized the crimson winged tassel swaying from its pommel.
But confusion quickly followed as she saw the figure holding the matching blue-rose tasseled sword. Instead of her mother, it was a woman with rose-gold hair and light pink eyes, in a dark black tracksuit with a newsboy cap perched atop her head.
Her eyes burned with a cold fury. The moment she saw Alben crouched down in front of Lycoris, she closed the distance in a single step. Lycoris couldn’t even follow the swing as her blade smoothly separated his head from his shoulders.
A second step brought her in front of Renauld by the windows. Before he could even raise his firearm, two quick slashes tore into his bulk, and a graceful final thrust smoothly slid the blade up through his chin.
The instant the gorilla’s body could hit the floor, Lycoris felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind.
“Are you unhurt, Lycoris?” Her voice was all-too-familiar, though it carried a slight huskiness.
And, there was only one person who could do… that. “Mo…m?”
But, if she came here, then surely she’d be furious with Lycoris. The girl didn’t even want to imagine what sort of punishment the Exaltare had in store for her. Sure, she’d been patient and lenient with Lycoris’ outbursts up until then, but this was far more serious than just a bout of culture shock. She’d put her own life, and the possible future of the entire Empire, at risk.
“I-I’m sorry, I just… I didn't mean… I wanted—”
A gloved finger gently pressed against her lips. The woman slowly opened up Lycoris’ hands, and in her palms placed the recovered hair brooch.
“Save your words, little one. My name is Rosa.”
“…Huh?”