Sitting quietly in the rear of the chariot—car, rather; vampires didn’t rely on horses, and knew the “proper” names for things besides—Tatyana crossed her legs, feeling the friction warm her silk stockings as she pouted down toward the magic dataslate—smartphone, in more boring parlance—on the pleather seat beside her. It was a good reminder of just how far their civilization had come.
Not that she was particularly chuffed herself. She had played a dreadfully long and careful game in order to worm her way deep enough to get access to those secrets, capitalizing on the “Human naivete” that she knew the vampires believed she had.
The Idra thought they were stringing her along with promises of ascension, but she had no desire to become a monster like them. She’d already become something far worse, regardless.
The woman closed her eyes and resumed her meticulous ritual, elegantly writing line after line with her crimson-inked fountain pen. It was quite fortunate that the car was such a smooth ride. Despite the lack of paved roads along their current journey, she barely felt the vibrations from the engine, much less any bumps from uneven terrain.
She had to be able to read her handwriting again later for the magic to properly take effect.
After she finished cataloging the prior day’s events—detailed down to the exact hour—she opened her eyes once more and met the chauffeur’s gaze, catching him ogling her curvaceous leotard-clad body.
Or just glaring at her. He looked somewhat irritated, even if he was clearly staring at her chest until she snapped her small black book closed.
“Am I finally allowed to speak, then?”
“Yes, I’ve finished now.”
“Tsk, impertinent human. Just because the Idra’s Speaker has taken you to be his personal pet doesn’t mean that you can boss—”
“This again? How dreadfully boring. Do you not think I’ve heard this very same line touted a hundred thousand times before?”
“And you still haven’t learned your lesson?”
“Well… I’m the one still drawing breath here, darling~” she chuckled demurely, looking out the tinted UV-shielded windows at the junk-filled wasteland beyond.
"Wasteland." That was truly the only word to describe the scenery, as countless hundreds of thousands of years worth of debris and ruin had accumulated and worn down in the arid region. Devices that lost their purpose twisted and fused together into structures that’d long lost any semblance of distinctive identity.
The spires made of ruin—reflecting the masters that’d discarded these tools—blended into the “natural” chalk-gray stone beneath, forming bizarre forests and wide ravines, each pockmarked with cracked screens and bored-open orifices that led to sprawling wire-filled caves. Those naturally artificial caverns, small and massive alike, served as the nests for the lifeless creatures that inhabited these lands.
There was no doubt in her mind that the "Goddess" had cast these lands out of Her sight.
Perhaps something like "Junkyard of Mistakes" or “Kingdom of Trash” would be a more appropriate name for this place, but anything that endured long enough would inevitably be reclaimed by the planet. The corroded machines had certainly taken the place of natural plants and fauna, featureless ruins that they had become.
Massive, textureless pipes and wires snaked about and served as natural barriers guiding their car down a predetermined path. Though unpaved, the “road” they traveled had at least been cleared open by the vulpine Plainstrider scavengers, at the behest of their Vampire overlords.
It was a monument to the Whispers wandering these lands that no actual signs of nature had ever once even begun to take root, as though they reviled the very notion of color existing in their little corner of the world.
“So? You were speaking of… suspension, was it?” Tatyana looked back at the grumbling driver, deciding he needed a little push.
“Ah, yeah! I bet even a human like you can appreciate the quality of these wheels. Those Tamisrah may be stupid toadies clutching Sefer coattails, but I gotta admit, their craftsmanship outdoes even the Geolle,” he immediately began rambling about the car, completely forgetting his irritation.
What a simple fool, no wonder he follows the Speaker’s every word, she thought to herself. “Indeed, I’m quite grateful to have been able to write in my diary without incident. It’d take us far longer if we had to halt our journey each day.”
“Have you ever considered just… not? I mean, s’not gonna matter once you’re a gh— vampire.”
“Only the impatient count their chickens before they hatch.”
“Sure, but we didn’t even do anything important today, just more driving through the wilds… They’ve really been having you go all over the continent for them though, haven’t they? Just what are—”
“If you were meant to know, you would have been told by someone more important than me, darling. And a ritual is only truly such when one follows the precise steps in the exact pattern each time. By slowly, repeatedly etching grooves into the tapestry of reality, a simple action can become a channel through which history flows.”
“What?”
“I don’t like to break my habits, darling~” She tittered at his confusion and tucked her diary back into her ample cleavage.
They’d been traveling together for months now, and she’d clearly worn the vampire down to the point that he no longer tried to pry meaningful answers out of her. He was likely just relieved that she never pushed him for information either—even though they nominally worked for the same man.
It served her quite well, as it meant she had a perfect bumbling fool to lead her everywhere she needed to be, regardless of whether it was for her mission or Cedric’s.
Speaking of, we should be drawing close…
She reached under her obsidian cloak and drew out a dark silk pouch, carefully stroking her thumb against the object contained within.
“Hang a left at the next… Tree? Spire? Whatever you would call that big pillar up ahead.”
“Huh? But we’re almost out of the wastes, that only leads—”
“Boss’s orders, darling. Moonsend is coming up, isn’t it? I hear the Exaltare is preparing something big this year, so we’ve been tasked with setting off some fireworks to cap the year off.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that.”
“Indeed, though something tells me the Whispers might take offense, so best to be quick on the transmission, hm?”
“Heheh, you can count on me, Yana.”
She put the pouch back away and drew her robes around herself. Beneath them, she clicked the rubardium cap back on her pen and twirled the “wand” between her fingers, staring past the reflection of her milky-white eyes to scan the mounds and hills for any signs of movement as they left the main road.
Idly, she thought of her previous group of loudmouthed companions. It was a shame that she had to sacrifice such promising pieces just to win the trust of the greater nobles, but Tatyana had long grown accustomed to such bitter sacrifices. As if that wasn’t the reason she was still here to begin with. And now, no matter what the tyrant had in store, the magician had carefully, methodically arranged the board to Check her.
And of course, not even her current “masters” were aware of the swarm of termites she’d released beneath the game board.
＊ ＊ ＊
If someone had told Emma how her year was going to end, she’d have laughed them out of her apartment and told them to submit their script to a film board.
And yet, after she’d stumbled across the lost little noble daughter, both she and her partner had been subjected to intensive—and entirely off the record—questioning, and then put under near-constant surveillance.
It was obviously to ensure that they didn’t leak anything about Lycoris, but it was mentally taxing to deal with the constant pressure of having eyes on her back. Even though she had no intention of saying a word—to the point that she remained silent during initial questioning, until an agent belonging to the Seven personally stepped in—the knowledge alone made her feel as though she were a single wrong sentence away from being black-bagged and simply vanishing from her family’s lives.
It'd certainly given her a newfound sympathy for the noblegirl. Just imagining the sort of life she must have lived, having to deal with that sort of attention and yellow tape all the time made Emma realize that perhaps, being a regular common citizen was a blessing rather than a curse.
Seraphine seemed to mirror her feelings on the matter, as the bright-eyed girl had returned to her old habits of more sleepless nights, mumbling to Emma in bed—where she knew it’d just be the two of them—about Lycoris.
They’d both realized that the girl was clearly far more than just a regular nobleman’s daughter. The Palace Court handling their interrogation was already a giant red flag, and the fact the Seven had stepped in to ensure smooth handling of the proceedings was…
Well, if Lycoris really was a Drimus daughter, she was had to be a first generation child—if not also an Heir-Potentiate in the making—which marked her as someone Emma really wouldn’t have gotten involved with if she had any idea at the time.
And yet, all of her suppositions and theorizings had been blown out of the sky the moment she saw a small letter tucked under the door to her apartment when she returned home from work one evening. An actual letter was already a rare sight, even among commoners, but this one was foiled with mythril, and the ink addressing her on the front glittered like liquid sapphire.
And the wax seal on the back bore the imprint of a winged rose—the Aphtangloa family crest.
A part of her wanted to throw out the letter, say it was just a figment of her imagination, and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But Emma realized that such a choice would be just as dangerous as breaking the seal and seeing what was inside. Especially when she’d only just stopped being a regular guest to the palace.
Just what in the world did the Exaltare want with her!?
She weighed opening it on the spot as she closed the door behind her, the quiet and cool ambiance of the apartment feeling almost ethereal as she glanced at the letter. It was like she’d fallen into another dimension, her head swimming through the sea of possibilities.
Unable to decide what to actually do with the letter, she opted to wait until Seraphine returned. Her partner was loud, eccentric, and prone to jumping on any opportunity she saw, but she was also deeply thoughtful and intelligent. Even if she rarely acted like it, she had been a military officer at one point.
The time that she spent sitting on the sofa, staring at the letter on the table, was perhaps the most tense hour of her life. She didn’t dare take her eyes off of it, out of an irrational fear that it’d sprout wings and pounce upon her or something.
“I’m hooome~! Hmm? Why are you just sitting in the dark, honey?”
Even when the door slammed open and Seraphine called out to her, she didn’t move from her spot. Emma hadn’t broken eye contact with the letter once, aside from when she needed to blink.
She heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and crinkling plastic bags as the long blonde-haired woman dropped what she was carrying and sat down beside her, wrapping one arm around Emma as she prodded her cheek.
“Heeey, anyone home?”
“Ah, hey… Sera. Welcome back.”
She finally snapped out of it, turning to greet her partner with a peck on the cheek.
After shaking off the mental paralysis, she gestured to the table and pursed her lips.
“We got a letter.”
“What?”
Seraphine tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly unheard of for someone to go their entire life without ever being on the receiving end of one, but her reaction was somewhat adorably naive.
“From Her Majesty’s office.”
“WHAT!?”
“Do you think we should open it and see what’s inside?”
“Of course! …We might wanna turn the lights on though. Reading in the dark is no good for your eyes.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the nurse here.”
Leave it to Sera to worry over the mundane rather than the fantastical.
Seraphine’s eyes lit up, her excitement easily plowing through Emma’s reticence. Emma wryly smiled at the unflinching eagerness her partner displayed as she scooped up the letter, turning it around and waving it to admire the reflective foil sheen of the mythril in the fading light from outdoors.
While she busied herself with oo-ing and aa-ing over the letter, Emma got up to finally turn the lights on. When she returned to the sofa, Seraphine was staring up at her like an excited puppy, holding it up to her with the wax seal facing her.
“So, what do you think’s inside?”
“I’ve been dreading the answer all evening.”
“Pffft, if they wanted to do something to us, I doubt they’d have sent a letter…”
Without hesitation, she broke the seal and flipped open the envelope, taking out the gold-leafed paper and unfolding it. The ink printed on it was the same deep blue, and the letters flowed as beautiful, flourishing calligraphy.
Seraphine cleared her throat as she scanned it briefly, before reading it aloud to Emma.
“Hmm… ‘Dear Miss Emma Gansly and Miss Seraphine Ethlow, I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I haven’t heard anything about either of you over the past few months, which I can only pray means glad tidings rather than poor. For my part, I have been rather busy preparing with Mother, but I’ve been in high spirits. As for why I had this letter penned and addressed to you, a fairly major celebration is coming up soon, and after seeking permission from Mother, I saw fit to invite the two of you as thanks for your kindness this past summer. She said you would only be permitted access to the regular banquet hall, but I’d still love to find a way to see you both again. After all, I’m not sure I’d be where I am right now if not for that evening. Inside the envelope are a pair of pressed blue rose pins, which serve as an entry-ticket to the banquet. There’s no need to RSVP. I don’t think I’d be able to receive any letters anyways. I hope you both attend, and hopefully time and circumstance permits us to see each other once more!’ …Best regards, ‘Lycoris!?’”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Seraphine looked up from the letter, understanding and astonishment grappling for dominance on her face.
Emma could sympathize, considering the nature of the envelope, the badges inside, and the party venue. She felt a headache fast approaching, accompanied by a mildly troubling premonition. Like she’d been handed a personal invitation to history in the making.
“Hey, Seraphine…”
“We’re going, right!? You know, it would probably be dangerous to turn down an invitation from the Seven… I can’t even believe I’m saying this, honestly! I wonder if Heir-Potentiates need Her Majesty’s approval to do this sort of thing…”
It seemed like Seraphine was thinking along the same lines Emma was.
Emma looked from the letter in Seraphine’s hands up to her face, continuing with her own question instead.
“Do you think that… maybe she’s… related to the Exaltare after all? Somehow?”
“Hmm… how would that work though? There’s only ever one at a time.”
“I dunno! Weren’t you the one who was talking about those romanticized fairy tales of a long-lost lineage dating back to Lilith or whatever?”
Seraphine stuck her tongue out as her only response, playfully taunting Emma as she flopped backwards onto the sofa. Normally the girl would’ve gone straight to clicking on the television to watch the news, but instead her eyes were glued to the letter as a warm smile lingered on her face.
“…I really wanted to see her again. I hope this means we actually get a chance to. I bet she’ll look super cute in whatever outfit she has on! Do you think she’s sorted that curse stuff out? I feel kinda relieved, and I didn’t even realize I was stressed out to begin with!”
“Hmm. Still, she was escorted by a member of the Drimus family, so wouldn’t that make her one of theirs? Making her formal debut into high society at the palace for Moonsend… I mean, I know they have ties to Her Majesty, but isn’t that kinda stepping on Exaltare Lilianna’s toes? I guess if the stationary is from her office then they probably got permission… but then—”
“Oh who cares about that? It's not like we can do anything about it! Besides, there’s something more important we should be thinking about right now than whatever her identity is.”
“And what’s that?” Emma sighed.
Seraphine threw her arms around and hugged her, wagging the letter playfully. “What outfits we should wear to the party!”
＊ ＊ ＊
On the first of Moonsend’s three nights of celebration, a banquet was always held in the upper halls of the Transfixion of Heaven. Gathered together were the mightiest residents of the remaining world, to celebrate the evening upon which they’d first freed themselves from the yoke of humans.
And in a much larger hall down below, dozens of guests, lesser nobles, and anyone else that possessed enough money and status to buy their way in, had gathered to celebrate and shake hands.
The first-generation, yet untitled, Drimus sighed. She adjusted the shoulder strap on her carnelian cocktail dress, and glanced around at the others making smalltalk in the artificially warmed and brightly lit ballroom. She felt quite out of place in the white-walled hall filled with sparkling, freshly polished gold decorations, even though she’d originally been born and bred for the express purpose of being a candidate for the throne.
But it’d been a very, very long time since she’d been an Heir-Potentiate. Ever since her younger twin took the throne, Rosa had allowed herself to fade from the political stage. Much like her sister, she held little interest in becoming famous.
Unfortunately, while she avoided the shackles of rulership, Rosa hadn’t found any luck with her other pursuits.
Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, since if she’d managed to birth a child before today, they would likely have ended up roped into the next Heir Selection Ceremony, that Lilianna was no doubt about to announce tonight. Three thousand years was already a respectable time for any individual Exaltare to hold the position, and it would be a while yet before any suitable candidates would be old enough for the throne.
Therefore, it felt obvious to the elder twin that Lilianna would purposefully invite all the old former Heir-Potentiates to bring things full circle as she lit a fire under the Seven. There wasn’t much other reason she’d go out of her way to contact Rosa after so many centuries, after all.
Though, it was still somewhat odd timing. Her sister famously loathed the Idra, and yet they were currently the best-positioned family to produce a quality heir. Rosa shuddered as she thought of what another multi-millenia stretch of Idra domination would do to society…
To chase the thought away, Rosa turned her gaze toward the currently empty stage against the back wall, the velvet blue curtains laced with mythril-silver drawing her thoughts back toward the last conversation she had with her younger twin. She wondered if “Lilianna” still held a grudge against her, if this invitation and timing of setting off the race for a new heir wasn’t intentionally targeted at Rosa, like she was trying to say “Oh dear, thou’rt still without child? Allow us to present thee with a seat, so that thou mayest sit back and watch the proceedings.”
Or perhaps she’d decided to clear the awkward air between them that’d stagnated over three thousand years, that she’d been at least partially responsible for. Rosa wasn’t the only one who’d wronged her sister, after all. And there was nobody who knew each other’s secrets better than they did, but Rosa still struggled to see just what her sister’s angle was this time.
“A drink, madam?”
Pulling her from her brooding in the shade of one of the hall’s grand marbled pillars, a blue-haired servant humbly offered her a glass of wine from a tray.
She accepted it and took a token sip. The sweetness pinched at her cheeks, but it couldn’t coax a smile out of her lips.
“Thank you.”
“It is this humble servant’s duty to serve, you needn’t thank me.”
“Hm.”
Rosa hummed thoughtfully, taking in the girl’s measure. Her hair was fairly dark, and she’d chosen not to use any form of dye or lightening—an interesting choice for someone working in Her Majesty’s service. Most would’ve tried to obscure how thin their blood ran… but the deep blue hue carried an almost auspicious message to it. Like she was destined to serve the Exaltare’s lineage.
Rosa waved the servant away as she ventured forth onto the ballroom floor, ignoring the gazes naturally drawn to her. She spotted, and began making her way toward, a familiar face in the crowd. Unfortunately, before she could reach him, the lights dimmed and the din naturally quieted to hushed whispers.
A spotlight shone down onto the stage, lighting up the woman who’d arrived before anyone could take notice. She was wearing a three-piece dress, the white blouse ending in sweeping sleeves, the deep purple skirt stretched down to her knees was flecked with sparkling gold stars, and finishing off the ensemble was a long flowing twilight-blue vest that extended all the way from shoulder to skirt tip, buttoned just around the waist. The Exaltare had chosen to cap off the outfit with black tights, shoes, and gloves, and sported the Aphtangloa family crest as her brooch holding a lacey cravat in place.
It was a much more subdued outfit than Rosa was expecting. The sense of tension filling the air managed to even affect her as she looked up at her estranged sister. Lilianna hadn’t done anything but appear there, but it felt as though she’d carried the winter cold from outside in with her.
Not to mention, the strangest part was the fact she stood there to begin with, rather than having someone else handle her introduction.
The whispers gradually built in volume, until she cleared her throat and raised both hands.
“Good evening. We hope that our amenities have left naught to be desired by any?”
She paused, allowing the polite murmurs of approval from the crowd to subside.
“As anticipated. Then let us not waste time. We have summoned you all here for an exceptional Moonsend Party, to make an important and momentous announcement.”
The crowd nodded expectantly, collectively falling silent in anticipation.
But… rather than continue her speech, the Exaltare stepped to the side out of the spotlight, and nodded with a terse yet kind smile to someone standing behind the curtain. It was only when Lilianna drew the crowd’s attention to them that Rosa even noticed, as murmurs and gasps rippled through the lot.
It was no surprise why, either, considering…
Garbed in an off-shoulder princess-line dress that stretched from silver-colored shoes sporting the Aphtangloa crest up to just above her bust line, where a bright white rose had been affixed to the garment, a silver-haired and red-eyed vampire child gracefully and unhurriedly stepped forward. She looked almost exactly like Lilianna, though her hair was longer and had been immaculately combed and treated to bring out its lustrous shine.
Her garment was a deep blue, evocative of the night sky, and fittingly was dotted with sparkling mythril sequins that looked like twinkling stars, which faded toward a paler shade as it fell toward the “horizon” near her ankles. Covering her arms were white ballroom gloves that stretched up past her elbows, completing the unmistakably regal ensemble.
As she took center stage beneath the spotlight, she pinched her skirt and elegantly curtseyed to the speechless audience, her hair lightly bobbing like a curtain of clouds behind her.
“Good evening, attendees,” her voice was clear and resonant, she had a gorgeous youthful smile, and she spoke confidently, even though there was a hint of childish lilt beneath the surface, “I am Lycoris Aster Aphtangloa, daughter of Lilianna Majalis Aphtangloa. It is a delight and an honor to have you all gathered tonight for my formal debut.”
…
A deafening silence followed in the wake of her self-introduction, until the peace suddenly shattered as the entire assemblage began shouting uproariously over each other, forgetting all manner and decorum.
“Who let their child up on stage?” “Did she say daughter!?” “She looks just like her!” “Where the hell did she come from?” “Just what have you done, Lilianna!?” “How old even is she?” “She looks so graceful.”
Even Rosa was shaken to her core, but she managed to tear her attention from the pleasantly smiling girl to the audience. Gazing out at the sea of purple-faced vampires bellowing in a mixture of anger, confusion, and delight helped put things back in perspective, though she was still simmering beneath the surface.
She refused to believe that her younger twin could have somehow defied everything they’d ever learned about the seat of the Exaltare and birthed a child. But this… Lycoris was undeniably a child, and really did look just like a smaller duplicate of Rosa and her twin—right down to the shape of her nose and length of her ears. If she dyed her hair and wore contacts, or used an equivalent form of illusion magic, it’d be as though one of them jumped out of an old childhood photo album that was probably rotting away on a hard drive somewhere.
“Just what manner of farce is this!?”
One voice cut above all the others, ripping Rosa out of her musing as the crowd quieted down.
Standing alone in the center of the hall, with everyone’s eyes on him, was a pale-gold haired man in a pure white suit. On the back of his coat was a bloody red palm outstretched, its five fingers each capped by a dragon’s head. A member of the Idra family.
The member, perhaps. He was the Speaker for the family’s unseen elders, the paranoid oligarchs of the house who never dared reveal themselves, meaning he was close to being the most powerful man from the most powerful family… aside from the Aphtangloa, of course.
“My, it’s awfully rude to call a party hosted by my dearest Mother a ‘farce,’ isn’t it?”
“Lilianna, explain yourself!”
He completely ignored Lycoris, stepping toward the stage and thrusting his finger towards the Exaltare. The woman looked entirely unfazed, maintaining her dignified posture with her hands folded in front of her.
“We have no need to, our daughter already explained quite adequately.”
“What!?”
Lycoris’ pleasant smile faded into a slight frown, one of her eyebrows rising. “And who are you anyways, to make demands of Mother?”
“You… dare speak down to me? I am Cedric Saeltanus Idra, Speaker for the Idra family! I will brook no such ignorant insult to my name and position!”
Her practiced frown wavered for a moment, as she turned to Lilianna with a look of mild confusion. “Mother, does the position of ‘Speaker’ mean that he’s simply the loudest member of the family? Why are we humoring this foolish outburst?”
Rosa had to cover her mouth to keep the chortle from escaping her lips, and looking up at the stage she saw her sister barely contain her amusement as well, as the Exaltare forced herself to blank her expression while replying.
“Darling, it means that he’s the one who speaks for the Idra family’s elders.” She spoke far more familiarly to the girl than anyone else—even Rosa, these days. “You must surely recall such a title from our discussion of the nobility.”
“I suppose I was just expecting more of such a position. They must be in quite dire straits if Mister Cedric is the only one they could find to fill those shoes.”
“How… How… How DARE—”
“To lose your composure in such a manner is quite ill-fitting of a nobleman, Cedric,” the demure little girl’s tone suddenly bit with a frigid chill.
Mother and daughter alike had clearly rehearsed ahead of time for a multitude of possible reactions, but to see them so effectively get under Cedric’s skin was bewildering. Though, Rosa herself had felt like the room flipped on its head the moment Lycoris announced her presence. She could sympathize with the man’s excitement and confusion, if not his choice of tone.
The young girl waved a hand toward the side of the hall, gesturing to the table laid out with drinks. As everyone’s attention was drawn in by her display, Rosa noticed a particular green-haired figure with his bowler hat tugged low, a wide grin on his face as a youthful and short companion leaned over to mumble to him.
“Perhaps you should have a glass and calm your mind, before you further embarrass everyone present.”
“The only embarrassment here is you! How can we trust that you truly are her daughter!? Are you trying to say that Lilianna has figured out and done what nobody else EVER has before!? Is she going to pluck the sun from the sky next, perhaps!?”
After being silent for so long, the crowd began muttering among themselves once more.
“He does have a point.” “What if she’s just dyed her hair?” “Who’s even the father?”
Admittedly, Rosa was curious about that herself. Judging by how her sister was behaving, it was clear that she genuinely considered Lycoris to be her child. Some things were just impossible to hide from a twin, no matter how much practice and courtly etiquette one put on display.
But that still left several questions unanswered…
Lycoris put a hand to her chest as she lowered her gaze to the floor. Even her complicated frown was filled with childish sweetness. She was like a picture-perfect noble scion, capturing both the innocence of youth and the dignified regality one would expect from someone of her stature. Of course, there was still a roughness around the edges that would be one day be polished off with age, but part of the delight of raising a child was savoring those little imperfections and watching them become the perfect—
Wait, Rosa thought. Am I… feeling jealous!? Of her!?
She’d realized that her fingers were twitching, her joints stiff.
“I suppose your concern isn’t unwarranted. In that case, I suppose it all comes back down to but one thing in the end.” Lycoris shook her head, her disappointment palpable.
She turned back towards her mother briefly, who nodded toward her with an encouraging smile. It really was strange to see the woman’s icy demeanor so thawed. Stranger still was that nobody else seemed keen enough to pick up on the shift in her attitude around her child.
After a dramatic pause, the little girl clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the hall and all those present within. Bowing her legs like a ballerina, she shifted and pressed one hand into the other, and raised them over her head as she began to pull a long, pitch-black metallic object out of herself.
Completely bewitched, Rosa and the rest of the crowd watched in awe as she slowly, gracefully withdrew an orichalcum scythe, its polished crimson-finished blade glimmering in the spotlight as she held it out to one side with a flourish.
With a prideful smile that Rosa couldn’t decide was sinister or sweet, Lycoris held the scythe bigger than herself behind her, and addressed the crowd once more, open palm extended toward them in invitation.
“I am Lycoris Aster Aphtangloa, daughter of and heir to the Exaltare. If any present takes umbrage with my existence, then step forward, and allow me to lay your concerns to rest.”