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kurishiri · 2 months ago

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14 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: depiction of fire.

Kate: It seems like... I have fallen for you.

When I murmured this, though...

Alfons: ...Well that is nothing short of a nuisance.

When I heard an answer that shouldn’t have come, I let out a gasp.

Kate: Alfo... w-wait, you were awake...!?

Just a moment ago, his steady breathing indicated he had been asleep, but now his eyes were open, and in those ashy gray eyes,

a hint of exasperation seeped its way in.

Alfons: So you say you ‘have fallen’ for me... it seems this has taken a rather troublesome turn.

While sitting up in a languid motion, Alfons combed his fingers through his hair.

Alfons: Whatever you’re feeling, it’s nothing but a delusion, I’d say. A hallucination.

A: You simply happened to be saved while you were in a pickle by a man who had given you pleasure, mixing that up for feelings of romance, no?

Kate: Did you just say I was ‘mixing that up’...?

(How dare he say that when he knows nothing about the feelings I’ve been going through before I came to his room...)

I felt blood rise to my head then.

Kate: ...For the record, I don’t really mind if you don’t give me an answer...

K: But I sure would appreciate it if you didn’t act as though you know what I’m feeling...!

Alfons: ...And how would you know if something like feelings, which bear no tangible form, is really there?

His fingers made their way to my chin...

Kate: T-that...

Alfons: ...Yes, go on?

...and when he pulled on it, I felt his breath tickle my lips,

causing my body to throb involuntarily in anticipation.

It seemed like Alfons had expected this reaction, as a smile played on his lips.

Alfons: Until you realize you are mistaken, I’ll be keeping all things pleasure behind closed doors, alright?

A: Were I to touch you in such a way... I’m sure I would only end up feeding into such delusions, anyhow.

Kate: ...gh.

Alfons: Alright, enough of that. Would you care to let an injured person like myself rest some more now?

His hand let go of me just like that, and he distanced himself, no longer bothering to touch me further.

He refused to listen to a word I had to say, even though he was the one who had reached out to me so persistently in the first place.

(I knew it would come to this, and yet...)

The pain in my heart was cruel.

It hurt so much, I could hardly bear it.

Kate: ...I... I understand. Have a good night...

I left the room as if running away, the door closing with a bang that rang loud and clear.

Alfons: ...Hehe.

A: I actually do like you a lot myself as well.

A: But that’s why... it would be best if this all remained a delusion.

——His whispers, having no way of reaching anyone else, simply dissipated in the air.

—— Time skip ——

Based on the information Alfons and I gleaned from having infiltrated the hotel that was exclusively for members of the ‘purification’ club,

the name Lord Goa, a member of the parliament, came up as someone heavily involved in the incidents that had occurred in the East End.

With that, William and Victor were able to perform a thorough investigation on him and his faction.

Victor: ——In regards to the ‘confidential’ letter in question, inside was a check to a company with phenomenal business conditions.

Before the members of Crown gathered in the dining room, Victor shared the details surrounding the current circumstances.

Victor: As for the contents of the check itself, there weren’t any problems.

V: That said, though, it’s fully possible this is compensation for those who will carry out their plan to set fire to the Docklands.

William: This company that handles the flow of money has long been marked as a front company, very likely connected to a criminal organization.

Alfons: In other words, it was a blatant distraction, yes?

(But, even if we know that...)

Kate: I take it this check alone wouldn’t be enough evidence to be able to dispatch the police, right...?

Harrison: Yeah, seems right.

H: It isn’t enough to prove the ‘plan to commit arson’ itself is in the works, nor does it prove that Lord Goa is a part of it.

H: And even if the recipient company of the check were involved in the plan, it seems nigh impossible they’d believe us with just this.

Victor: That is all true. But, you see, Kate, it’s exactly for times like these that we are here.

V: In order to protect the prosperity of England, we ‘use evil to condemn evil’——such is our motto here in Crown.

Hearing Victor’s words, my head shot up.

Victor: I bring you an order from Her Majesty the Queen.

V: ‘Stop the arson incident in the Docklands, and condemn the faction of the ‘purification’ club which Lord Goa is a part of.’

His jewel-like eyes, filled with a darkness more deep than the dark itself, glimmered with a bewitching light... and it sent shivers up my spine.

Victor: ——By the way, Alfons.

All of a sudden, Victor turned to look at Alfons.

Victor: How is that wound from yesterday’s mission faring?

Alfons: I simply found myself a tad too caught up in a practical prank and made a blunder, if you will.

Kate: Wh—no, that wound is...

[1] I should be the one taking responsibility.

[2] He covered for me. (+4 / +4)

[3] ... (stay silent)

Kate: He ended up covering for me, so...

Alfons: I just so happened to be in a position to block the bullet.

(As if. There’s no way Alfons just ‘happened’ to be there when he was in the inner part of the room right before he was shot.)

(And he is still covering for me, so as to not make my situation worse.)

(And yet, he distances himself like that…)

I wish he wouldn’t be so kind, and yet I couldn’t help but feel happy too.

(…He is a liar, and a cruel person to boot, through and through.)

As ordered by Victor, the ones who were going to carry out this mission were:

Alfons, Lord Elbert, Roger, and for some odd reason, Jude and Ellis.

Victor: When it comes to the Ports of London, Jude is the one who’s most familiar with that area, I take it?

Jude: …Hah, ya can bet yer bottle I’m the most familiar outta this bunch.

Victor: And Kate? Do you think you’ll be able to go with?

V: I imagine going on missions day after day would tire you out, so don’t push yourself.

Kate: …No, it’s fine. This is my responsibility as fairytale keeper, so I’ll go with.

(…I truly am a fool, aren’t I.)

Here I was, going on about how it’s my ‘responsibility’ and whatnot, but my true feelings laid elsewhere.

(Even though Alfons does nothing but push me away… I don’t want to take my eyes off of him.)

After all, I had thought to myself that if I wasn’t looking at him, he would end up just up and disappearing somewhere.

(…And this feeling, just as Alfons said,)

(was a delusion——that’s how it needed to be, and yet…)

——Now that I had realized my feelings for him, I had no way of knowing how to bury this love to the grave.

In the Docklands, illegal immigrants were going to be punished by an ‘eternal fire.’

On the night the plan was going to take place…

Dirtied man: Who’s there!?

The silhouettes who were squirming about in the darkness of the port city made a stir upon the sudden arrival of visitors.

Jude: How goes it, ya lot? We’ll be here a while.

Ellis: I’d say there are around——seven? If I had to guess.

Dirtied man: Tch, they said if there are any witnesses the reward’s as good as gone. Get ‘em!

The men who had seemingly been spreading oil around wielded weapons and ganged up, lunging for the two.

Jude: Hah, swingin’ around those steel pipes… how ya all pulled the short end of the stick, not even gettin’ yer hands a gun.

Dirtied man: Wah!? W-what the—!?

Just when I thought Ellis jumped high enough to be above their heads,

the men’s wrists seemed to become bound by a rope unseen to the naked eye, restraining them.

Dirtied man: W-what the hell did you do!?

Ellis: Shh, quiet down a little… we don’t want to disturb the neighbors.

Jude: If ya lot were gonna be playin’ with fire for some bees and honey, ya may as well have all hit the hay instead, ain’t that right?

With that, Jude poked the restrained men’s foreheads with his index finger.

And the next moment, the men, who had just been shouting, collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Kate: …I take it those were their abilities?

Elbert: That’s right… Ellis has the ability to restrain the movements of those whose head he touches. And Jude can put others to sleep by touching their forehead.

Alfons: What a golden pair for interrogation and assassination, dare I say.

Jude had said, ‘If I wanted to get rid of illegal immigrants, I’d aim here,’ while marking down some places,

namely a corner of a residential area, an alleyway that lined the pubs, and the port city, and so Crown went to detain the to-be arsonists without a hitch.

(And this is the last place Jude had marked.)

(It would be nice if we could stop the incidents altogether though…)

Elbert: How is the perimeter looking, Roger?

Roger: …Two blocks away, there’s one at four o’clock.

Elbert: Their companion, perhaps?

Roger: Nah, I doubt it. It sounds pretty darn suspicious… and it’s heading straight this way.

Alfons: Coming to see what’s going on after hearing something suspicious is very much a fool’s errand, is it not.

A: Do leave this careless, poor witness in my care.

Saying that, Alfons left the storage room.

(——!)

—— Scene change; outside ——

While hiding myself in the shadows, I peeked outside…

Alfons: Good evening to you. What a lovely night it is, no?

…where I found Alfons, who had just discreetly touched the back of what seemed to be the witness’ neck.

Alfons: “You saw nothing that went down here. You are on your way home, dearly needing some sleep.”

I could hear how his whispers resembled that of a lullaby as they rode the zephyr of the night.

(He could have shown them something to scare them, or threaten them away, and yet...)

Whenever he used his ability, he always spoke words that calmed the heart.

(And if I asked him why that is... I’m sure he would say something along the lines of ‘it would be a load of trouble if they made too much noise.’)

—— Scene change; storage room ——

Alfons: Goodness gracious... I would have preferred them to choose a less conspicuous place at the very least.

By the time Alfons returned, Jude and the others had tied the perpetrators up with a rope.

Kate: ...I guess with this, we managed to stop the incident.

Spreading the map with the marks open, I made sure we didn’t miss any spots before letting out a sigh in relief.

Roger: Well, that’s assuming Jude hasn’t missed a place.

Jude: The hell ya gettin’ at?

Roger: And I’m going to make sure the number of people here match up with the heartbeats I’m hearing——

Just when Roger interrupted over Jude...

Kate: !?

Along with an explosion, a flame started from within the storage room.

The fire crawled outward on the floor, the heat burning my skin.

(W-why all of a sudden...!? I thought we had all of the perpetrators——)

Alfons: It would appear the oil scattered all over the ground has vaporized and some sparks have ignited this.

Kate: D-did you just say ‘some sparks’!?

Roger: As curious as that is, first things first, we gotta put out the fire. Elbie, let’s bring over the fire extinguisher from the carriage.

Elbert: On it.

Jude: Tch, there ain’t nothing worth more trouble than these scumbags burnin’ to smithereens before makin’ them spit out the tea.

Ellis: Jude and I will take the perpetrators out of here.

Making quick judgments about their current situation, the members of Crown started to move.

(I should help where I can as well...)

The next moment, I tried to run as though being struck by something, when...

(——Huh?)

What I saw before my eyes was an unbelievable sight, causing my feet to stay rooted in its spot.

Alfons: Kate, if you inhale any more smoke, you may end up burning your lungs. So if you could move a bit more——

Kate: Wait just a minute! Over there...!

Beyond the burning flames, when I squinted my eyes...

There, I saw a young boy crouched on the floor, his face filled with fear.

Alfons: ...Ahh, so that’s how it is.

A: It would seem while all his friends were captured, he was hiding with a bated breath, I reckon.

Kate: W-when you say ‘friends’...

K: Are you insinuating he was directly involved in executing the arson...!?

Alfons: Have a look at the boy’s feet.

When I did, I saw that scattered about his feet, illuminated by the flames, were what appeared to be matchboxes.

Alfons: That boy is said ‘sparks.’

A: I reckon he was hiding in the shadows, biding the right time.

(But why would such a child... no, I don’t have time to think about such things.)

(Right now, somehow saving him takes priority...!)

Kate: Stay right there! And be sure to stay low and try not to inhale the fumes...!

Alfons: ......... [surprised]

(At this rate the fire will block the way out... but if he jumps in just like that, he’ll suffer from severe burns.)

(I’ll need to somehow open a path for him to escape through...)

When I looked around my surroundings, my eyes stopped on some sandbags that were piled atop one another adjacent to the storage room.

(That will do...!)

Kate: ...gh!

I jumped straight in, somehow managing to hold the heavy sandbags and throwing them amid the flames.

Then I ran back, lifting up another sandbag.

(Urgh, it’s so heavy...)

Alfons: What in the world are you doing?

Alfons crouched down beside me, meeting my eyes.

Kate: That child might not make it by the time we can put out the fire with an extinguisher.

K: So I thought to stack these sandbags to create an escape route...

Alfons: The one who started this fire was none other than that child, you know.

Kate: Yes, but... this and that are two different things!

Alfons: ......... [surprised]

A: ...haa.

A: Just what am I to do with such a straightforward one like yourself?

(Ah...)

He let out an exasperated laugh before he took the sandbag from me before throwing it into the flames.

(Alfons...)

Alfons: Let’s get it together now. The boy won’t be living through this if you stand so idle.

And so, we carried the sandbags, trying our best to go back and forth,

when Roger and Lord Elbert came running while carrying the fire extinguisher from the carriage, starting to spray the vicinity around the sandbags.

——And at last, albeit small, we managed to make a path he could escape through.

Kate: It’s fine now! So come this way!

Young boy: ...

The boy, whose face was filled with fear still, stayed crouching down, trembling.

Alfons: He’s not coming, is he. Perhaps fear has him paralyzed?

Kate: If that’s the case, we have to go and get him...!

But the moment I tried to run in, he grabbed my arms from behind.

Kate: Wh—Alfons...!?

Alfons: Goodness...

Pushing me behind him, Alfons jumped into the fire through the small escape route,

and as though he were taking a stroll, he walked over to the young boy with light steps——and touched the back of his neck.

Alfons: Come now... “you feel neither the fear nor the heat.”

Young boy: ...gh...! ...?

The fear vanished from the boy’s face, replaced by a puzzled expression.

While holding the boy in his arms, Alfons returned with the same light steps he had went in with.

Alfons: Here you are. A delivery for a most good-natured little robin.

Kate: ...Everything’s alright now.

Young boy: huhu... waaah!

Perhaps he had felt so much fear, but it seemed the illusion cast upon his heart that he ‘wasn’t scared’ had quickly worn off,

and the young boy burst into tears in my arms.

—— Scene change; lounge ——

Apparently, that young boy had been living in poverty, and having been deceived by some bad adults, he was made to take part in this evil plot.

According to Roger’s examination, the young boy suffered from minor injuries. It was then decided that he would be transferred to a special ward in the Royal Hospital to recover.

(Thank goodness...)

Fatigue hit me right after relief, and my body, feeling heavy, sunk into the sofa like a boat.

Kate: What a long night it’s been...

Alfons, too, sat down in a place a little ways away from me.

Alfons: Good lord, I don’t even remember the last time I was subjected to such physical labor.

A: And now thanks to that, I’ve been rendered sore left and right.

Kate: Hm...? Is it really alright for you not to go, Alfons?

K: Just now, everyone else said they were going to interrogate the perpetrators...

Alfons: Such things are better left in the hands of those who know how to best — namely Jude and the others.

With a dismissive wave, Alfons laughed.

And all of a sudden, I remembered the way his back was lit up by the flames as he ran for the young boy.

Kate: And thank you... for saving that child.

K: It made me really happy.

K: But... I also had a feeling you would help anyhow as well.

Hearing my words after the ‘but,’ Alfons laughed, as though fed up.

Alfons: In the face of how oppressive your sense of justice was, I ended up doing what I did... but now regret is starting to plague me.

A: How I wish I could catch the look of despair on your face upon the realization the boy couldn’t be saved after all.

(I long knew those were not his true feelings.)

Kate: ...So you say, but then you go and show illusions because you can’t stand seeing such a face.

Alfons: I see nothing can convince you otherwise.

Kate: Yes, because to me, that is the ‘truth.’

I quite enjoyed the exchanges he and I shared that resembled something like banter, or perhaps just messing around in good fun.

——Having only realized this now, I felt a pang in my heart once again.

(I knew it, I really do like Alfons.)

(...There’s no way I can simply play it off as a delusion.)

Alfons: .........

He spared me a glance before he stood from his seat.

(He’s running away again.)

With such a hunch, my body started to move.

Alfons: Now then... I think I’ll go have a drink or two.

Kate: If that’s so, I will too.

I stood up and took a step, closing a bit of the distance between us.

Kate: Please take me with you.

to be continued…

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justcallmefox89 · 10 months ago

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Gale and the Gith: Chapter Eleven - Inferior Part II

Gale, Lae'zel, Astarion, and X'aa'nath reach the creche.

“I would like to state my objection to this plan one last time.”

“My people offer you purification.” Lae’zel sneers at Astarion. “Or would you rather succumb to the parasite in your head?”

“Oh it’s not the purification I object to, darling. It’s the wandering around an abandoned monastery full of murderous gith I have qualms about,” Astarion replies, baring his fangs at her.

“All will be well, Astarion,” X’aa’nath interjects quietly, stepping between the two. “My kin will not harm you. I swear.”

Uncertainty flits over the vampire’s delicate features for a moment, but he manages a small smile and nods his assent. “After you then, my dear.”

As Lae’zel shoulders open the doors leading to the lower levels of the abandoned monastery, Gale steps closer to X’aa’nath.

“You don’t have to do this,” Gale whispers, taking note of the slightly panicked way the sorcerer’s eyes are darting about and the harshness of his breathing.

“I…” X’aa’nath falters monetarily, but quickly collects himself. “I am githyanki. Purification is the will of my queen. I must obey.”

Gale’s chest squeezes at the resigned tone of his voice, but a warning cry prevents the wizard from responding.

“Sentries, to arms! Istik. State your purpose. Quickly!”

X’aa’nath snarls at the guard’s insult, baring sharp teeth, and takes a threatening step forward.

“Stand down, gish,” Lae’zel commands. “Is it not Vlaakith’s command to welcome her faithful?”

“I expected no visitors, faithful or otherwise. Especially in the company of the Khou’zal’s runt.” The guard eyes X’aa’nath scornfully.

The air crackles with electricity and X’aa’nath’s hair floats around his shoulders as the faint smell of ozone permeates the air. Astarion slinks behind Gale as X’aa’nath’s eyes take on a faint, blue glow. The four guards freeze in place, clawing at their throats as an unseen entity quietly siphons the air from their lungs.

“You dare speak the name of the great Jhe’stil Kithrak Khou’zal with such scorn, gish?”

A shiver crawls up Gale’s spine at the soft, threatening tone of X’aa’nath’s voice.

“As much as I do adore drama, don’t you think one of you should do something?” Astarion whispers urgently as the guard’s boots begin to smoke.

“Kin.” Lae’zel places her hand on X’aa’nath’s shoulder, wincing as a stray tendril of magic sparks against her bare skin. “We require their aid.”

He silently glares out her out of the corner of his eye, refusing to relinquish his hold over the guards.

“You can kill them after we’ve been cured,” she promises under her breath.

Gale begins to protest, but Astarion is quicker, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his words. “Shut. Up,” he hisses.

X’aa’nath takes a deep, shuddering breath and reluctantly begins reeling in his magic; the guards slump to the ground, sucking in air with deep, greedy breaths.

“We require treatment. Where is your ghustil?” Lae’zel asks.

One of the guards raises an arm and gestures towards the general direction of the infirmary with a shaking hand.

“Come, kin.” Lae’zel tugs on the sleeve of X’aa’nath’s robe, urging him to stay close to her. Astarion and Gale follow the pair closely, senses heightened as they venture deeper into the creche.

The githyanki of this creche are in near constant motion, unease marking their movements as they carry out their daily activities. X’aa’nath and Lae’zel whisper to each other in gith, their expressions becoming increasingly troubled.

Astarion clears his throat. Loudly. “Would either of you care to share with the rest of the class?”

X’aa’nath hangs back with Gale and Astarion, glancing at Lae’zel before answering. “An Inquisitor is visiting the creche.”

“Why? Is he part of the search for the artefact?”

X’aa’nath shrugs, rubbing his forehead. “Potentially. No matter the reason we need to stay far away from him and leave as soon as we have concluded our business with the ghustil.”

“Kin!” Lae’zel calls.

X’aa’nath hurries to catch up to her, throwing them one last concerned look over his shoulder.

The group finds the creche’s doctor hunched over a microscope, painstakingly dissecting a mindflayer tadpole and muttering to herself.

“If you require treatment, take a seat, kin. Or do you have a question?” she asks suddenly, turning away from her dissection.

“I am Lae’zel, of creche K’llir. I have come for purification.”

The doctor pushes away from her workstation, suddenly energized. “Cursed is the day that even we become ghaik incubators. How long has it been since you were infected?”

“Several days. Any with none of the initial symptoms associated with ceremorphosis,” X’aa’nath answers softly.

Her eyes light on the sorcerer with a sort of predatory glee that instantly sets Gale’s teeth on edge.

“You are infected, but showing no signs of cerebral impairment? Fascinating. Either your tadpole is special, or you are. We must find out which.” A pause. “Though as Khou’zal’s experiment you are rather unique in your own right. An interesting specimen for study either way.”

Gale catches a barely there movement out of the corner of his eye as Astarion unobtrusively slides a hand towards his daggers, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his unease at the doctor’s interest in X’aa’nath.

“To the zaith’isk. I will ensure that you are cured.” She claps her hands, urging them towards a device made of twisted flesh and pockmarked metal. “Few ever experience the zaith’isk. You are very lucky, kin.”

A strange magic, cold and alien, emanates from the device. Gale stays a safe distance away, unnerved, Astarion at his side. Lae’zel and X’aa’nath have no such qualms, staring at the device with an almost reverent fascination.

“The zaith’isk. Vlaakith’s purity, distilled. My duty. My right,” she murmurs.

X’aa’nath’s gaze flickers uncertainly between her and the machine, but he ultimately bows his head in respect and takes a small step away. “Go ahead, kin. You’ve earned it.”

“Praise Vlaakith, let it be done.”

“Sit, child.” The doctor urges Lae’zel to lay back onto the machine. “Let the zaith’isk end your suffering.”

“Why do that sound ominous?” Astarion whispers to Gale. The wizard just shakes his head, trying to calm his mounting anxiety.

“You must focus on the parasite at all times. The zaith’isk will do the rest,” the doctor continues, making a few small adjustments to the machine.

Without warning a nearly blinding light flashes through the room as the zaith’isk groans to life. X’aa’nath falls to his knees, hands clutched in his hair as he cries out in unison with Lae’zel. Wariness of the alien machine forgotten, Gale moves next to X’aa’nath holding him tight as he screams in gith.

“Vlaakith tavki na’zin. Vlaakith tavki na’zin!”

“Yes, children! Speak the Tla’ket! Meditate on its verses!” the doctor cries gleefully.

“What the hells is happening to them?” Astarion demands, shouting to be heard above the roar of the machine and the giths’ pained cries.

“I don’t know!” Gale responds helplessly.

“Isn’t that your job? To know things?”

Lae’zel screams again, thrashing against the machine. X’aa’nath shakes in Gale arms and trickles of blood leak from his nostrils. Despite their obvious pain, both continue to chant in gith, entreating their queen in to cure them.

“So… we’re just going to stand here and let it kill them? Is that our plan?” Astarion asks, beginning to panic.

So close to X’aa’nath, Gale feels the artefact he carries stir to life. Faint vibrations radiate from the artefact, and a droning buzz soon drowns out the other chaos in the room. The zaith’isk shakes and rattles ominously, the light surrounding it now painful to look at. Gale realizes what’s happening with only seconds to spare; he shoves X’aa’nath flat to the ground, shielding him with his body at the zaith’isk explodes.

Thankfully Lae’zel is thrown free from the worst of the wreckage; Astarion helps her up as Gale carefully wipes the worst of the blood away from X’aa’nath’s face with a clean handkerchief before helping him stagger to her feet.

“What madness is this? The zaith’isk nearly destroyed me!” Lae’zel shrieks. “I am githyanki! I will not be ghaik!”

The doctor lets out a screech of anguish. “No… no! The zaith’isk! What have you done? My life’s work… gone. And yet she lives… and so does her parasite.”

“The zaith’isk tried to kill Lae’zel,” X’aa’nath slurs, holding onto Gale’s arm for balance. “And it failed.

“The zaith’isk does not fail.” The doctor glares at him. “The only variable in the experience was her – and her parasite. And I will uncover how this happened. Wait here. I will gather my tools.” The doctor storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Clearly agitated, Lae’zel begins to pace. “I followed protocol. I kept to my faith. And yet the zaith’isk might have killed me. The ghustil tampered with it. Traitor – and there may be more still! This must be why the Inquisitor has come.”

“Kin,” X’aa’nath sighs, leaning heavily against Gale. The wizard tentatively wraps an arm around his waist, pressing the sorcerer close to his side.

“No! Vlaakith does not abandon her faithful! The zaith’isk was tampered with. There is no other explanation. Now hurry. We must go to the ch’r’rai and inform him of the doctor’s sedition.”

X’aa’nath’s shoulders sag as he recognizes the futility of arguing with her. “As you say, kin.”

“I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Astarion calls out as he tries to open the door that exits the doctors laboratory. “But we’ve been locked in.”

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aishangotome · 6 months ago

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Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 14

Chapter 13

♡———♡

Kate: I think... I've fallen in love with you.

I mutter softly -

Alfons: ...That's troublesome.

!....A gasp escapes my throat at the unexpected reply.

Kate: A-Alfons... you're... awake...!?

The eyelids of Alfons, who should have been snoring, lift, and his gray eyes reveal only a look of exasperation.

Alfons: You say you like me... This is the most troublesome development.

Kate: ...

Alfons sits up languidly and runs his fingers through his hair.

Alfons: It's just an illusion, an illusion.

Alfons: You're probably mistaking love for a man who happens to save you in a pinch and makes you feel good.

Kate: An illusion...?

(He doesn't even know how I felt before coming to his room...)

I can't help but feel my blood rush to my head.

Kate: ...I don't need you to reciprocate my feelings, but...

Kate: Please don't dismiss my feelings...!

Alfons: ...Feelings are intangible, how can you know they're real?

His fingers touch my chin.

Kate: Well...

Alfons: ...Well?

He pulls me closer, his breath tickling my lips... and my body aches with anticipation.

As if sensing this, he smiles faintly.

Alfons: Until you realize it's a misunderstanding, you're not getting any more pleasure.

Alfons: If I touch you like this... it'll only accelerate your misunderstanding.

Kate: ...

Alfons: Now, I'm injured. Would you please let me rest?

He easily releases me, not even trying to touch me anymore.

Even though he wouldn't listen to my refusals and kept reaching out to me so persistently.

(I should have known, but...)

My chest aches terribly.

It's so painful.

Kate: ...I understand. Good night...

I leave the room as if running away, and the door slams shut.

Alfons: ...Haha.

Alfons: I quite like you too, you know.

Alfons: That's why... it would be troublesome if it wasn't a misunderstanding.

--His murmur dissolves into the air, unknown to anyone.

From the information Alfons and I obtained by sneaking into the "Purification" club's members-only hotel, the name of Gore, a member of the House of Lords, surfaced as a person deeply involved in the East End incident. William and Victor were to thoroughly investigate him and his faction.

Victor: ---The contents of the "confidential" letter were a check. The destination is a company with an extremely clean business model.

Victor shares the details with the Crown members gathered in the dining room.

Victor: There is nothing wrong with the contents of the check itself.

William: But in reality, it's probably a reward for the perpetrator of the arson plan in Docklands.

William: The company where the money flowed had been marked as a possible front company for a criminal organization for some time.

Alfons: It's a blatant distraction.

(But even knowing that...)

Kate: We can't get the police to move with just this one check, can we...?

Harrison: Well, that's right.

Harrison: There's no physical evidence that the "arson plan" even exists, and there's no evidence that Gore is involved.

Harrison: It's unreasonable to expect them to believe that the company the check is addressed to is involved in the plan based on just this one check.

Victor: That's right. But that's why we're here, Kate.

Victor: To fight evil with evil for the prosperity of Britain - that's the mission of the Crown.

I look up at Victor's words.

Victor: It's an order from Her Majesty the Queen.

Victor: To stop the arson in Docklands and punish the "Purification" club faction, including Gore.

His jewel-like eyes, darker than darkness, gleamed bewitchingly... and a shiver ran down my spine.

Victor: -By the way, Alfons.

Suddenly, Victor turns his gaze to Alfons.

Victor: Is the injury from last night's mission okay?

Alfons: I got a little carried away with my pranks and messed up.

Kate: No, that injury...

-CHOICES--

It was supposed to be me

He protected me

..... (stay silent)

---------------

Kate: I was supposed to be the one who got hurt...

Alfons: The gun could have been pointed at either of us. The odds were fifty-fifty.

He utters another smoke-and-mirrors theory as if breathing.

(Alfons was at the back of the room just before he was shot. It wasn't a coincidence.)

(He's protecting me so that I don't get into trouble.)

(Even though he pushed me away like that...)

I don't want him to be kind to me, but part of me is happy.

(...He's really a liar and a horrible person.)

Victor decides to send Alfons, Elbert, Roger, and for some reason, Jude and Ellis on a mission to stop the arson in Docklands.

Victor: Jude, you know the geography of the Port of London and the immigrants in that area, right?

Jude: ...Yeah, I'm the most "knowledgeable" one here.

Victor: Kate, can you come with us?

Victor: If you're tired from the missions every day, you don't have to push yourself.

Kate: ...No. It's my duty as a Fairytale Keeper to accompany you.

(...I'm such a fool.)

I said it was my duty, but my true feelings were elsewhere.

(Even though he just pushed me away like that... I don't want to take my eyes off Alfons.)

I want to keep watching him, as if he might disappear at any moment.

(...These feelings are, as Alfons says,)

(It was a misunderstanding - I have to make it so.)

-I don't know how to bury the love I've become aware of.

"Eternal fire" punishment for the illegal immigrants of Docklands.

On the night of that plan...

Disheveled Man: Who's there!?

A figure lurking in the warehouse district under the cover of darkness is startled by a sudden visitor.

Jude: Good evenin', we're here to interrupt ya fun.

Ellis: There are... about seven of them here?

Disheveled Man: Damn it! We were told we wouldn't get paid if there were witnesses. Get them!

The men, who seemed to have been pouring oil inside the warehouse, rush towards the two with weapons in hand.

Jude: Iron pipes, huh... Ya poor guys can't even get a gun, can ya?

Ellis: I'll be careful not to hurt you.

Disheveled Man: Whoa!? What the-!?

Ellis leaps gracefully, jumping over the men's heads - and by the time I realize it, the men are immobilized as if their wrists were bound by invisible ropes.

Disheveled Man: What the hell did you do!?

Ellis: Shh, quiet... You're disturbing the neighbors.

Jude: Ya should have been sleepin' instead of playin' with fire for money, huh?

Jude taps the foreheads of the restrained men with his index finger.

Instantly, the man who was just shouting falls to the ground as if he's fainted.

Kate: ...Are those your abilities?

Elbert: Yes... Ellis can restrain anyone he touches on the head. Jude can put anyone he touches on the forehead to sleep.

Alfons: They're perfect for interrogation and assassination.

The places Jude marked as "If you want to wipe out illegal immigrants, I'd target this place" were all hits, and Crown successfully captured the arsonists in a corner of a residential area, an alley lined with bars, and this warehouse district in the harbor.

(This is the last place Jude marked.)

(I hope we were able to stop them all...)

Elbert: Roger, what's the situation around us?

Roger: ...Two blocks away, one person at 4 o'clock.

Elbert: One of their friends?

Roger: No, probably not an arsonist. They're approaching... suspiciously after hearing the noise.

Alfons: What a fool to go check out the source of a noise in the middle of the night.

Alfons: Leave the careless and pitiful witness to me.

With that, Alfons slipped out of the warehouse.

(----!)

Hiding in the shadows, I peek outside.

Alfons: Good evening. Lovely night, isn't it?

Alfons smoothly touches the back of the neck of the figure who seems to be the witness.

Alfons: "You didn't see anything here. You must go home and sleep soundly."

A whisper like a lullaby is carried on the night wind.

(He could scare them away by showing them something frightening...)

But when he uses his power, he only whispers words that calm the heart.

(If I asked him why, he'd probably say, "Because it would be troublesome if they caused a commotion.")

Alfons: Good grief... I wish they would plan their schemes in a less conspicuous place.

By the time Alfons returns, the arsonists have been tied up with ropes by Jude and the others.

Kate: ...With this, we should have been able to stop the plan, right?

I spread out the marked map, confirm that there are no omissions, and let out a sigh of relief.

Roger: If Jude didn't miss any spots, that is.

Jude: Huh?

Roger: Next, we need to confirm if the number of guys lying there matches the number of heartbeats in the warehouse, and then-

That's when Roger interrupted Jude.

Kate: !

With a loud explosion, a pillar of fire rises from the back of the warehouse.

The flames crawl across the warehouse floor, and the heat wave scorches my skin.

(Why suddenly...!? We caught all the arsonists-)

Alfons: It seems the oil spilled on the ground vaporized and ignited from some kind of spark.

Kate: S-Some kind of spark!?

Roger: That's concerning, but first we need to put out the fire. El, let's get the fire extinguisher from the carriage.

Elbert: Right.

Jude: Damn, it's troublesome when the trash burns to a crisp before we can squeeze out information.

Ellis: Jude and I will drag the arsonists out.

Crown immediately assesses the situation and starts to move.

(I'll help put out the fire too.)

A beat later, I try to run out as if propelled, but then-

(Huh?)

Something unbelievable appears in my vision, and my feet are rooted to the spot.

Alfons: Kate, inhaling smoke will burn your lungs. You should move a little further away-

Kate: Wait! Over there...!

I strain my eyes to see past the raging flames - and there, cowering in fear, is a young boy.

Alfons: ...Ah, I see.

Alfons: All his friends were captured, so he was probably hiding, holding his breath.

Kate: F-Friends...

Kate: Are you saying that child is an accomplice of the perpetrators...!?

Alfons: Look at the boy's feet.

Illuminated by the flames, matchboxes are scattered around the boy's feet.

Alfons: That boy is the spark.

Alfons: He was probably hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right timing.

(Why, a child like that... Ugh, no time to think about that.)

(Right now, I have to find a way to help him...!)

Kate: Stay there! Get low and try not to breathe in the smoke...!

Alfons: .............

(He won't be able to get out if the flames keep blocking him... If he jumps into the flames, he'll get badly burned.)

(I have to find a way to create an escape route for him...)

I look around and notice sandbags piled up next to the warehouse.

(That's it...!)

Kate: ...!

I jump and manage to lift a heavy sandbag, then throw it into the flames.

Then I run back and lift another sandbag.

(It's heavy...)

Alfons: What are you doing?

Alfons crouches down next to me and meets my gaze.

Kate: The boy might not be able to hold out until the fire extinguisher puts out the flames.

Kate: I'm piling these sandbags to create an escape route...

Alfons: That boy started the fire.

Kate: That's... irrelevant right now!

Alfons: .............

Alfons: ...Sigh.

Alfons: You really are straightforward, aren't you?

(Ah...)

He chuckles in exasperation and takes the sandbag from my hands, then tosses it into the flames.

(Alfons...)

Alfons: Hey, that boy will die if you keep spacing out.

As I desperately carry the sandbags back and forth, Roger and Elbert arrive with fire extinguishers from the carriage and start spraying around the sandbags.

--Eventually, a small path opens up in the flames.

Kate: Come on! Come this way!

Boy: ...

The boy cowers in fear, trembling.

Alfons: He won't come. Maybe his legs have given out.

Kate: Then we have to go get him...!

The moment I try to run, someone grabs my arm from behind.

Kate: Alfons...!?

Alfons: Honestly...

He pushes me back and jumps into the faint path created in the flames. With a light step as if taking a stroll, he approaches the boy and touches the back of his neck.

Alfons: There... "You're not scared, you're not hot."

Boy: ...! ...?

The fear disappears from the boy's face, replaced by confusion.

Alfons lifts the child up and returns with the same light steps as before.

Alfons: Here you go. A gift for the kindhearted robin.

Kate: ...It's alright now.

Boy: Uuu... Waaaaah!

Perhaps the terror had been too great, or the illusion of "not being scared" planted in the boy's mind quickly dissolved, as he burst into tears in my arms.

It seemed the boy had been tricked into aiding in wrongdoing by bad adults in his impoverished life.

According to Roger's examination, the boy had minor injuries. He was to be transferred to the special ward of the Royal Hospital for treatment.

(Thank goodness...)

An overwhelming sense of fatigue washes over me after the relief, and I sink my leaden body onto the sofa.

Kate: It's been a long... night, hasn't it?

Alfons also sits down a short distance away.

Alfons: Honestly, it's been a while since I've done that kind of manual labor.

Alfons: Thanks to you, I'm sore.

Kate: Huh...? You don't have to go, Alfons?

Alfons: They were saying they were going to interrogate the people they caught earlier.

Alfons: I'll leave that kind of thing to the interrogation professionals.

Alfons waves his hand dismissively and laughs.

The image of his back, illuminated by the flames as he headed towards the boy, suddenly resurfaces in my mind.

Kate: Thank you for helping me rescue that boy.

Kate: I was happy.

Kate: But... I also felt like I knew you would help.

He laughs in surprise at the words I add after "but."

Alfons: I was moved by your suffocating sense of justice and acted, but... I'm starting to think I made a mistake.

Alfons: I should have seen your face of despair when we couldn't save the boy.

(I know that's not what he really meant.)

Kate: ...You're the one who goes around showing illusions because you hate seeing faces like that.

Alfons: You really like that theory, don't you?

Kate: It's the "truth" to me.

I quite like our conversations with him, which are like arguments and playful banter.

-I realize that now, and my heart aches again.

(I really do like Alfons.)

(...I can't pretend it was a misunderstanding.)

Alfons: ..........

He glances at my face and stands up from his chair.

(He's trying to run away again.)

I intuitively sense it, and my body moves.

Alfons: Well then... I'm going to go get a drink.

Kate: In that case, me too.

I stand up and take a step closer to him.

Kate: Take me with you.

Chapter 14 Premium Story

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coolbeans32 · 6 months ago

Text

Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader (OC)

SYNOPSIS: For the purposes of not spoiling anything, hehe...It is officially time for the ritual. The ritual that will either bring back Tom Riddle, or one that will cause chaos.

WARNINGS: The following passage contains some themes of death and resurrection and some themes of trauma. If there are any others that need mentioning that I was unable to catch please let me know!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think you will be pleased with this chapter...that's for sure....Happy Reading luvs!

TRANSLATION: “Dissipata animae fragmenta redeant ad unitatem. De tenebris ad lucem, anima vaga, revertere. Vincula animae franguntur, libertatem inveniunt. Animae divisae simul redeant et corpus inveniant. Ab umbris in lucem, tota anima reviviscat.” (Latin)

“Let the scattered fragments of the soul return to unity. From darkness to light, wandering soul, return. The bonds of the soul are broken, let them find freedom. Let the divided souls come back together and find their body. From the shadows into the light, let the whole soul come back to life.” (English)

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Chapter Sixteen

The Ritual

The morning light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a muted glow over the ancient rooms. In the library, Genevieve was surrounded by an array of books, scrolls, and magical instruments. She had been up since the peak of dawn, meticulously preparing for the daunting task ahead: extracting the pieces of Voldemort's soul from Harry and Nagini. Genevieve knew that rune magic was a precise and ancient art, demanding unwavering focus and skill, as her father Gellert had once said. She had spent years studying its intricacies, but the stakes had never been this high, at least with so many years without practice due to her state. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath, centering herself before beginning the complicated process.

First, she laid out a large piece of parchment on the table, its surface blank and waiting. She dipped a quill into a pot of specially prepared ink, a deep red hue that shimmered faintly. The ink was a crucial component, infused with phoenix tears and basilisk venom she found in the secret apothecary built into the Black house, which when combined is potent enough to interact with the fragments of Voldemort's soul. Genevieve began by drawing a large circle, the foundational boundary for the runic array. She moved with practiced precision, her hand steady as she inscribed the outermost symbols, each one representing protection, containment, and purification. These runes would form the barrier to keep the extracted soul pieces from escaping or causing harm.

With the circle complete, Genevieve added inner layers of runes, each set corresponding to specific magical properties. There were runes for severance, to carefully cut the soul fragments from their hosts, and runes for transfer, to safely move the fragments into prepared vessels. The final set of runes were for healing, to mend the spiritual wounds left behind. As Genevieve worked, she recited incantations under her breath, the ancient words resonating with the power of the runes. The air around her seemed to hum with energy, the magic taking shape in response to her efforts.

Meanwhile, in another part of the house, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were trying to keep their minds off the gravity of the situation. They had set up a makeshift game room in the drawing-room, hoping to find some distraction in each other's company.

Ron dealt a hand of Exploding Snap, his movements quick and practiced. "Alright, who's ready to lose?" he said with a grin, trying to inject some levity into the tense atmosphere.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "You wish, Ron. I've been practicing."

Hermione, sitting across from them, managed a smile. "Just try not to blow up the table this time, okay?" They played several rounds, the familiar game providing a welcome respite from their worries. The cards snapped and crackled, and laughter occasionally punctuated the air as they bantered and teased each other.

After a particularly explosive round, Ron leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Do you think Genevieve will be alright? I mean, this rune magic stuff sounds intense."

Hermione nodded, her expression serious. "It is. But if anyone can do it, it's Genevieve. She’s been studying this for years. We have to trust her."

Harry sighed, his thoughts drifting back to the library. "I know. It’s just... hard to sit here and wait."

Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand. "We’re all in this together, Harry. She’ll call us when she’s ready. For now, we need to keep our spirits up, especially you Harry. Being relaxed helps the transfer to be efficient without any form of resistance." As the day wore on, they shifted from games to conversation, reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts, sharing stories of past adventures, and discussing their hopes for the future. They shared memories that helped ease their anxiety, if only for a while, as they continued to enjoy their time together, despite the troubles in the outside world, just this once.

Back in the library, Genevieve was nearing the final steps of her preparation. The runic array was complete, glowing faintly with the power imbued in each symbol. She double-checked her work, ensuring that every line was perfect, every rune precisely where it needed to be. Satisfied, she moved to the next phase: testing the array. She retrieved a small, inert object, a piece of old jewelry, and placed it in the center of the circle. Chanting softly, she activated the runes, watching as the energy flowed through the array. The jewelry glowed briefly, the runes flaring with light as the magic interacted with the object.

After a few moments, the glow subsided, and Genevieve carefully examined the jewelry. It was unharmed, the runic magic having performed as expected. She allowed herself a small smile of relief. The array was ready. With the preparations complete, Genevieve knew it was time to gather the others. She left the library and found Harry, Ron, and Hermione still in the drawing-room, their conversation fading as she approached.

"It's time," she said, her voice steady but solemn. "We’re ready to begin the extraction." The trio exchanged glances, their earlier levity replaced by resolve. They followed Genevieve back to the library, where the runic array awaited. The room felt charged with anticipation, the significance of the moment heavy in the air.

Genevieve turned to face them, her expression calm but determined. "This will be difficult, but we’ve come this far. We can do this. Trust me."

Harry nodded, stepping forward. "Let’s finish this."

Back in the library, the room was bathed in a soft, golden light as Genevieve prepared for the ritual. The runic array on the parchment glowed faintly, the complex symbols resonating with the magic imbued within them. On the table, two necklaces lay side by side, their simple designs belying the monumental task they were about to undertake: becoming the new vessels for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

Harry and Nagini stood nearby, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination. Genevieve motioned for them to take their places. "Please, sit facing each other," she instructed, her voice calm and reassuring. "This will allow the energy to flow more smoothly during the extraction."

Harry and Nagini complied, sitting down across from one another with the necklaces between them. Genevieve positioned herself at the head of the table, her wand in hand, and took a deep breath, centering herself.

"This process will require you both to remain as relaxed as possible," Genevieve said, her eyes moving from Harry to Nagini. "Do not move, no matter what you feel. The runes will guide the extraction, but any sudden movements could disrupt the ritual."

Harry nodded, his jaw set in determination. "We'll do our best."

Nagini, her demeanor composed, added, "We trust you, Genevieve."

Genevieve smiled, “This may feel uncomfortable but I guarantee you both, you won't have to deal with having his soul inside you any more.”

Harry smiled, “We’re ready.”

With that, Genevieve began to chant softly, the ancient words of the incantation filling the room. She moved her wand in a precise pattern, tracing the runes in the air. The runic array on the parchment responded, the symbols glowing brighter as the magic activated.

A soft, pulsing light emanated from the necklaces, signaling the beginning of the extraction. Genevieve directed her wand toward Harry first, her movements fluid and exact. She could feel the resistance as she gently coaxed the fragment of Voldemort's soul from within him, the dark energy struggling against the pull of the runes.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing deep and steady. He felt a strange sensation, like a cold wind swirling inside him, but he remained still, trusting Genevieve to guide the process. Slowly, the dark energy began to flow out of him, drawn towards the necklace. The runes glowed brighter, their light intensifying as the fragment was transferred into the new vessel. With a final, soft incantation, Genevieve completed the extraction. The necklace pulsed with a dark light for a moment before settling, the fragment securely contained. She exhaled slowly, relief washing over her as she turned her attention to Nagini.

"Well done, Harry," she whispered, her voice steady. "Now for the next step."

Nagini met Genevieve's gaze, her eyes calm. Genevieve repeated the process, her wand movements precise and her incantation steady. The runic array responded once more, the symbols flaring to life as they worked to extract the second fragment of Voldemort's soul. Nagini felt a similar cold sensation, the dark energy swirling within her as it was drawn out. She remained perfectly still, her breathing controlled. The fragment flowed from her into the second necklace, the runes glowing fiercely as they completed the transfer.

With the final incantation, Genevieve sealed the fragment within the necklace. The room seemed to exhale with her, the tension easing as the ritual reached its conclusion. The necklaces lay on the table, now containing the dark fragments of Voldemort's soul, their task complete.

Genevieve lowered her wand, her shoulders relaxing. She looked at Harry and Nagini, both of whom were now free from the burden of the Horcruxes. "It's done," she said softly, a small smile of triumph on her lips. "You both did wonderfully."

Harry opened his eyes, feeling lighter than he had in years. "Thank you, Genevieve," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I can't believe it's over."

Nagini nodded, her expression serene. "You've done something remarkable, Genevieve. We can move forward now."

Genevieve's smile widened, relief and hope shining in her eyes. "This is only the first step, but it's a crucial one. With the Horcruxes contained, we can now focus on bringing Tom Riddle back. The next part is something that I will have to do alone. I cannot have you here."

Harry, curiously asked, “Why is that?”

Genevieve turned towards him, “I can’t risk putting anyone else in danger for the rest of the ritual. The runes are complicated and if gone wrong, the vessels may burst and attach to anything alive other than the conjurer. That would be no good. It would be much more difficult, impossible even to remove a full set of horcruxes from a human being. It’s best if you all just waited outside.”

Harry wanted to interject but Nagini beat him to it, “We understand, just be careful.”

Genevieve nodded, “Of course. I promise you both, everything will go just fine. If anything does happen, know that at least I will be alright.”

Harry, still unsure, says, “Promise?”

Genevieve smiled softly, “I promise Harry.”

Harry, defeated, said, “Okay. We’ll be in the other room if you need anything.”

The soft hum of magical energy was still lingering in the air after Genevieve's successful extraction of the Horcruxes. As she prepared for the next phase of the ritual, Harry paced restlessly in the adjoining room, his mind racing with concern. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that leaving Genevieve to perform the ritual alone was a mistake.

Ron, Hermione, and Nagini watched him, understanding his worry. Hermione was the first to speak, her voice gentle yet firm. "Harry, you need to calm down. Genevieve knows what she's doing. She's powerful and experienced in rune magic. She wouldn't proceed if she wasn't confident she could handle it."

Harry stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Hermione, but this is different. Extracting the Horcruxes was one thing, but bringing Tom Riddle back to life? It's dangerous. What if something goes wrong?"

Ron stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Mate, I get it. I do. But Genevieve is smart. She's been planning this for a long time. She wouldn't take unnecessary risks. And besides, we've all seen what she's capable of."

Nagini, her voice calm and soothing, added, "Genevieve is not alone in this. She has our support and the knowledge she's gathered. She knows when to stop if something goes wrong. You have to trust her, Harry."

Harry sighed, the weight of his anxiety pressing down on him. "It's just... we've been through so much already. I can't bear the thought of losing her too. What if Voldemort's soul fragments fight back? What if they hurt her?"

Hermione moved closer, her eyes full of empathy. "I understand, Harry. We all do. But remember, Genevieve is the one who discovered the Horcrux in you. She’s the one who figured out how to extract them. If anyone can handle this, it's her. She’s been preparing for this moment."

Ron nodded in agreement. "And we're right here. If she needs help, we'll be ready. But she needs us to trust her right now."

Harry looked at his friends, seeing the same determination and faith in their eyes that had carried them through countless battles. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "You're right. I need to trust her. I do trust her. It's just hard."

Nagini offered a small, reassuring smile. "It’s natural to worry about those we care for. But worrying won't help her. Believing in her will."

Harry nodded slowly, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. I'll try to stay calm. But if anything goes wrong, we’re going in to help her."

Hermione squeezed his arm gently. "Of course. But for now, let's give her the space she needs to work. We have to have faith in her abilities."

With a final, deep breath, Harry tried to let go of his worry. "Alright. Let's wait here, then. And keep our ears open, just in case." As the group settled into a tense vigil, the door to the library remained closed, a silent testament to the weight of the task Genevieve was undertaking. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern, but also with a thread of hope. They had come so far, and now, more than ever, they needed to trust in the strength and wisdom of their friend.

Inside the library, Genevieve stood over the runic array, her hands steady and her mind focused. She knew the risks, but she also knew the importance of the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, she began to relax, meditating, feeling the ancient magic respond to her. The room was filled with an eerie stillness as Genevieve was ready for the final phase of the ritual.

The Horcruxes, now contained within two ornate necklaces, lay on the table before her. The runic array she had meticulously prepared glowed faintly, the ancient symbols pulsing with latent power. She took a final deep breath, grounding herself in the knowledge and preparation that had led to this moment. It was time to bring Tom Riddle back to life, to mend his fragmented soul, and set the stage for Voldemort's ultimate defeat.

She began by placing the necklaces in the center of the runic array, positioning them precisely according to the intricate pattern she had studied for months. The room seemed to hum with energy, the air thick with anticipation. Genevieve raised her hands, her voice steady as she chanted the first incantation. "Dissipata animae fragmenta redeant ad unitatem." The runes flared to life, casting an otherworldly glow across the library.

With each step, the ritual grew more intense. Genevieve's voice grew stronger, the power of the incantations filling the room. "De tenebris ad lucem, anima vaga, revertere." The necklaces began to vibrate, the fragments of Voldemort's soul responding to the call.

Sweat beaded on Genevieve's forehead as she moved to the next stage, her focus unwavering. "Vincula animae franguntur, libertatem inveniunt." The runic symbols pulsed brighter, the light shifting from a dark, ominous hue to a softer, more radiant glow. The atmosphere in the library began to change. What had been a heavy, oppressive energy transformed into something lighter, more hopeful. Genevieve could feel the dark magic being purified, the fragments of Voldemort's soul being drawn out of their vessels and into the center of the array.

She took a deep breath, knowing the most critical part was at hand. "Animae divisae simul redeant et corpus inveniant." The light intensified, swirling around the necklaces in a brilliant vortex. As she uttered the final incantation, her voice rang with power and determination. "Ab umbris in lucem, tota anima reviviscat." The room was flooded with blinding light, the dark magic fully transformed into pure, radiant energy.

When the light subsided, the runes on the floor dimmed to a gentle glow, their task complete. In the center of the array, where the necklaces had been, layed a figure. Tom Riddle, not the twisted visage of Voldemort, but a young man Genevive once knew, his features unmarked by dark magic. He looked around, disoriented, his eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. Genevieve stepped back, her breath coming in heavy gasps. The ritual had taken a toll on her, but she had succeeded. The vessels were empty, and Tom Riddle was there before her, his soul mended and whole. She couldn’t believe it. He was back.

She reached towards him slowly, and said, “Tom?”

Tom turned around to the voice in front of him. He truthfully couldn’t believe his eyes. The last time she was in front of him, was the day he had lost everything. He didn’t want to believe she was there, she was dead in his arms the last time. There was no possibility that Genevieve was alive.

Tom gulped, tears on the verge of escaping, “Gen?” He said quietly.

Genevieve smiled, tears in her eyes, “Yeah Tom?”

Tom closed his eyes, tears escaping. He thought that this was a dream. “I’m dreaming. You died in my arms. You’re not here. You’re a figment of my imagination.” He said as he was shaking his head.

Genevieve moved to grab his hand. She had to show him that this was, in fact, real. “No, Tommy, I am here. I’m alive. Grab my hand love.”

Tom, filled with confusion but relief, opened his eyes as Genevieve laid her hand over his. Feeling she was real, he moved his other hand to cradle her face. He caressed her cheek, taking it all in that Genevieve was really in front of him. “You’re alive? You’re really here?”

Genevieve moved to caress his cheek, enjoying feeling his warm touch again, “I really am here.”

Tom moved forward, leaning for their foreheads to touch. He let out a sigh that he didn’t realize he was holding on to. For a moment, he just relished the feeling of his lover next to him, not wanting to let go. He furrowed his eyebrows, “But how? You weren’t breathing in my arms… I tried…y-you were so pale…and Dumbledore…he didn’t fucking do anything. That blasted oaf-” Tom stated furiously, body shaking as Genevieve interjected, “I know my love. He did this. He planted this whole plan to separate us and made it seem I died, but I didn’t. He locked me up in hopes for those he wished for to find me and destroy you…but I made them realize who my blasted father was…and now look. You’re back here with me.” Genevieve held Tom’s face in her hands, staring into his eyes.

Tom looked deep into her eyes, and he knew that she was real. Her two different colored eyes radiated with passion and longing just as much as his eyes did. For so long, he had felt lost. Lost without the one person who understood him and loved him, even with his flaws. “I’ve missed you Doll.”

Genevieve smiled, sobs fighting to get out, recalling the last time they were together. For she had wished that their last encounter wasn’t a fight. “I-I’ve missed you too, my love.”

Tom, letting go of his tears, happy that he was finally with Genevieve again, and leaned forward to kiss her. Genevieve reciprocated the kiss, gentle but passionate, filled with an eagerness from the years apart. Simultaneously, a yellow glow had emitted, a symbol of their love radiating from both of their magical cores. Even their cores knew that their two souls had bonded to each other once again, as it had many years ago, in their secret sanctuary.

Genevieve let go to stare back into Tom’s eyes. She said, “Let’s get you into some better robes. I have so much to catch you up on.”

Tom smiled softly and nodded. “Of course my dear.” With that, they moved to stand up to head to the other room.

Outside the library, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Nagini waited anxiously. When the light had poured from under the door, they had held their breath, hoping for the best. Now, as the glow faded, they exchanged nervous glances.

That is when they heard the doorknob turn. The sight that greeted them was almost surreal. Genevieve moved to stand at the center of the room, visibly exhausted but triumphant. And standing next to her was Tom Riddle, hands held together, looking more like the young man he once was than the dark lord he had become.

"Genevieve," Harry said softly, his voice filled with awe and relief. "You did it."

Genevieve turned to him, a tired but satisfied smile on her face. "Yes, it's done.” Hermione and Ron stepped forward, their expressions a mix of amazement and caution. Nagini watched from the doorway, her eyes unreadable.

Tom Riddle, now fully aware of his surroundings, looked at the group before him. He seemed to be grappling with the situation, wondering whom the people around him were. He looked at Genevieve for some help.

“We’ll talk in a few. For right now, I have to catch Tom up on a few things and then we can continue to discuss our next plans. I'll help with dinner shortly,” Genevieve said.

Nagini was the first to speak, “Take your time. I know you both have so much to discuss. We can handle dinner.”

Hermione nodded, “Of course, don’t worry about that Genevieve. You’ve already done so much. We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Harry and Ron both nodded.

“Yeah, you should also get some rest. I think we can wait another day before anything,” Harry said with a beaming smile.

Genevieve bowed her head slightly in gratitude, “Thank you all. We’ll be down shortly.” With that, they left to head to the kitchen as Genevieve led Tom up to her room up the stairs. The weight of their mission still heavy but now imbued with a renewed sense of hope, they knew that the end was in sight. They had taken a crucial step towards victory and it was only a matter of time that the end of darkness would be near.

Taglist: @wheenerrr @jillian2003 @secretkittydreamland

Tom Riddle Masterlist

#harry potter #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader

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commsroom · 2 years ago

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a pretty major aspect of wolf 359's worldbuilding that i think about sometimes is that goddard futuristics is the megacorporation, like. jacobi says, "goddard's done some good stuff", citing the development of solar energy and investments in water purification, eco-friendly fertilizers, global internet access, etc. and... i mean, yes. obviously, objectively, all good things that i wish we also had. but also all goddard-owned and beholden to their interests. that line is in response to eiffel saying "yeah, i'm sure the team retreats where you got to burn down the rainforest were amazing" - like, it's about efficiency, not environmentalism; the good parts are a byproduct.

the same thing applies to the inaccessibility of goddard's other developments - AI development is so under wraps that even maxwell, working for the "best" AI research lab in the country, was unaware of the existence of "full-minded" AI until she was recruited by goddard. and part of why she was recruited was her disagreement with the board for ethical AI development. goddard has made some incredible advancements in the field of biotech, but like... do you think those things are accessible to the average person? these life-saving medical developments and disability aids exist, but who actually gets them? cutter is financially blackmailing eiffel by paying for anne's medical bills, education, etc. - his control over all of these things gives him potential leverage over just about anyone.

and then you have just, like, the fact that goddard is involved in so many things - space exploration, air travel, utilities, the military, medicine, agriculture, probably just everyday goods... it's bad enough in real life if you're trying to avoid a few major corporations; there are going to be so many things in their day-to-day lives that they never even realized were goddard-made until they get back to earth and start seeing it everywhere. and goddard futuristics started out as the wright-goddard aeronautics company; the wright brothers are already in like, every textbook ever - imagine how that's taught in a world where so many major developments are consolidated under this one narrative? gabriel urbina made an off-hand comment once about how, yes, NASA exists in the world of wolf 359, but you have to wonder who has better funding - the US government, or goddard futuristics?

#wolf 359 #w359 #i also think about how. lovelace is from a career military family and her dad is a district judge #she's been burnt by goddard but she probably. still has faith in other systems #and if she thinks that the legal system can hold goddard to account...#there are some other things. she might need to reckon with. that's all #also i've said before that disney's tomorrowland is goddard propaganda in that world. that's not even a joke. it for sure is #idk it's that thing about cyberpunk like. the point is to highlight extreme class inequality.#a hypercapitalist future where all this cool stuff exists and you as the average worker get access to none of it.

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opal-owl-flight · 1 year ago

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Aaand heres the complete visual guide for the Candlefolk variants!!

More abt them under the cut!

Candlefolk across the realms

A candlefolk’s appearance tends to change depending on the realm they were born from, as the ruins in each realm have materials and environments unique to their location. Whats shown are the common shapes, but Candlefolk can take on appearances different from what is presented (or look completely different from the appearance they took when they were born).

Isle: usually the same shade of bluish stone as the rocks found in the realm, or brown, like clay. Highly spiritual. Very serious about their purification duties.

Prairie: mossy folk with Manta features. Soft shape. Round. Many are born from large pots gaining sentience, though some are born from bells. Very in-tune with light creatures, and also plant life! Voices are like the tolling bells across the prairies.

Forest: Made from dark colored stone, metal, or fossilized wood (seems to be a light color, from what I can see in-game). Immune to rain (flame burns as strongly as a forge). Megatuna/whale features (like the one seen in the forest). Usually shy. Prefers the company of the forest/creatures rather than other sapients. Living forges that hide under their turtle-like shells to raise their temperatures high enough to melt all sorts of metals. Paddle-like feet to easily and quickly traverse and navigate the flooded woodland, and hammer out superheated metals. Surprisingly poetic...

Valley: Made of the russet stones, gold, stained glass, what have you. Have a more “carpe diem” lifestyle, compared to isle-borns. Have Racer manta features — long tail, helps steer. Quadwinged. They also have a fine mesh of "downy feathers" made of metal that help insulate them against the cold that would make their bodies too stiff to move. Movement makes these "feathers" clink and chime! It aids in their frequent dancing and performing...

Wasteland: made of the darkest stone or metal (helps blend in). Their fire burns lowly, but that grants them near- immunity from the dark creatures. Always on high alert towards the creatures that hunt them, helping other pilgrims find their way. Have dark creature features (horns, ridge, long tail); which usually helps them fight. Additionally, they tend to have long snouts like the krill to help them breathe the wasteland air.

Vault: made of that dark blue stone. Quiet and reserved, deep in study about the kingdom’s past. Have spirit manta features, made of decrepit memory cubes or the deep blue stones of the Vault. Tend to wear robes that cover most of their body.

Eden: the rarest kind, once upon a time. Only emerging when the other realms have been mostly healed and when new peoples returned to settle on them, establishing a new kingdom. Jointed limbs and features, like a mannequin, allow them to swap parts out easily and shake off most injuries (as the rock rain still happens occassionally.) Appearances vary wildly beyond that.

#opal owl’s nest #oc #original character #sky children of the light #sky cotl #that sky game #sky: children of the light #sky: cotl #character design

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sillybayo · 5 months ago

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Snapping the Strings

(Originally uploaded on AO3 on 10/25/22. You can also read this on fanfiction.net)

A queerplatonic post-skyward sword zelink fic with hurt/comfort. Warning for internalized arophobia. Zelda thinks about the fact that she's an reincarnation of Hylia, and the more she does, the more she questions the way she truly feels about a certain someone...

~~~

Outside of her house, underneath the sky filled with stars, Zelda was pacing back and forth. She spent the whole night up until this point laying down and staring at her wall. She's been tossing and turning at a constant rate, never managing to get comfortable enough to drift off for the night. Something has been bothering her for weeks, and she just can't rest. So at last, trying not to make a sound, she got out of bed. While leaving on her long and white nightgown, she stepped barefoot into the soft grass to think.

It hasn't been too long since Link decided to stay on the surface with her, and although she loves his company and as always dreamed about living here, something feels…off, in a way. Like something..or someone, is pulling the strings. Like as if those strings were to snap, she wouldn't be so sure if Link would love her so much as he did.

She doesn't even know if she herself would love him so.

She wished she could forget all the time she spent purifying herself, learning more and more about being Hylia's reincarnation, and what her true duty was. If only she could go back to being a joyful girl in the clouds, who boys and girls would fawn over. She wanted to keep playing those soothing melodies on her harp, dancing with all her friends and talking until the sun went down.

She wished she could look into Link's eyes again with nothing but sureness and love.

But it can never be that simple, now can it?

She will never see her old friends again. They all stayed above the clouds, enjoying their usual peaceful life, while she moved below, having to build a whole kingdom of her own. It's a good thing she isn't alone, but…

Did Hylia really need a chosen hero that badly? So badly that she had to manipulate Link to be so close with her, so close that he'd do anything to save Zelda? To protect the triforce? Throwing himself, a young boy who was still in knight school no less, into a fight just to shield her, as if his blood wouldn't get spilled and stained on the battlefield?

The difference between her and Hylia felt scarce, to the point that it scared her. Does Zelda see Link as her childhood friend, or as a pawn? As nothing more than the "chosen one"?

Does she even care about anyone at all?!

Goddesses can be so cruel.

So so cruel.

Zelda felt her eyes water, and held her stomach, trying to suppress the sick feeling she had. Link shouldn't have gone through this at all, neither of them should've!

The burden of being a reborn goddess, of building a new home, and of all of your descendants having to deal with the same pain over and over and over again. Carrying all of that on her felt like a boulder being thrown carelessly on a small bird, who only wished to sing.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping down and lightly damping her dress. At least that helps with figuring out one thing, Zelda does care. She cares about her friends, and Link, surely she loves him too, right? Otherwise, she would've still been in bed, held under Link's warm and soft weight with no uncertainty whatsoever.

But what is that love she feels for him?

She let out a quiet shudder, and it hit her just how cold and windy it was out there. Seeing no point in needing fresh air any longer, she wiped her tears and went back inside.

A subdued sunlight peeked through the cloudy sky, and rain was falling to the ground. Zelda was sitting at a little table beside a window, looking out of it with curiosity, not being quite used to this new world of hers. Sometimes when she was visiting the fountains for purification, it drizzled. But she has never seen rainfall like this before.

Along with the pitter patter of the rain, the noise of a crackling fire below a kettle filled the kitchen. Link decided to prepare tea for the both of them, along with some eggs and bread. How sweet of him.

The boy in comfy green pajamas pulled out a small glass jar from a cabinet, filled with tea bags. "Would you like the usual?" He asked.

Of course he would remember her favorite, honey lemon tea. Zelda nodded and watched him put two bags into cups, and then place them and plates of food on the table she was sitting at.

"Did you sleep well last night?" The knight smiled.

Hesitating for a moment, she once again nodded as politely as she could. Link thought it was strange, Zelda is normally very lively in the mornings. She talks about her vivid and amazing dreams from the night before, she hums melodies that always put him at ease. But today, there was none of it.

The kettle abruptly whistled, and Link rushed to turn the pot hanger away from the fireplace. He picked up the kettle and poured the near boiling water into each of their teacups.

"..Is there something wrong?" He asked softly.

She should've known that he would notice her behavior eventually. "Nothing in particular.."

"There's no need for you to lie, you know." He put the kettle back on the hanger, then walked back to her, kneeling on his knee so he could get a better look at her face.

"You aren't usually this quiet, is it…" He dragged out his words.."My hair? I look like a newborn cucco right now, don't I?"

Zelda let out a giggle against her will, he always managed to make her laugh somehow. "N-no, it's not that. Though you should definitely get it brushed soon." She teased.

"Then what is it? Like I said, you don't have to lie to me. I'm here for you, always."

He placed his hand on hers, which was gripping the hem of her dress. Zelda let her fist unravel under Link's scarred yet soft hand, and she relaxed, letting go of all past tensions she was holding. But when she stared at their hands together like this, something about it didn't feel right. Like her love behind it wasn't real.

"You're starting to tear up." Link frowned as he observed her. He reached his other hand up to cup her cheek and wipe any potential tears off her face, but as soon as he did, she took it off in reply.

Zelda's voice started to waver. "Please, don't."

Link gave her a concerned look, but allowed her to continue.

"...Do you..love me, Link?"

"Of course I do!" He assured. "What would ever make you think otherwise?"

Naturally he would say that, Zelda damned herself for asking. "Sorry, that was a silly question. It's just.."

Link listened in anticipation, still holding onto her hand with his.

"..Hylia, I already told you all about her, did I not?"

That name always brought a shiver down his spine. "Yes, you did. Is there something new?"

"Somewhat, it's more like something that I've started thinking about more.." Zelda finally looked into Link's eyes, and they were filled to the brim with worry. She hated seeing that look on his face more than anything.

She wished she could go back and never mention this at all.

She wished she could sit there in silence forever, never letting him know about her possible true feelings.

But he doesn't deserve that, not at all. He needs to know.

Zelda's words slowly escaped her lips, in a shaky tone as if she were holding back a flood, and if she were to slip up, she would erupt.

"I'm...I'm not sure if I love love you..it's quite difficult to explain it all exactly, but it feels like she's in control of it all. Like, if I wasn't her reincarnation, I wouldn't supposedly love you as much. I'm terribly sorry…"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Once again, only the sound of downpour and cackling fire could be heard. But words weren't needed at the moment. Link still clung onto her hand, hard, as if he were to let go, the world would tear them apart. He eyed her with a softened look, the one where he would rise and hug her tight and never ever let go. But she needed her space right now, as she already politely elaborated. So, instead, he decided to listen more.

"How do you feel, then?"

She paused, choosing her words carefully. Then, she spoke again. "I feel like..I do love you. I really do, how could I not? It's..just not in the way people expect or want."

"How so?"

"I don't want to just be friends, but I can't bring myself to love you..romantically."

Something clicked in her mind.

"Yes, that's what I mean. I want to be something in-between, something that can't be put into simple words. I want to be yours so badly, but I can't love love you."

Another short moment of silence in between them, and Zelda agonized every second of it. She knew Link wouldn't get mad at her, she kept telling herself that. But something in her mind told her that this was the wrong choice. That she must love him. That everything would fall apart if she didn't, because that's how things in this world are supposed to be.

"What would that kind of relationship be like to you?" Link innocently asked. "Can I still kiss you? Cuddle you? Tell you how much I love you? I just want to know before I make you upset.."

Oh bless his heart. "Of course you can, my love." She smiled softly, yet still holding back a river of tears. "I'm just not sure if I could reciprocate the exact same feelings to you, I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize! This isn't something you can control, right?"

Zelda was taken aback by his sudden interruption. She shook her head, no, she can't control how she felt about him. She would love him romantically just to make things easier if she could.

"Then please, don't beat yourself up over this. I'll be there for you no matter what..and I'm so glad you brought yourself to tell me about this."

He squeezed her hand harder, and that's when Zelda couldn't take it anymore.

She carefully slipped off of the chair, took her hand out of Link's grip, and then she scooped her arms under his, holding him close so there would be no space left between them.

She clutched onto his soft shirt, rested her head on the crook of his neck, and she let it all out. The flood that she was holding back simply so she could speak was being finally released, and all that came out of her now were loud sobs.

Curse the goddess that forced her to feel emotions that weren't there, this is far much better.

Link returned the hug, tracing huge, loving, circles on her back. He whispered polite and assuring words, hoping that she could hear them, and know that he'll never give up on her. He wished that Hylia never even dared to place such a burden on them. But if it results in something like this, then it makes it a little better.

They couldn't just continue their day normally after that. Link told the citizens that they needed a break for the day, and once that was said and done, he took Zelda to the small personal library in their house.

"What are you looking for?" She asked as she watched him search around the room.

"Do you remember that little memory book they gave us? I think I put it here somewhere…" Link looked carefully along the shelf.

The memory book was something always available for contribution in Skyloft. It was a good mix of historical events and happy memories. When Link and Zelda were preparing to leave to the surface, it was given to them as a parting gift, so if they ever felt homesick, they could always look through it.

"Aha, here it is!" Link then beamed as he took out a thick and heavy journal, with pieces of paper sticking out of some pages.

He flipped through the old homemade book, quickly scanning each page until he paused, and tilted the book slightly so Zelda could look at it. "I think you'd like this."

She gently took the book out of his hands, and started to read. Some of the words were smudged with ink, and pages were wrinkled and ripped at the edges, but what she read was a delight nonetheless.

"My friend and I finally got married last weekend! They said we were foolish, that things like this were only reserved for true lovers. But we are lovers! But not the kind where romance is present, the kind where you feel something else. Something strong, stronger than friends without the romance that's most ideal. They don't get it, but that's what we are, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

"When you confessed to me like that..it reminded me of this. And I thought that maybe, you would feel less alone if I showed you something similar to your thoughts." He smiled shyly. "I hope it helps."

"Oh, Link.." Her hot tears started to damp the page. "Of course it helps! I-I'm not sure what to say.."

"We can keep the book in our room if you'd like! So if you ever need a reminder, you'll have it right there."

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I'd like that very much!" She closed the journal, but then looked at the cover. It had 'Skyloft History' stitched on the front. That gave her an idea.

"There's a good chunk of empty pages in here," She observed. "Why not continue this book with our memories here on the surface?"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Link's eyes twinkled. "Ooo, can we put little drawings in it too? I always thought the book needed some more detail!"

"Of course we can!"

And that's how they spent the rest of their time on the surface. Link and Zelda explored different ways to define and shape their relationship, while also building their new kingdom that grew bigger by the week, and soon became Hyrule.

At the end of each day, the two sat in bed and recorded new details about their lives in the old journal. Like how they saw a cucco that strangely looked exactly like Groose, and how Link playfully shoved Zelda into a pond. Sometimes they glanced over old pages to feel the sense of home again. But they knew they couldn't stay up doing this for too long, there's always morning. But Zelda wrote down one last thing before drifting off again…

"Maybe not fitting into the traditional loving relationship isn't so bad after all. I've never felt any more certain in my life. I care about Link more than anyone else, however I cannot properly define that care. I hope we find something out in the future, but for now, 'in between' works just fine."

And with that, the strings were snapped.

#fanfic #fanfiction #tloz #loz #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #zelink #tloz fanfic #skyward sword

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