In the dead of night, the torches on the battlements were alight when a hooded figure arrived at a section behind the castle, her dragon-like eyes shining as they peered between the grates of a sally gate. A second pair of eyes, on the other side of the gate, peered back. “The Esteemed One has been expecting you,” a woman said. The sally gate opened without so much as a sound, and the hooded figure stepped in. She followed this second person across the lawn between the wall and the castle-proper; all she could note was the bell-shape of her dress.
Once through a small door and now in the castle, she could see that the person she was following was, in fact, a Maid. She had heard of Lord Shal-yen’s propensities, but now she knew, that guy was just weird. Why are they so high-leveled? What is this, a retirement home for mercenaries and war veterans roleplaying as Maids?
“Through here,” the Maid said, pointing to a narrow archway sparsely lit by magic candles. They ascended a spiral staircase, where she was careful to copy the Maid’s gait so as not to trip on the half-steps.
The Maid stopped before a door, stepping aside with a bow. She pushed it open.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Amelia said. Across from her was an odd group: a man guarded by two women on either side. There was an aura of comfort and—
“Not to worry,” Amelia continued with a smile. “The Inquisition sanctions this one.”
“That was what the Inquisition said last time,” she said, shaking her head. “That was a mistake, and your people paid for it.”
“This one is different.”
“That is also what you said last time.”
“This one believes in different things.”
“…Alright, that may have some novelty. So, who is he?”
“Before that…” Amelia gestured for her to remove her hood. “I hope you would introduce yourself, as well. For a detour.”
…A new mission, on top of the original. Well, it’s all in due course. She removed her hood, letting white, silken hair fall behind her shoulders, and pointed ears to reveal themselves. Were it not for her dragon-like eyes, sapphire betwixt black sclera, the others would have mistaken her as an elf; her skin was a tint lighter than the inhabitants of this world, but imperceptibly so. “My name is Gellar. No need for pleasantries.”
“Well, Champion Kalender,” Amelia said, also looking to the two beside him, “Knight Jyn, and…Tourist Lilia, I will have you swear secrecy in the name of the Throne of Lyrica. Standing before you is one of the secrets of this world”—
“Don’t patronize me.”
“…A yellow demon—an otherworlder.”
Jyn was the only one utterly shocked, eyes wide and covering her gasp with one hand, slightly leaning away. Never in her life did she expect to be meeting the stuff of fairy tales in the flesh!
Meanwhile, to Lilia, who experienced every day as something new, something undiscovered, such novelty as this was just noise in the background—just like “any other day of something new.”
Finally, Kalender… Well, he’s also technically an otherworlder, even if it’s just his soul and bits of memories here and there. This wasn’t surprising at all.
Amelia was disappointed, to say the least, squinting at them in dissatisfaction. Only Jyn gave a decent reaction.
“Thank you for not exaggerating your reactions,” Gellar said. “I am just a person from far away.”
“And a yellow demon,” Amelia said. “Kalender’s friend has need of your expertise.”
“I don’t imagine this is just nepotism,” Gellar quipped.
“No. His friend has demonic empathy magic.”
Gellar eyed Amelia, then Kalender, who took this as an opportunity to explain. “She got struck by something called the Wisdom of Three. We don’t entirely know what it does, but lately she’s been”—
“Seeing colors and broadcasting her emotions, correct?” Gellar said. Kalender’s eyes jerked open for a moment. “That’s right,” he said.
Gellar nodded. “I see.” Her mission was related, it seemed. She looked to Amelia and met eyes with her for a moment, then she looked back to Kalender. “Where is she now?”
“We’re staying in a resthouse called Freedom’s Peak,” Kalender replied. “It’s near the southern gate.”
“Very well. Please meet me at the plaza in twenty minutes. Stay close to the castle’s gatehouse where the Guards can see you.”
Kalender nodded. He looked to Jyn and Lilia, and they all stood.
“Thank you for accommodating us, Esteemed Sentinel,” Jyn said with a bow. Seeing this, Kalender followed suit with a bow of his own, followed by Lilia.
“Please be on your way,” Amelia said. The three meekly left the room, escorted down the stairs by a Maid. Gellar squinted at Amelia. “Again, is this not actually nepotism?”
“Shush.” Amelia waved dismissively with a flick of a hand. “One demonic signature in the area is bad enough. Ensuring this second one does not cause havoc is just a matter of course.”
“I see you’re avoiding my question.”
“Shush.” Amelia waved with two hands this time. “Lyrica’s first sanctioned Cursed Reincarnator in years is happily training to take on a god, and his friend is afflicted with demonic magics, and has become my daughter’s first true friend”—
“And Arpeggio’s ability to socialize is a matter of national interest?”
“Precisely,” Amelia said with a nod and a pointed finger, just to emphasize how much of Lyrica’s future depended on one overpowered girl’s ability to make friends. “All interests align in this case. According to the law, this much nepotism should be allowable.”
Astounding. Gellar had never seen Lyrica’s legal system go this deep before. “I suppose I won’t grumble on the way there, then.”
“Gellar,” Amelia said. “Defend him and his group at every opportunity. The Cult is afoot in this town, and I am not glad that we are breathing the same air as them.”
“Of course.” Gellar turned and left.
***
Spots of sweat rolled down the face of the Maid leading the group forward. That was because she had encountered an insurmountable obstacle.
“Kalender,” Arpeggio said, arms crossed and teeth ready to murder everyone in the castle with just a thought. She stepped forward, stopping shoulder-to-shoulder with the Maid. “What did you mean when you said that?”
It took a few seconds for Kalender to rewind the security tape in his mind. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Arpeggio said with a grin.
“It means I appreciate your appearance,” Kalender said matter-of-factly.
Arpeggio’s grin disappeared, replaced by a sigh. “Why can’t you just fold like every other man?”
“Huh?” Kalender just looked at her with a tilted head. Arpeggio sighed again. “You are too unshy about your inner feelings for this world.” She looked over to Jyn. “Isn’t that right, Knight Jyn?”
The sudden address caught Jyn off-guard. “You are absolutely correct, Your Highness.”
Arpeggio frowned. She’d thought that other than Kalender, maybe the others of his group would’ve lightened up a bit. On the other hand, they were just standing in a hallway filled with witnesses, and Jyn, the notable stiffie of them all, almost always acted like this, so what did she expect? Better luck next time with Page, mayhaps.
Oh, but, she hadn’t ever spoken to Lilia at-length before, hadn’t she? “You are…‘Tourist’ Lilia?” she started. “What’s a…‘Tourist’?”
Jyn was getting impatient. For a while, she held it in, but Jyn under a mental timer was a far different Jyn than most knew. “Your Highness, with respect,” she said, catching Arpeggio off-guard this time. Deep inside, she was happy that someone was rudely cutting her off, even if this in itself was grounds for an execution. “We have an urgent appointment with a ‘doctor’ at the plaza,” she continued.
Of course. Their talk with mother couldn’t have been pleasantries. “Then, as the host, allow me to walk you there,” Arpeggio said.
They started walking … though, her wording bothered Kalender too much that he just had to ask, “What do you mean ‘as the host’? Isn’t Shal-yen the Lord?”
“Oh, yes, he is the Lord of Harmony, but I am the owner of this castle.”
Wow … but, that just begs another question. “Do you really have to walk around in full Princess dress all the time?”
“It is of utmost importance to constantly project the nobleness of royalty. Why?”
“Isn’t it…uncomfortable?”
“…Slightly so. Perhaps.”
Kalender gave it a thought, and shook his head. Seeing this, Arpeggio asked, “Why are you making that face?”
“Oh, sorry. Well, just… You’re royalty, and I thought, why can’t you just do whatever you want? I mean, this is your house. I can imagine you need to keep up a public face, but even in your own house?”
Arpeggio’s mind churned through Lyrica’s thousands of laws and stipulations, including the Dress Code. That was when she realized … it’s not illegal. She stopped in her tracks, forcing the rest of the group to stop, as well. She looked up to Kalender, who saw this enlightened expression in her eyes, and maybe even tears.
She saw them off under the gatehouse. The last thing she saw, though, was how Jyn moved around him. Arpeggio’s honed skills as a warrior gave her a third eye for translating someone’s positions and movements into their true intentions—understanding whatever it was they wanted to kill…or protect. Wherever the thickest shadows were, Jyn changed tact and put herself between it and Kalender, shifting her sheathe so that her sword was easier to pull in that direction. Kalender, meanwhile, likely saw this, too, because he was shifting something around under his cloak, ready to react to anything else in every other direction that Jyn and Lilia didn’t cover.
They protected each other. One day, Arpeggio hoped against hope, she would be among them, too.
***
Gellar was just like any other shady person whispering from an alley when she said, “You, over here.” Jyn and Lilia understandably unsheathed their swords halfway, but upon seeing those dragon eyes, they put them back. Gellar smirked. “Lead the way,” she said.
They went back the same way to Freedom’s Peak, sticking to the main avenue as much as possible. There were much less stalls, now; there was much less light checkpointing their way. Danger was afoot. “Divert,” Gellar said. Unseen to the other three, there were already crews of Backalley Bandits waiting to pounce on them once they passed this next stall.
Jyn and Lilia heard and understood the urgency in Gellar’s voice. Jyn tugged at Kalender’s free arm, gesturing him to follow their new way.
“Do you know these parts?” Lilia asked Gellar.
“I do,” the demon replied. “I memorized them on the way here. Watch your footing. The cobbles here are loose and pried.”
They went for a C-shaped route, finally seeing the main avenue again after a few minutes. Gellar, however, stopped and looked behind them.
“What is it?” Jyn asked, hand-on-hilt.
Gellar could see emotions being flung around from whence they came. “My blunder,” she said, “I think I’ve left something at the castle.” She looked to the three. “I trust this you can look out for yourself. Freedom’s Peak isn’t far from here, is it?”
“We can manage,” Jyn replied. She looked to Kalender and Lilia, and they gave affirmative nods.
Gellar nodded and left them. Soon enough, the main avenue was gone from her, and she was just another shadow in the dark. She stuck to being a shadow, sticking to the sides and watching her surroundings before she moved.
The emotions were stronger now. She could see them sparking from behind another alley. Looking to the roofline and the windows, no one was watching, so she moved ahead to the edge before the alley. Good thing she tread carefully, because she might have stepped on something slick. Only then did the outline of a body come into clarity. It was a man, maybe twenty to thirty years old by this world’s standards.
She stepped over the body and peered around the edge. Emotions danced like wind blades, red and yellow clashing, disappearing, reappearing, and clashing again, hitting invisible walls as their feelings never reach each other.
The red one flared (-100 MP). Her eyes widened, and she rolled backwards, out of the way of the phreatic explosion that consumed the wall where she had just been standing. She removed a crystal from her belt and tossed it into the alley. There was a flash and a bang, and the dark assassin who emerged from the alley did so stumbling. In his disoriented state, he did the reasonable thing and used a wide-area spell to pick up nearby debris and launch them as bullets every which way (-150 MP), hoping to hit his new enemy. Gellar launched a wedge-shaped column of thick air towards him (Mana: ●●●●○), driving away the projectiles bound her way.
Muffled gunfire from the alley sent fiery bullets streaking through the air past the dark assassin. The gunman didn’t lack skill; the assassin tilted his head and changed his step, avoiding bullets by inches. Just one of those bullets would have exploded out a chunk of his fragile flesh and taken his life. Gellar eyed the gunman. He wore a thin cloth mask, obscuring his mouth and eyes, but otherwise he was unassuming—a spy, not an assassin. Outclassed, evidently, as he was holding his stomach and relying on a wall to support him, even as he clutched a handgun in the other hand.
The assassin was apt to launch magic against the gunman, but Gellar decided that the enemy of the far-shadier enemy would be her friend. She drew out her rapier, whose abnormal ringing caught the two’s attention, seemingly getting louder and louder, even as it physically quietened.
Gellar launched off towards the assassin, throwing several cuts and thrusts, only managing to ruin the assassin’s long coat. He was thinner than she thought. He drew out a dagger in one hand, and an arming sword in the other, catching her next attack with the dagger. She was surprised, but unperturbed; the assassin’s sword stopped at its zenith as she pulsed her magic, and her enemy’s heart skipped a beat.
Gunfire managed to catch the assassin in the wrist, blowing off his hand. Even with that prospect, he only grunted—in annoyance, more than anything. This was quickly becoming a losing match.
The spy fired his last bullet, which the assassin deftly avoided—but what was that, didn’t it sound like he fired five bullets in one shot just now?
“Don’t let up!” Priestess Tak’s voice boomed. The response cry of a half dozen elite Clerics underscored the orchestrated gunfire that followed, quieter than the spy’s own suppressed pistol.
The assassin swore as he performed every manner of evasive acrobatics he could, even as blood poured from the stump where his hand used to be.
Some of the bullets found their way around Gellar, however. She cut the bullets from the air and avoided the others. “Friend!” she shouted, letting her magic carry the intention further than words ever could. The Clerics winced at her magic, and even Priestess Tak was forced to reconsider their targets.
The one who confronted Gellar, however, was Maid Sherry. She dropped in from behind, impressed that Gellar immediately spun around with a defensive stance. She’ll give the demon plus points for that, and the fact that she wasn’t running away. Good points, indeed. “Identify yourself,” Sherry said.
“Gellar, in the service of the Sentinel, Amelia Thronekeeper.” She flashed her Inquisitorial badge. Sherry showed her palm, and Gellar tossed her badge over. The details on it checked out, but…
“You are a demon,” Sherry said. Gellar smirked. “Didn’t they teach you not to ask questions?”
Sherry smirked. “Very well.” She tossed the badge back. “But does your mission coincide with the assassin?”
“No. I was only here coincidentally.”
“What a difficult coincidence for you. Well then, have a good evening.” Sherry looked to Tak. “We will continue pursuit of the assassin!”
“But”—Tak pointed at the empathy magic-wielder.
“Inquisition asset. No further inquiries,” Sherry said. “Then, are we going to hunt down the real enemy?”
Tak’s inner conflict snapped to the right choice. She nodded and turned to her forces. “Sherwin, tell our other sisters to tighten the noose! The rest of you, onward!”
Tak and the Clerics rushed away. Sherry gave a parting glance for Gellar, walking calmly into the night.
In times like these, they would surely meet again. Gellar turned the other way, burning her bloodied cloak into fine ashes as she walked. She knocked on a door, and an old lady quickly handed her a doctor’s bag and shut her away. She continued walking, and taking out items from the bag, she changed her red shirt for a white one, layering on a gray dust robe. A blonde wig disguised her white hair, and a black blindfold feigned a Blessing of the Shadow Goddess.
She removed her rapier’s basket and pommel—those went into the bag—and she sleeved the blade into a hollowed walking stick that came with the bag, wrapping the handle in cloth, and by the time she rejoined the main avenue, she was just a lowly doctor making the rounds for the poor tonight.
In the dead of night, the torches on the battlements were alight when a hooded figure arrived at a section behind the castle, her dragon-like eyes shining as they peered between the grates of a sally gate. A second pair of eyes, on the other side of the gate, peered back. “The Esteemed One has been expecting you,” a woman said. The sally gate opened without so much as a sound, and the hooded figure stepped in. She followed this second person across the lawn between the wall and the castle-proper; all she could note was the bell-shape of her dress.
Once through a small door and now in the castle, she could see that the person she was following was, in fact, a Maid. She had heard of Lord Shal-yen’s propensities, but now she knew, that guy was just weird. Why are they so high-leveled? What is this, a retirement home for mercenaries and war veterans roleplaying as Maids?
“Through here,” the Maid said, pointing to a narrow archway sparsely lit by magic candles. They ascended a spiral staircase, where she was careful to copy the Maid’s gait so as not to trip on the half-steps.
The Maid stopped before a door, stepping aside with a bow. She pushed it open.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Amelia said. Across from her was an odd group: a man guarded by two women on either side. There was an aura of comfort and—
“Not to worry,” Amelia continued with a smile. “The Inquisition sanctions this one.”
“That was what the Inquisition said last time,” she said, shaking her head. “That was a mistake, and your people paid for it.”
“This one is different.”
“That is also what you said last time.”
“This one believes in different things.”
“…Alright, that may have some novelty. So, who is he?”
“Before that…” Amelia gestured for her to remove her hood. “I hope you would introduce yourself, as well. For a detour.”
…A new mission, on top of the original. Well, it’s all in due course. She removed her hood, letting white, silken hair fall behind her shoulders, and pointed ears to reveal themselves. Were it not for her dragon-like eyes, sapphire betwixt black sclera, the others would have mistaken her as an elf; her skin was a tint lighter than the inhabitants of this world, but imperceptibly so. “My name is Gellar. No need for pleasantries.”
“Well, Champion Kalender,” Amelia said, also looking to the two beside him, “Knight Jyn, and…Tourist Lilia, I will have you swear secrecy in the name of the Throne of Lyrica. Standing before you is one of the secrets of this world”—
“Don’t patronize me.”
“…A yellow demon—an otherworlder.”
Jyn was the only one utterly shocked, eyes wide and covering her gasp with one hand, slightly leaning away. Never in her life did she expect to be meeting the stuff of fairy tales in the flesh!
Meanwhile, to Lilia, who experienced every day as something new, something undiscovered, such novelty as this was just noise in the background—just like “any other day of something new.”
Finally, Kalender… Well, he’s also technically an otherworlder, even if it’s just his soul and bits of memories here and there. This wasn’t surprising at all.
Amelia was disappointed, to say the least, squinting at them in dissatisfaction. Only Jyn gave a decent reaction.
“Thank you for not exaggerating your reactions,” Gellar said. “I am just a person from far away.”
“And a yellow demon,” Amelia said. “Kalender’s friend has need of your expertise.”
“I don’t imagine this is just nepotism,” Gellar quipped.
“No. His friend has demonic empathy magic.”
Gellar eyed Amelia, then Kalender, who took this as an opportunity to explain. “She got struck by something called the Wisdom of Three. We don’t entirely know what it does, but lately she’s been”—
“Seeing colors and broadcasting her emotions, correct?” Gellar said. Kalender’s eyes jerked open for a moment. “That’s right,” he said.
Gellar nodded. “I see.” Her mission was related, it seemed. She looked to Amelia and met eyes with her for a moment, then she looked back to Kalender. “Where is she now?”
“We’re staying in a resthouse called Freedom’s Peak,” Kalender replied. “It’s near the southern gate.”
“Very well. Please meet me at the plaza in twenty minutes. Stay close to the castle’s gatehouse where the Guards can see you.”
Kalender nodded. He looked to Jyn and Lilia, and they all stood.
“Thank you for accommodating us, Esteemed Sentinel,” Jyn said with a bow. Seeing this, Kalender followed suit with a bow of his own, followed by Lilia.
“Please be on your way,” Amelia said. The three meekly left the room, escorted down the stairs by a Maid. Gellar squinted at Amelia. “Again, is this not actually nepotism?”
“Shush.” Amelia waved dismissively with a flick of a hand. “One demonic signature in the area is bad enough. Ensuring this second one does not cause havoc is just a matter of course.”
“I see you’re avoiding my question.”
“Shush.” Amelia waved with two hands this time. “Lyrica’s first sanctioned Cursed Reincarnator in years is happily training to take on a god, and his friend is afflicted with demonic magics, and has become my daughter’s first true friend”—
“And Arpeggio’s ability to socialize is a matter of national interest?”
“Precisely,” Amelia said with a nod and a pointed finger, just to emphasize how much of Lyrica’s future depended on one overpowered girl’s ability to make friends. “All interests align in this case. According to the law, this much nepotism should be allowable.”
Astounding. Gellar had never seen Lyrica’s legal system go this deep before. “I suppose I won’t grumble on the way there, then.”
“Gellar,” Amelia said. “Defend him and his group at every opportunity. The Cult is afoot in this town, and I am not glad that we are breathing the same air as them.”
“Of course.” Gellar turned and left.
***
Spots of sweat rolled down the face of the Maid leading the group forward. That was because she had encountered an insurmountable obstacle.
“Kalender,” Arpeggio said, arms crossed and teeth ready to murder everyone in the castle with just a thought. She stepped forward, stopping shoulder-to-shoulder with the Maid. “What did you mean when you said that?”
It took a few seconds for Kalender to rewind the security tape in his mind. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Arpeggio said with a grin.
“It means I appreciate your appearance,” Kalender said matter-of-factly.
Arpeggio’s grin disappeared, replaced by a sigh. “Why can’t you just fold like every other man?”
“Huh?” Kalender just looked at her with a tilted head. Arpeggio sighed again. “You are too unshy about your inner feelings for this world.” She looked over to Jyn. “Isn’t that right, Knight Jyn?”
The sudden address caught Jyn off-guard. “You are absolutely correct, Your Highness.”
Arpeggio frowned. She’d thought that other than Kalender, maybe the others of his group would’ve lightened up a bit. On the other hand, they were just standing in a hallway filled with witnesses, and Jyn, the notable stiffie of them all, almost always acted like this, so what did she expect? Better luck next time with Page, mayhaps.
Oh, but, she hadn’t ever spoken to Lilia at-length before, hadn’t she? “You are…‘Tourist’ Lilia?” she started. “What’s a…‘Tourist’?”
Jyn was getting impatient. For a while, she held it in, but Jyn under a mental timer was a far different Jyn than most knew. “Your Highness, with respect,” she said, catching Arpeggio off-guard this time. Deep inside, she was happy that someone was rudely cutting her off, even if this in itself was grounds for an execution. “We have an urgent appointment with a ‘doctor’ at the plaza,” she continued.
Of course. Their talk with mother couldn’t have been pleasantries. “Then, as the host, allow me to walk you there,” Arpeggio said.
They started walking … though, her wording bothered Kalender too much that he just had to ask, “What do you mean ‘as the host’? Isn’t Shal-yen the Lord?”
“Oh, yes, he is the Lord of Harmony, but I am the owner of this castle.”
Wow … but, that just begs another question. “Do you really have to walk around in full Princess dress all the time?”
“It is of utmost importance to constantly project the nobleness of royalty. Why?”
“Isn’t it…uncomfortable?”
“…Slightly so. Perhaps.”
Kalender gave it a thought, and shook his head. Seeing this, Arpeggio asked, “Why are you making that face?”
“Oh, sorry. Well, just… You’re royalty, and I thought, why can’t you just do whatever you want? I mean, this is your house. I can imagine you need to keep up a public face, but even in your own house?”
Arpeggio’s mind churned through Lyrica’s thousands of laws and stipulations, including the Dress Code. That was when she realized … it’s not illegal. She stopped in her tracks, forcing the rest of the group to stop, as well. She looked up to Kalender, who saw this enlightened expression in her eyes, and maybe even tears.
She saw them off under the gatehouse. The last thing she saw, though, was how Jyn moved around him. Arpeggio’s honed skills as a warrior gave her a third eye for translating someone’s positions and movements into their true intentions—understanding whatever it was they wanted to kill…or protect. Wherever the thickest shadows were, Jyn changed tact and put herself between it and Kalender, shifting her sheathe so that her sword was easier to pull in that direction. Kalender, meanwhile, likely saw this, too, because he was shifting something around under his cloak, ready to react to anything else in every other direction that Jyn and Lilia didn’t cover.
They protected each other. One day, Arpeggio hoped against hope, she would be among them, too.
***
Gellar was just like any other shady person whispering from an alley when she said, “You, over here.” Jyn and Lilia understandably unsheathed their swords halfway, but upon seeing those dragon eyes, they put them back. Gellar smirked. “Lead the way,” she said.
They went back the same way to Freedom’s Peak, sticking to the main avenue as much as possible. There were much less stalls, now; there was much less light checkpointing their way. Danger was afoot. “Divert,” Gellar said. Unseen to the other three, there were already crews of Backalley Bandits waiting to pounce on them once they passed this next stall.
Jyn and Lilia heard and understood the urgency in Gellar’s voice. Jyn tugged at Kalender’s free arm, gesturing him to follow their new way.
“Do you know these parts?” Lilia asked Gellar.
“I do,” the demon replied. “I memorized them on the way here. Watch your footing. The cobbles here are loose and pried.”
They went for a C-shaped route, finally seeing the main avenue again after a few minutes. Gellar, however, stopped and looked behind them.
“What is it?” Jyn asked, hand-on-hilt.
Gellar could see emotions being flung around from whence they came. “My blunder,” she said, “I think I’ve left something at the castle.” She looked to the three. “I trust this you can look out for yourself. Freedom’s Peak isn’t far from here, is it?”
“We can manage,” Jyn replied. She looked to Kalender and Lilia, and they gave affirmative nods.
Gellar nodded and left them. Soon enough, the main avenue was gone from her, and she was just another shadow in the dark. She stuck to being a shadow, sticking to the sides and watching her surroundings before she moved.
The emotions were stronger now. She could see them sparking from behind another alley. Looking to the roofline and the windows, no one was watching, so she moved ahead to the edge before the alley. Good thing she tread carefully, because she might have stepped on something slick. Only then did the outline of a body come into clarity. It was a man, maybe twenty to thirty years old by this world’s standards.
She stepped over the body and peered around the edge. Emotions danced like wind blades, red and yellow clashing, disappearing, reappearing, and clashing again, hitting invisible walls as their feelings never reach each other.
The red one flared (-100 MP). Her eyes widened, and she rolled backwards, out of the way of the phreatic explosion that consumed the wall where she had just been standing. She removed a crystal from her belt and tossed it into the alley. There was a flash and a bang, and the dark assassin who emerged from the alley did so stumbling. In his disoriented state, he did the reasonable thing and used a wide-area spell to pick up nearby debris and launch them as bullets every which way (-150 MP), hoping to hit his new enemy. Gellar launched a wedge-shaped column of thick air towards him (Mana: ●●●●○), driving away the projectiles bound her way.
Muffled gunfire from the alley sent fiery bullets streaking through the air past the dark assassin. The gunman didn’t lack skill; the assassin tilted his head and changed his step, avoiding bullets by inches. Just one of those bullets would have exploded out a chunk of his fragile flesh and taken his life. Gellar eyed the gunman. He wore a thin cloth mask, obscuring his mouth and eyes, but otherwise he was unassuming—a spy, not an assassin. Outclassed, evidently, as he was holding his stomach and relying on a wall to support him, even as he clutched a handgun in the other hand.
The assassin was apt to launch magic against the gunman, but Gellar decided that the enemy of the far-shadier enemy would be her friend. She drew out her rapier, whose abnormal ringing caught the two’s attention, seemingly getting louder and louder, even as it physically quietened.
Gellar launched off towards the assassin, throwing several cuts and thrusts, only managing to ruin the assassin’s long coat. He was thinner than she thought. He drew out a dagger in one hand, and an arming sword in the other, catching her next attack with the dagger. She was surprised, but unperturbed; the assassin’s sword stopped at its zenith as she pulsed her magic, and her enemy’s heart skipped a beat.
Gunfire managed to catch the assassin in the wrist, blowing off his hand. Even with that prospect, he only grunted—in annoyance, more than anything. This was quickly becoming a losing match.
The spy fired his last bullet, which the assassin deftly avoided—but what was that, didn’t it sound like he fired five bullets in one shot just now?
“Don’t let up!” Priestess Tak’s voice boomed. The response cry of a half dozen elite Clerics underscored the orchestrated gunfire that followed, quieter than the spy’s own suppressed pistol.
The assassin swore as he performed every manner of evasive acrobatics he could, even as blood poured from the stump where his hand used to be.
Some of the bullets found their way around Gellar, however. She cut the bullets from the air and avoided the others. “Friend!” she shouted, letting her magic carry the intention further than words ever could. The Clerics winced at her magic, and even Priestess Tak was forced to reconsider their targets.
The one who confronted Gellar, however, was Maid Sherry. She dropped in from behind, impressed that Gellar immediately spun around with a defensive stance. She’ll give the demon plus points for that, and the fact that she wasn’t running away. Good points, indeed. “Identify yourself,” Sherry said.
“Gellar, in the service of the Sentinel, Amelia Thronekeeper.” She flashed her Inquisitorial badge. Sherry showed her palm, and Gellar tossed her badge over. The details on it checked out, but…
“You are a demon,” Sherry said. Gellar smirked. “Didn’t they teach you not to ask questions?”
Sherry smirked. “Very well.” She tossed the badge back. “But does your mission coincide with the assassin?”
“No. I was only here coincidentally.”
“What a difficult coincidence for you. Well then, have a good evening.” Sherry looked to Tak. “We will continue pursuit of the assassin!”
“But”—Tak pointed at the empathy magic-wielder.
“Inquisition asset. No further inquiries,” Sherry said. “Then, are we going to hunt down the real enemy?”
Tak’s inner conflict snapped to the right choice. She nodded and turned to her forces. “Sherwin, tell our other sisters to tighten the noose! The rest of you, onward!”
Tak and the Clerics rushed away. Sherry gave a parting glance for Gellar, walking calmly into the night.
In times like these, they would surely meet again. Gellar turned the other way, burning her bloodied cloak into fine ashes as she walked. She knocked on a door, and an old lady quickly handed her a doctor’s bag and shut her away. She continued walking, and taking out items from the bag, she changed her red shirt for a white one, layering on a gray dust robe. A blonde wig disguised her white hair, and a black blindfold feigned a Blessing of the Shadow Goddess.
She removed her rapier’s basket and pommel—those went into the bag—and she sleeved the blade into a hollowed walking stick that came with the bag, wrapping the handle in cloth, and by the time she rejoined the main avenue, she was just a lowly doctor making the rounds for the poor tonight.
