Remember, 700.
As for the one for last week, since I regularly post Sunday to Wednesday. I'll post one on Thursday too.
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Sipping my black tea, I debated whether or not it was a good idea to share my findings about the train we were on with my Professor. Judging by how he was solely concerned with my presence, I sincerely doubted he realized his own situation.
I wasn't much surprised by this, in all honesty.
My Professor did, after all, have a penchant for landing himself in the middle of nonsensical and extreme situations just by taking a walk or a long drive. Perhaps, even more than I did.
For one, this train barreling through plains painted a puffy white by knee-high snow in the Netherlands was the domain of a Dead Apostle. It was also barreling right for the main body of another Dead Apostle, long having passed into the latter's domain. Then, there was the ritual that occurred last night by capitalizing on the irregularity produced by the clash of these ancient mysteries meant to connect to, then deceive, an entirely different magical system hundreds upon hundreds of miles away through the leylines.
Very convoluted, if I did say so myself. There was definitely a mastermind here. And, I'd been too late to see it in action so all I had was the barebones structure for it and nothing else but even then I doubted I'd be able to know any more than the function of the ritual itself. Of course, I also knew what came after. It was just the sort of thing that'd get me all jittery and raring to go-
In any case, my Professor had indeed gotten caught up in another absolute shitstorm.
Chuckling, I watched the auctioneer swirling about the car excitedly. A tall, thin model-like woman with her blonde hair cut short and styled to one side. The other side was shaved. And, even though the Rail Zeppelin's heating system made the cold outside largely unnoticeable, she wore a thick beige fur coat striped with yellow.
I barely restrained a cackle when I noticed there was a strap of red leather fastened around her eyes.
The strange woman swerved from side to side, her gaze lingering on me for a second before she pointed to the centre of the car with a gloved hand. A liquid-filled transparent canister rose from the table. Literal eyeballs floated inside.
"There we have the Mystic Eyes of Flame! The Rank is Gold. Capable of setting aflame anything caught within them-"
"Yes, because pouring gasoline on something and lighting it on fire is so hard." I rested my chin atop my palm. "People really do just be glazing anything these days."
She tilted her head confusedly. Then, she cleared her throat before speaking again, "You are Henry Smith, is that correct? As someone who has come to sell their eyes, I request you refrain from intervening with the rest of the auction."
"It's insane how you say 'come' when you tried to kidnap my little sister."
The Professor turned my way with wide eyes.
"I assure you it was merely a precaution meant to assure your presence! The young lady would have been treated like the finest of guests. Yet, we did fail, and you came regardless. So, let us say it is water under the bridge."
"Yeah, okay, sure."
Hell no, it wasn't.
"But, it was definitely you guys, right?"
She merely nodded before returning to her presentation. The rest of the guests listened keenly. Waver, on the other hand, leaned closer to me.
"Henry, no."
"Don't worry, Professor. I won't do anything. Still need to find out who told them about my eyes." I whispered back, waving my hand with a 'soft' smile, "And, I'm also interested in that ritu-"
"What ritual?"
I averted my gaze. Suddenly, the bit of snow gently floating to the ground outside became the most interesting phenomenon in the world to observe. I was moved to the point I even started whistling.
"Henry. What ritual?"
"Boo, don't be a buzzkill, Professor. Caules, how did you work up the courage to come out here? I thought you'd be stuck to your screen like usual."
My fellow student scratched the back of his head. "Well, even I think it's good to step outside every once in a while and… I was interested in the Rail Zeppelin itself."
"I see. I see. Good for you."
"Aren't you going to ask me? How cold. How crude. You'd make for a terrible husband ~ Unless the girl was into it! Fortunately for you, I am. Come on~ Come on~ Hal You know you want to touch~"
I answered Yvette without turning her way, "There's nothing to touch in the first place."
"Gaha!"
She fell on the table in a needlessly loud way and started crying crocodile tears. When she noticed no one cared, Yvette started flailing her arms around in some kind of childish tantrum. When even that didn't work, she just deflated.
"Boooo! It's no fun if you get desensitized! Fun police! Am I right, Gray?" She elbowed the poor girl in her ribs.
"Well um… yes. I think so. But, there should be a time and place-"
"Excuse me!" The El-Melloi Classroom's usual antics were interrupted by… some weirdly familiar looking twelve year old brat. She slammed her hands on the dining table and fixed me with a glare. "This isn't your home! Stop behaving like children! I thought you were supposed to be distingu-"
Caules immediately started apologizing like a little bi-
"I'd argue someone who can't let other people have fun without taking issue is the one 'behaving like a child'." I raised a finger, stroking my non-existent beard as I channeled the wisdom of Krishna. "Didn't your parents teach you better than to butt in on others when they're talking?"
"You will not talk to me this way!"
"Woah. How adult. Throwing a tantrum when you don't like how someone speaks."
Yes. I was beefing with the twelve year old.
Her pale skin flushed. I honestly thought she was about to either faint or explode. She raised a clenched fist, and opened her mouth to say something but her attendant stopped her by whispering something in her ear. Apparently, whatever she said gave the brat enough confidence to lower her fist and face me with a confident smile. It wasn't a very good smile.
"You. I recognize you. You're just as childish as I've heard."
"Funny you choose to use the word 'childish' while looking like someone R.Kelly would like."
Confusion flashed through her eyes.
"I-I thought someone as accomplished and talented would be better than this-"
I cut her off, "You gonna cry?"
"I…I'm not-"
She was about to cry.
I decided to back off.
She still decided to run away. Her attendant gave me a sharp stare before following after her young lady. Watching them disappear into another car, I couldn't help but think that girl looked awfully familiar. I'd definitely seen her likeness before.
"You know, she looks kind of familiar…"
Waver sighed, "That was the heir of the Animusphere family. Olga Marie Asmleit Animusphere. Her father is one of the Twelve Lords."
"Ah, Marisbury Animusphere, no wonder."
That was the guy who derailed all of Inorai's plans by sharing them with me. He seemed like a good enough person. His daughter was… not the same. She seemed the typical rich brat. Unfortunately for her, I was also the typical brat.
"That woman with her was Trisha Fellows."
"Tall blonde teacher type?"
My Professor looked unamused. "Yes. Her. We've confirmed she possesses some kind of powerful Mystic Eyes too so be careful. I'll take a look around for…"
With that, he left, suddenly lost in his own thoughts. Caules stumbled off after him but, to my surprise, Gray did not. She sat beside me quietly, sneaking glances every now and then until even Yvette got bored and floated away.
When I stood up, my adopted introvert stood up with me.
"Um, Gray. What are we thinking?"
She just stared at me for a good few moments.
"The Professor told me to be… more proactive? I think… I can trust you." She became embarrassed as soon as she finished, hastily pulling down her hood. Then, she asked a strange question, "Henry, what do you think of this face?"
As non-serious as I was, even I could tell I wasn't supposed to answer that question with a poor joke. So, I hummed and began walking. She followed along, curious and… afraid?
Honestly, at some point, I'd probably think it was incredibly cute. No, I still believed that. It was a factual statement aside from personal feelings. Yet, if I were to honestly answer her question, the answer that came rushing to my lips wasn't one even I'd expect from myself.
"Nothing in particular?" I shrugged. "I mean, I don't really care? Do you want me to compliment you…? I'm sorry, I can't do that in earnest."
At that, my fellow student stopped to stare out of the window, at the snow-capped hills rapidly passing us by. She showed a rare glimpse of a smile before removing her hood entirely to reveal her ashen hair.
I traced my steps back, and stood beside.
"So you don't care?"
I shook my head.
"I see. You think nothing of it."
Was she pissed? No, she looked happy.
"Henry, I don't like my face either. I think nothing of it. Less, even." She whispered.
This time, it was my turn to be confused. I distinctly recalled her telling me about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her family back at the Iselma Towers. Yet, I hadn't thought it meant she hated herself for it. No, that definitely wasn't the case.
"You must be confused." She noticed, turning to face me with big green eyes. Her cloak fluttered. "This isn't my face… I woke up with it one day. When everyone saw it, they became happy and overjoyed. Because it's the face of the King my family wanted to bring back. They became happy that… my face was gone."
I had no words for that. I knew any reassurance I could possibly give was unnecessary, that it would come off as mere words from someone who didn't understand anything. That was always how it was with pain you couldn't relate to.
I knew it was best to keep your mouth shut.
It was what I wished some people had done for me, as William.
"And, every day, when I wake up, I remember my face less… I start to think, that maybe it was this way from the start."
I listened as the girl spoke, slowly, her words were barely a whisper. Her eyes were wet. Clearly, she had not expected to say this much. But it was like that sometimes. Sometimes you couldn't shut up about your pain once you started talking.
"I hate it… I'm afraid that one day, it won't be me at all when I wake up… and that everyone will be glad for that. Everyone will be glad that I'm gone… Gray will never have mattered. That they might say, I was never there. I don't want that-"
I put a hand on her head.
"Well, Gray. I'm pretty sure it's 'Gray' and not that King that decided to sit with me when no one else wanted to in class, and it's Gray that tries to make sure all of us get along, or that the Professor doesn't get himself killed. That King may have never even looked at me, or us."
She tilted her head, confused.
"You're not weak enough for some long-dead bum King to take over you."
"It was King-"
"Whoever it was, they died. That means they're a bum, because you only die if you've got skill issue."
She stared at me in silence, then, "W-What does that even-"
"And! Even if that King does come, I'll beat her till you come back, promise. To hell with meeting some ancient hero if it means my adopted introvert needs to die. On top of that, I promise you, if anyone IS glad, I'll knock their teeth out myself. So yeah, Gray does matter, she should always be there. I'm pretty sure the professor would have died like thrice if you weren't there."
I hoped that was enough.
"That's God's honest truth."
It was the truth. My sincere feelings on her turmoil and nothing else.
That was really all an inconsiderate person like myself could provide.
"So yeah, scream at the King to know his damn place. Then dropkick 'em to oblivion. I'll help you."
Gray trembled. I thought she'd cry. But she just started giggling instead, eyes still wet.
"Wait, come on! Don't laugh at a guy's earnest feelings!"
"B…But it's so silly!"
"Yeah, okay, don't you ever come to me for consolation ever again! Hmph Hmph!"
It was embarrassing, and she laughed at me. I stomped away, totally not ashamed.
"W-Wait, Henry! I'm sorry! I said I'm sorry!"
In my attempt to run away from the ungrateful girl, I ran face-first into someone I instantly realized was an Executor from the Holy Church. The old man fixed me with a curious gaze, then held out a hand,
"You are… Henry Smith, right?"
-
Hope you enjoyed.
You can find 8 chapters ahead at patre0n.com/Bleap