jasbraq

The Hourglass Order

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He had been held up, briefly, by the guards outside, but then they had recognized their social better and ushered him through. There were many men of importance gathered, and others of little. There came flowery words from Ayla, as well, that took up quite a bit of space without meaning very much. The Perrenchman certainly nurtured no grudge against her, but it reminded him of the vipers trying to elevate themselves through their social better. His goal was plain and his time spent listening outside had given him more or less the measure of his quarry. His footsteps sounded on the marble floor. A rapier hung at his hip. He came to a stop with a smart clack of his heels.

"Marquis de Zengali." The young man nodded in his host's direction, polite and businesslike, but did not bow. It was not proper for the son of a duke and *prince du sang* to do so before a mere marquis. "Lady Arslan." In any event, the Mezegolan did not seem much preoccupied with formalities.

"I am Yvain de Berbignon, and I so happen to represent those 'others' who my lady anticipates working with." He smiled agreeably, but his bearing remained intense. "We have come here, on behalf of Perrence and her allies Belzagg, Eskand, and..." He more or less smothered his grimace through his smile.. "the other one, to help you slay a beast and to ensure that no others follow in its wake. We are - all of us - capable thaumaturges who come prepared for a fight. We shall not require much but your consent and any resources you may see fit to bestow upon our effort." Left unsaid was the rest: I trust this is agreeable.

The Marquis had grown tiresome of this conversation with Lady Arslan. Double speaking and now he might have Ersand'Ernise solo actors in their port. He even ends up questioning if his own son sent word to a contact in Ersand'Ernise. But none of that mattered, the Marquis decided that he would cast Ersand'Ernise outside his port.

But first was tall gentleman, Sir Yvain de Berbignon. He came with purpose and clarity unlike the Lady standing before him. The Marquis was much more attentive to Yvain. It was like a breath of fresh air that tells you that the eggs had gone rotten.

"Well your service will be much appreciated," the Marquis silently gave a nod to Yvain.

"Your presence is permitted, of course,-" the Marquis gave a subtle glare at Ayla, "And as such, your group will be rewarded a case of mana shots for tomorrows hunt." The Marquis lips curled into a small smile, smiling didn't fit his face.

He turned to Ayla, "Lady Ayla," his voice grew serious, "Anything you have to say?" he looked at her expectantly.

Ayla noted Yvain's presence as he entered the discussion and politely bowed her head in his direction. She had hoped to aspire to something better and greater in their meeting, aiming to create a united front with her fellow students from both factions and beyond. However, it became clear that such an aspect was unexpectedly threatening to the Marquis. As the adage goes, ‘better the enemy you know.’ The idea of a third party, no matter how benevolent or well-meaning, was seen as an unknown.

She sighed softly, especially as Yvain distinctly presented himself as part of the Sovereign Pact. This clearly identified her as being aligned with the Central Alliance, contrary to her intention. "We are all here to assist in this endeavour, regardless of factional lines. We represent students from Ersand’Enise, primarily from the Central Alliance nations, as our colleague next to us has stated. Your consent and any available resources or information you can offer would be greatly appreciated to allow us to operate effectively in dealing with this issue."

The Marquis weighed his judgement. She obscured herself as a neutral when she wasn't. Whether that was a lie, delusion, or genuine hope weighed on his mind. The Marquis was unashamed taking a minute or so of time to conclude his thoughts on Lady Arslan.

"The Central Alliance has done much to help hasten our readiness for tomorrow, and for a group representing a talented addition to their ranks, I thank you for coming. As such, I welcome you to Zengali, Lady Arslan. My aid will share with you the details and sleeping arrangements for tonight." Marquis Dume's kind words were laced with pity for the girl. One of the aids pulled out a scroll for Ayla and escorts her out of the Marquis's home.

Yvain nodded in response to the Marquis’s offer. ”They will be put to good use.” A sense of satisfaction enveloped the Perrenchman at hearing those honeyed words being partially taken back.

Once the Central Alliance representative was escorted out, did the young man’s sight return upon the man he had a meeting with. ”May I assume you wish to discuss more with me?” Yvain’s smile did not fade from his face. ”If so, could I suggest doing so while sharing a wonderful glass of wine?”

Marquis Dume smiled again, "As much as my aids and I wish for some reprieve, we cannot yet," the Marquis said with maybe a sigh and a small laugh among his aids. "But I do have news on your quarters," he stood from his chair to turn and point to a lovely looking villa on the higher part of the mountain, "A noble man like yourself should receive these accommodations, you'll find the amenities quite nice." One of the aids was quickly writing the authorization to use it after the sudden offer.

The Marquis moved on from his small gift, "If you wish to share a drink with me, come find me after the performance tonight, until then Sir Berbignon," the Marquis waved for one of his closer advisors to guide him out to the side gate instead of the main gate to avoid the common traffic.

He handed him the piece of paper for the house and a silver tablet to receive the mana shots. Along with that, the aid gave a similar breakdown of the thresher that he learned earlier. Lastly he was slipped a small bag of coinage to enjoy himself at the festival!

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

@Play Misty That's okay! I've been really busy lately anyway. Will be back with Gus by the weekend

The Hourglass Order

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Running out of luck

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♫

Cannonfire already!? What a warm welcome! His instinct kicked in and soon he was untraceable by anyone's sight. He began to dive deeper to avoid any incoming fire. Keeping his breathing in check with the chemical magic knowledge that he had. .His eyes sharpened to see through the darkened parts of the sea. Fuck you, Silvestri. . Could've warned us that it would be a fucking warzone. .

It was too much. He survived so much death around him. During the events at An Zenui, during his meeting with the so-called avatar of Reshta, during the student’s attack on the school and now not even a month after they get dropped off within a warzone? He did not have any person who he should care for more than himself. . . There was Kaureerah but she usually seemed to have luck on her side and if she were to be in trouble someone else would help her out, right?

Fiske just needed to get as far away from it as he could. Anywhere but those ships would be a gift from the gods. He dove and swam until he found… wood? Were these parts that fell off the wreck that Silvestri talked about? He needed to investigate it further, luckily for the boy he was the most experienced student at bending light to his whim, not that he would ever brag about that.

The closer he got to it, the further he went down to avoid anyone noticing him. The threshers in this area were not as big as the Golds he was familiar with but they were so numerous that it became harder to see much else. He wanted to let out a sigh of relief… before he realized it might not have been the best idea underwater. The boy was too confident in his own manas and skill in camouflage that he swam close to the threshers… not even realizing that the rock he had passed left a small cut on his leg.

♫

While these threshers’ rather lackluster sight could be easily tricked, their sense of smell could not. One by one did they start noticing the invisible prey in their waters, cutting into his clothing and skin. At first Fiske did not notice, but when his sight saw red he panicked. Those things noticed him? He tried to speed himself up through the water, broken bones be damned but these threshers were called torpedoes for a reason… They kept up with his feeble attempt to escape and even overtook him.

He pushed them away but the kinetic energy he dispersed came back to him. His eyes glimpsed at one of his arms. He wondered why it was so hard to move but then saw chunks of his flesh missing… Was that bone? His bone?.. He grit his teeth trying his hardest to keep his sense of pain down enough to mentally function. Was this going to be the end? Of course it can’t, not after he survived fights against mages three times his superior, a grand demon and even a goddess… to die to a group of glorified arthropods would be the funniest joke he couldn’t live to tell.

Well, it looks like I can’t swim away anymore. The humor in this pathetic way of dying was not lost on the boy who tried to reach the sun. Chunks of his leg… abdomen.. he couldn’t really which it was floated along his one working eye. He tried to numb the fear of death with his own ‘humor’. Will I end up in Oratz’s heaven for all the lives I’ve saved?... or tried to at least? Maybe I’ll end up in Escheran’s hell for wanting to live…

.

The water began to boil and the boy’s mangled face contorted further. The threshers backed off. Am I not to your liking? Let me see Dami already, damn it! What little will he had left dragged the threshers back to him. While he did so his body, or what was left of it began to change as something within him clasped onto what he felt was his soul. I think I see now, I’m beginning to see it all so clearly. Fiske silhouette was utterly unrecognizable at this point. Another threat was near his broken frame and he did not even notice it. The shore was so close, if he could just survive for a little bit longer, help would come. He knew people wouldn’t just abandon him, right?

It was then that the sand on which he laid began to shift, his abdomen falling within the creature’s claws which soon created a Fis and a Ke. He could not fight against this thing, not in the state he was in. All he could do was laugh.

♫

.

”Hee hee, hoo hoo hahahaha! So this is it, huh!” What was left of the Huulisch boy was dragged down as the last of his laughter became muffled under the sand.

The Hourglass Order

Dorothea read the notice that was thrusted into her hands, disrespectfully so. To think fate brought such a letter to her, it was so comical that it brought a smile to her face.. Did they say that these knife ears were from Oiyac? I guess those aren’t as bad as the filthy baummenschen from Mycormi.

A little stretch here and there. ”Guess it won’t hurt to check it out. It’s a personal request, so that automatically is already better than the school sending us to near certain death.” The girl rolled her neck before shaking off any of the strain from the stretches.

---

The evening was not filled with rest for the Huulisch boy.

You’re going to fuck up again, dummkopf! It’s not some people on the street we’re dealing with here. It’s actual diplomacy, like the things you should’ve learned but always walked out on when your tutors asked you oh, so politely to learn. Fiske walked around scratching his scalp. Everything has gotten so fast as of late, his mind barely had the time to process it all.

He almost died because he hesitated. His idiotic sense of soft justice is what got Marci in. .

Then when he wanted to just find some books to learn a couple secret spells. That too got him close to death and nobody wanted to help him. He wanted to beg but the pain was enough to keep him silent. Fuck them, fuck them all. I did all of that for them just to be left to die. Oooh, Penny was more important than your filthy common life. . . FUCK. . YOU! Tears fell down his cheek as a mixture of fear and anger hit the boy.

A couple breaths were let in and let out in an effort to calm himself down. If it wasn’t for that weird fruit. I think. . . I think that I would’ve bled out and died there. He conjured a reflection of himself. He did not look any different, but he felt different. The boy could cry. For all his optimism and snark had evaporated and in its wake was a young man who did not feel at home in his own body in a week’s time.

Those filthy students that used the situation of the Zenos coup d'état against Zenith Upta to use their magic to murder. Those men were just mercenaries, did they deserve to die just because they stood against the students’ “glorious revolution”? Most of them probably did not even care about the political aspect of it. They just wanted to kill and fight. To save Penny? Yeah, right.

---

Yvain did not know how to feel about proceeding to the next round of the Tan-Zeno process. He got through but in the process he had to admit to things he rather wouldn’t have acknowledged. You’re a noble, damn you! Have some pride. But which accomplishments could he take pride out of? Almost dying to that filth in Vossoriya? Not being able to stop his cousin getting killed? Being utterly overpowered by any adversary that was encountered? Admit it, you’re not a legend like Arcel or Benedict. You’re barely a Rouis. . You’re Yvain, a high noble that is strong- But never strong enough.

”It seems we’ll have to talk it out with the students who partner themselves with the Central Alliance.” The Perrenchman sighed heavily. ”After all of this violence, I’d rather not resort to force when diplomacy can do the trick.”

The Hourglass Order

[Saving this lil thingy for Yvvie cheese]

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

The Great Gus

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It was a rather long day for the man. He did not have the best luck with the ladies today, he got caught trying to steal an apple from a merchant and had to run from the guards for a bit… Even his old man, the person who had always been there for him had been missing for a suspiciously long time. The only thing he left was this weird looking coin.

He did however manage to steal a bottle of wine and enjoyed it wholeheartedly. The thief soon found his next target to perhaps steal or gather intel from. The Lock and Key tavern had always been on his radar to visit but it was never really his style. He preferred the more grimy taverns.

He slammed open the door and waltzed in. ”Another round, please!” A young man yelled out as he enjoyed his drink. He looked intoxicated, should he even drink any more than he already did? After a while he found himself towards the gambling table. ”Mind a dashing, young man joining the table?” His bright smile showed no sense of malice. He did not wait for anyone's confirmation and sat down

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Gus's nimble fingers expertly shuffled the deck. The flamboyant rogue smirked, eager for the game to unfold. Dorian, confident, leaned back, eyes fixed on the cards. With a flourish, Gus dealt the first round. His illusions subtly altered the perception of the cards.. The mysterious figure raised an eyebrow, suspecting trickery, but remained silent. Dorian, oblivious, won the round, attributing it to his own skill.

As the second round commenced, Gus intensified his magical sleight of hand. The flamboyant rogue engaged in witty banter, distracting others from Gus's subtle manipulations. Dorian, confident in his armor's luck, played boldly. ”Where did all your calculated smarts go?” He jested as he managed to win this round, while Dorian, growing suspicious, eyed Gus with a newfound wariness.

In the third round, Gus decided to escalate the game. With finesse, he altered the perception of Dorian's hand, creating an illusion of a winning combination. The rogue, caught up in the excitement, reveled in the unfolding drama.

Gus, with a confident smile, proposed a daring bet – Dorian's resplendent armor. Placing a golden coin on the table, the illusionist pushed the limits.”Know anything about this lil trinket?” The tension rose as Dorian hesitated, sensing something amiss. Abruptly, he halted the game to summon Gus into the back room for a private confrontation.

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

Gus Larkspur

August

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Basic Information

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Age:

25

Race:

Human

Class:

Arcane Trickster Rogue, Illusion School Wizard

Weapons:

Dagger Set: A set of finely crafted daggers is his weapon of choice—compact and easy to conceal. He is rather precise when throwing them. He has names for each dagger: Maura and Marci. Darts: Gus carries concealed small darts. These can be easily hidden on his person. He carries a variety of darts, one being laced with hallucinogens and another stylized in a way to make as much noise as possible when thrown.

Detailed Appearance:

Gus Larkspur, at the age of 25, carries an air of mysterious charisma that is accentuated by his roguish and scruffy appearance. His tousled wavy brown hair frame a face marked by the hardships of street life and the mischievous glint in his eyes. His facial hair takes the form of a well-maintained goatee, adding a touch of rugged charm to his features. The goatee seems to mirror the playful curve of his lips when he flashes his trademark mischievous smile. Gus's attire is a testament to his pragmatic approach to life. Clad in a simple, practical outfit befitting a skilled rogue, he wears dark trousers and a comfortable yet durable shirt. The sleeves are often rolled up, revealing the lean muscles acquired through a life of cunning escapades. A distinctive element of Gus's ensemble is a vibrant, bright scarf that he wears with a casual flair. The scarf, a seemingly incongruous burst of colour amidst the shadows. It is, however, not merely an accessory.

Bio History:

August Larkspur, born into the esteemed Larkspur noble family, displayed an innate magical ability from a young age. The Larkspurs, however, held a deep-seated prejudice against magic users, viewing them as a threat to the family's reputation. As August's abilities manifested, whispers of arcane dealings circulated through the noble circles. Facing public disgrace and fearing the consequences of having a magical heir, the Larkspurs decided to disown Gus. They were to be sent to the gallows, a grim fate for a noble child. Gus learned of the notorious reputation of the gallows and seized an opportunity to escape into the bustling downtown of Volenstul. While navigating the dangerous streets of Volenstul, Gus encountered a charismatic charlatan and illusionist named Marcel Duvall. Marcel, seeing potential in the young noble, took Gus under his wing. There was an unspoken understanding between them—Gus's magical abilities were accepted and even encouraged. Marcel became a mentor, a surrogate family member to Gus, filling the void left by the Larkspurs. Under Marcel's guidance, Gus learned the ways of illusion and trickery, honing their skills as an arcane trickster and a master swindler. The two formed a close bond, and Gus found solace in the camaraderie of the underworld. However, everything changed when Marcel disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The once thriving criminal empire fell into disarray, and Gus, feeling lost without their mentor, sought answers and purpose. In the search for Marcel, Gus joined a gang with aspirations for a big score, hoping to unravel the truth behind Marcel's disappearance and reclaim the stability they had lost.

Likes:

• Money: For Gus Larkspur, money is not merely a means to an end; it's a symbol of freedom and control. Growing up as a noble child turned street urchin, Gus learned early on the power that wealth wields. In the shadowy underworld of Volenstul, money is a tool for survival, a currency that opens doors and seals deals. Gus enjoys the thrill of the heist, the satisfaction of counting ill-gotten gains, and the freedom that a well-lined purse provides.
• Women: Gus is a charmer, and his fondness for women goes beyond mere attraction. He appreciates the diverse strengths and skills that women bring to the table, whether as allies, rivals, or partners in crime. His interactions are marked by a genuine respect for their abilities and a recognition that everyone has a role to play in the intricate dance of the underworld. Gus's charisma often finds him entangled in complex relationships, but it's the dynamic and unpredictable nature of these connections that he finds intriguing. Women, to Gus, are not just companions but valuable players in the grand game of life
• Flowers: Amidst the grit and shadows, Gus finds solace in the delicate beauty of flowers. Perhaps it's a nostalgic connection to a more innocent past or a reminder of the fleeting nature of life. Gus has a penchant for acquiring small bouquets, often stolen or acquired through less-than-legal means, to adorn his hideouts. Flowers represent a touch of elegance amidst the chaos—a reminder that even in the darkest corners, there can be moments of unexpected beauty.
• Clever Wordplay: A wordsmith in his own right, Gus appreciates the beauty of clever wordplay and witty banter. Whether engaging in verbal sparring with rivals or weaving intricate tales to entertain, his love for language is evident. A sharp tongue can be as effective as a concealed dagger, and Gus takes pride in his ability to navigate the intricate dance of words.
• Artful Illusions: Gus has a deep appreciation for the artistry behind magical illusions. Whether it's a subtle sleight of hand or a grand display of arcane trickery, he takes joy in the skilful manipulation of perception. Artful illusions not only serve as tools in his repertoire but also as a source of entertainment and fascination.

Dislikes:

• Getting swindled: The irony is not lost on Gus—a master of deception despising being deceived. Having spent years perfecting the art of trickery, Gus has a deep disdain for those who attempt to outwit him. The bitter taste of betrayal is something he actively avoids, and anyone attempting to swindle him is met with a fierce and unforgiving response.
• High society: Gus's upbringing in the noble Larkspur family left scars that haven't fully healed. The stifling expectations, the judgmental gazes, and the rigid hierarchy of high society grated on his spirit. The opulence and pretence of the upper echelons of society are a stark contrast to the freedom he found in the streets. The disdain for high society is not just a rejection of his past; it's a rebellion against the very structures that sought to confine him.
• Disrespect to his name: Reputation is everything in the underworld, and Gus takes great pride in the name he has carved for himself. Disrespect towards the Larkspur name or any attempts to besmirch his reputation are met with swift and calculated retaliation. Gus may live in the shadows, but his reputation is a valuable asset, and he guards it fiercely against those who would tarnish it.
• Traditions and Those Who Cling to Them: The rigid traditions of high society, with their outdated norms and stifling expectations, are a source of resentment for Gus. He despises those who blindly adhere to tradition without questioning or challenging the status quo. The rebels within him reject the notion of being bound by societal norms, and anyone trying to enforce such traditions is met with a rebellious spirit.
• Incompetence: Gus has little patience for those who lack skill or competence in their chosen endeavours. Whether it's a fellow thief bungling a heist, a mage failing to execute a spell, or a partner unable to hold their own in a dangerous situation, Gus finds incompetence infuriating. In the dangerous world he navigates, relying on others requires a certain level of trust, and Gus has little tolerance for those who jeopardize the success of their endeavours through sheer incompetence.

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Skills and Abilities:

Abilities:

• Illusory Mirage: Gus can weave intricate illusions that deceive the senses of those around him. Whether creating phantom images to distract enemies or crafting illusions to disguise himself and his allies, this ability adds a layer of mystique and misdirection to his repertoire. The illusions can be used strategically in both combat and stealth, allowing Gus to manipulate perception to his advantage.
• Shadowmeld: Embracing the shadows, Gus can seamlessly blend into the darkness, becoming nearly invisible to the naked eye. This ability enhances his stealth capabilities, allowing him to move undetected and strike from unexpected angles. Shadowmeld also grants him heightened awareness in low-light environments, making him a master of navigating the shadows with silent grace.
• Enchanting Persuasion: Gus possesses an enchanting aura that allows him to magically influence the emotions and decisions of those around him. This mystical persuasion goes beyond mere charm, tapping into the subtle currents of magic to weave a compelling influence. Whether convincing a guard to look the other way, negotiating with potential allies, or sowing discord among enemies, Gus's enchanting influence is a magical touch that adds an ethereal quality to his social manipulation.

What are the drawbacks of those abilities?

• Magical Strain: Creating and maintaining complex illusions can be mentally taxing. Extended or intricate use of Illusory Mirage may leave Gus fatigued, affecting his ability to focus on subsequent tasks, both magical and mundane. Additionally, the illusions may not fool creatures with a high resistance to magical deception, making this ability less effective against certain adversaries.
• Limited Visibility: While in the shadows, Gus may find it challenging to discern details in the environment, potentially leading to unseen obstacles or unexpected dangers. In brightly lit areas, the effectiveness of Shadowmeld diminishes, making it less reliable in broad daylight. Additionally, prolonged use of this ability may strain his eyes, causing temporary sensitivity to light when he emerges from the shadows.
• Magic Susceptibility: The enchanting magic used in this ability is not foolproof. Individuals with a strong resistance to magical influence may be less affected or completely immune to Gus's charms. Additionally, repeated use of Enchanting Influence on the same individual can lead to a diminishing effect, making it less effective over time. The magical nature of this persuasion may also attract the attention of magical beings or entities sensitive to such enchantments.

Skills:

• Sleight of Hand: With nimble fingers and a keen eye for detail, Gus is a master of sleight of hand. Whether it's picking pockets, discreetly swapping items, or performing dazzling tricks to distract and confuse, his proficiency in this skill makes him invaluable in situations that require finesse and subtlety. Gus's sleight of hand is not just about theft; it's a versatile tool that can turn the tide in various scenarios, from evading capture to gaining the upper hand in negotiations.
• Stealth: Gus moves through the shadows with a silent grace, blending seamlessly into the darkness. His keen awareness of his surroundings and ability to move undetected make him an exceptional stealth operative. Whether infiltrating enemy territory, gathering information unnoticed, or orchestrating surprise attacks, Gus's expertise in stealth ensures that the group can navigate dangerous situations with minimal risk. His agility and awareness of potential threats make him an asset when discretion is paramount.
• Deception: A silver-tongued trickster, Gus excels in the art of deception. Whether it's spinning elaborate lies to manipulate others, creating convincing disguises to infiltrate forbidden places, or charming his way out of tight spots, his skill in deception is a valuable asset to the group. Gus's ability to read people and play on their expectations makes him a cunning strategist, able to turn adversaries into unwitting allies or sow confusion among enemies. In a world where information is power, Gus's deceptive prowess provides the group with a strategic advantage.

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Extra Information:

He has taken in a stray cat he has called Ayla to remember their encounter under the moon’s light. Theme Song:

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

@Single Malt Thank you! ^^

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

Would Gus still fit in this iteration?

The Hourglass Order

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”You’re always such a dear to me, Charlotte. Taking care of such a mess of a woman must be quite the task.” Dorothea tried to compliment her dearest aide.. ”I have not been able to truly enjoy myself ever since he…” ”I know, the world has become much more bleak in one year, hasn’t it?”

”May I ask you something?” Dory interjected as she tried not to linger on such a subject for too long. ”Of course, meine Frau.” ”How are things back home? Did the small assembly of trust hold together?” The countess’ expression warped to a much darker one. ”Or do I need to come over there to set things straight?”

Charlotte’s eyes widened to such a question. ”The assembly at times squabbles amongst each other but do not fear, they do manage to rule in your stead to a… decent degree.” Dory did not say much on the answer to her question. In some ways, she seemed to be satisfied with herself. ”Do you think I’m strong now?” ”You’ve always been strong, mein Fraulein.” ”That is not what I meant!” The room fell silent.

”What I mean is real strength. Not any of that ‘knowledge is power’ Blödsinn.” The woman’s hand shook. ”During my last visit to the capital I was shown how truly powerless I was. That hure Annalie was so much stronger than me that I could not even move my body. Her magic was just that much better!” ”I am sure that you are stronger than you were back then, Dory.”

”That Sau wanted to make me nothing but a puppet for their own convenience. I’ll show her that as long as I’m alive the Hohnstein name shall not be dirtied any further.” The aide tugged on her collar in discomfort. ”On another topic… It seems that your team is doing pretty well. If I may ask, what made you want to change teams?” Dory rolled her eyes. ”Well you know, the elusive ‘scorpion’ was not really doing anything and did not talk at all. The Vossoriyan was too busy with her business to do anything for the trials… And poor Yalen’s tethering was really catching up with him, the lad has started to really walk poorly. In the end it was not my idea. Little Marceline was even more frustrated than I was and offered the idea of getting traded out to another team.” She leaned back as she let out a soft sigh. ”Shame we couldn’t be on the same team until the end. I’ve become rather attached to her, perhaps it might have been due to our shared loss. I want to be there for her in whatever way I can.” Her expression brightened. ”Even heard the girl had found a boy she showed interest in. It reminds me of last year, though I would hope it involved a lot less alcohol than my first meeting with him.”

Charlotte’s expression warmed up. Perhaps Dory was just going through some hard times, for it was good to see her caring side has not faded away. Her eyes began to scan around and to her surprise… that ominous circlet was nowhere to be found. ”Where did that circlet go, mein Fraulein? I thought you were rather attached to it.” Dory smiled brightly in response to her aide’s question. ”An Enthish lad asked if he could borrow it, so I struck a deal with him. I don’t know why he wanted jewelry for a limited time, perhaps he wanted to look fancy for the ladies.”

”Are you certain he will give it back to you?” Charlotte doubted it would even be in the back of the head of the man she lent it to. Enthish people weren't people that kept their word. ”Oh, don’t worry about that Charlotte, I am more than certain they will give it back to me.”

”Ah, would you look at the time! It is getting late. We need to be wide awake if we want to do well in the final game. I am both excited and scared to fight other students like this, you know?” Dory tried to giggle her worries away. ”I am sure you will go much farther than I will. I am an average mage with decent skill with a blade.” ”I would like to thank you for helping me get a hang of that sword, you’ve been more than I could ask for.” Charlotte stood up from her seat and walked towards the door. ”It is my duty as your aide and my pleasure as your friend.” She opened the door and looked back. ”Have a good night’s rest, mein Fraulein. The last game will require your all.” and with that the door closed.

---

But the night was not over for the aide. They had to meet with someone first. ”I’m here, you can stop hiding yourself.” A click of the tongue could be heard from the corner of the room as the hooded figure showed himself. ”You’re a real buzzkill, you know? I was trying to be all mysterious and cool.” The Feskan looked at the figure with a surprised look. ”But did we not schedule this meeting already? It would be hard for me to be surprised.” Theatrics, Charlotte! It’s all about setting a stage.”

”Of course…” The hooded figure did not look satisfied with such a response. ”Ugh, anyways.” He clapped his hands together. ”Did you get that thing?” Charlotte tried to avoid the figure’s eyes. ”Charlotte, you did get it, right?” ”I wish I could say that I did, but even lady Dorothea does not have it at the current moment.” The Feskan replied. ”What do you mean she doesn’t have it?” the hooded figure asked hastily. ”What I mean is that she does not have it.” Charlotte looked rather frustrated. ”You can’t be serious, right? She always wears that thing to the point it became weird… and now she just doesn’t have it in her possession?”

”Correct.”

”Does she seem any different without that thing around?”

”Hardly.”

”Then was it something else? It can’t be! It has to be that circlet.” the hooded figure thought aloud.

”She lent it but might get it back after the trials are finished.”

”Charlotte, if that is the case. Could you be there when that thing gets returned to her? To see if you can find any changes in her behavior.” Charlotte sighed. ”I can’t guarantee it, but I can try.” the hooded figure nodded. ”That is all I can ask from a dear friend, thank you.”

”I think that concludes it for this time.” the figure began to hide among the shadows once more. ”Meet me whenever you know something new.” Charlotte saluted sloppily. ”You got it boss… but does it have to be this late at night every time we meet up?” ”Yes! It creates ambience. Now go, I must think about this revelation.” Charlotte began to leave the room. ”Whatever you say. I’ll see you in a couple days again.”