Accompanied by the melodious chime of the wind bells, what followed was a voice laced with three parts surprise, three parts curiosity, three parts confusion, and one part fear.
"Locke?"
Appearing at the entrance was Zoe Benson, a witch of the new generation.
And also... Emma... no, Madison Montgomery, who had seemingly been successfully resurrected last night.
However, much like Emma, Madison Montgomery was publicly a Hollywood actress.
Zoe and Nan had located the deceased Madison lying up in the attic yesterday. They had immediately rushed to find Misty, who excelled at the art of resurrection.
Not long ago, Madison revived. Her very first words upon awakening were a demand for a smoke, followed by a decent meal.
Thus, the trio of Zoe, Nan, and Madison had arrived at this restaurant. Zoe had perceived a highly familiar scent, and tracking that scent with her gaze, she instantly spotted Locke—clad in a suit as always—sharing a meal with three girls.
This was the exact same Locke Broughton who had informed her of Madison's hidden location, and who seemed to share a somewhat ambiguous relationship with their Headmistress, Cordelia.
Locke had noted the trio entering the doorway as well, but the next second, his gaze dropped right onto the back of Gwen's hand.
Those transparent downy hairs were bristling once more.
He felt that Gwen had seemingly experienced a subconscious startle just now. Does Gwen happen to recognize Zoe? Locke thought as much in his heart.
The precise moment a voice called out Locke's name, Gwen instantly snapped her head up to look over. Her gaze lingered briefly across Zoe's frame, before landing directly onto the newly resurrected Madison.
"Montgomery?"
"The Hollywood actress who reportedly left to attend school?"
As stated previously, Madison was a Hollywood actress, and a moderately famous one at that—even Dee seemed to recognize her.
Gwen knew of Madison.
Locke's thoughts spun rapidly as he rose to his feet, delivering a smooth smile as he shared a brief embrace with the curiously approaching Zoe. "Hello, we meet again."
Zoe offered a soft word of thanks to Locke.
Following her resurrection, Madison had listened to Zoe narrate exactly how she had been found. Watching Locke release the embrace with Zoe, she extended her hand with a sharp smile.
"Montgomery. Madison Montgomery!"
"Broughton. Locke Broughton."
Locke shared a handshake with the newly resurrected Madison. Perceiving Gwen rising to her feet beside him with a highly questioning gaze, he smiled smoothly, introducing Zoe to Gwen.
"Zoe Benson, a student from Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. I met her yesterday while looking for a friend."
Gwen cast a highly astonished glance toward Locke.
If she recalled correctly, Locke had previously stated that he possessed very few friends even back in Texas. How on earth did he manage to have friends here in New Orleans, a location he had never even visited before?
And also... that sensation from just now?
With those thoughts running through her mind, Gwen smiled smoothly, sharing a handshake with Zoe. "Gwen Stacy, Locke's girlfriend. Nice to meet you."
Zoe shook hands with Gwen. Listening to the self-introduction, she cast a brief glance at Locke, feeling equally astonished in her heart.
If this beautiful woman before her eyes was his girlfriend, then who exactly was Cordelia to him?
Zoe recalled the visual she had witnessed last night: Locke stepping directly out of Cordelia's bedroom, while Cordelia remained inside the room seemingly adjusting the straps of her nightgown.
Wait. A scumbag?
Zoe blanked slightly, a modern term used to describe a man stepping into two boats simultaneously surfacing within her mind.
Locke raised an eyebrow, catching Zoe's subtle glance.
A brief moment later.
The original dining party of four individuals expanded directly into a gathering of seven.
Although the manner of their meeting was somewhat abrupt, for women, as long as the topic didn't involve their own boyfriend, a mere few minutes sufficed to establish a highly familiar rapport. Women across every nation operated on this exact principle, and this instance was no exception.
Particularly given that among these seven individuals, one happened to be a recognized—albeit not a top-tier—Hollywood actress.
Gwen looked at the black gowns the trio wore with a hint of genuine curiosity, focusing on Madison.
"Madison, so you truly departed Hollywood to attend school here in New Orleans? But, Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies... how is it that I've never heard of it before?"
"Of course you haven't," Madison noted with a smooth smile toward Gwen. "Because Miss Robichaux's Academy operates strictly on an invitation-only basis, not an examination system."
Gwen nodded her head. "An elite private institution?"
Such universities were common across the States. For instance, a ranch college that only admitted ten students a year, where students spent their time herding cattle, riding horses, and milking cows.
If placed in the other Nations, such an unconventional institution would likely be thoroughly torn apart by furious parents. But over here, a somewhat obscure college like that, when discussed overseas, would easily transform into a prominent symbol of an aristocratic private university.
"No."
"Huh?"
Madison blinked her eyes toward Gwen. "Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies is the sole witch academy in the United States."
Gwen blinked. Was this some sort of joke?
Locke let out a soft chuckle beside them, looking toward Madison, who was currently drinking something from a bottle that appeared perfectly transparent like common mineral water. "How are you feeling?"
He hadn't initially intended to meddle in the business of Madison's resurrection. However, who could help the fact that she looked exactly like Emma.
Madison looked toward Locke, seemingly catching the distinct nature of the water within his cup, letting out a laugh.
"If you pour me a glass, I'll tell you."
Locke smiled smoothly, handing over the vodka that he had specifically poured into a mineral water bottle to bring along to this public venue.
"Vodka!"
"Just to my liking."
Madison poured the vodka from the bottle into her glass, subsequently raising it as she looked toward Locke with a sharp smile.
"Cheers, and thank you."
Locke looked at the liquor within his own glass, raising it to click against hers. "A minor effort."
"If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be wandering within Hell itself. Right now, I feel like every breath I take carries a heavy scent of molten magma."
"Only after experiencing death does one truly comprehend the absolute value of life."
"True enough. Cheers!"
"Cheers."
Locke took a massive gulp of the vodka. "So, do you still recall exactly how you departed for Hell?"
Madison shook her head. "Blood. An immense amount of blood, screaming, and a curse!"
Locke nodded. "Desire to know the truth?"
Madison looked toward Locke, her expression exceptionally exquisite and beautiful. "Will you tell me?"
Locke set his glass down, crossing his arms as he observed the three newly joined witches, simultaneously perceiving the furrowed brow of Gwen beside him, who remained entirely silent.
He smiled smoothly. "Fiona."
"What?"
"Fiona..."
"It was her?"
Zoe and Nan blanked slightly. Listening to the name uttered by Locke, they found it somewhat difficult to believe.
"Why?" Zoe shook her head, snapping back to reality as she looked toward Locke, asking with a hint of confusion, "Why on earth would Fiona execute such an action?"
Locke shrugged smoothly, casting a glance toward Madison.
"Fiona happens to be the reigning Supreme Witch. The precise moment a Supreme Witch of the new generation is selected, her absolute authority and immense energy will be thoroughly stripped away. Do you honestly believe Fiona would sit idly by and permit such an event to transpire?"
"But she teaches—"
"If she didn't return, how could she possibly determine which among you is destined to become the next Supreme?"
"..."
Locke looked toward Madison, noting with a smooth smile, "Therefore, if you choose to return right now, care to guess whether Fiona will simply dispatch you straight back to Hell once more?"
Madison fell completely silent.
Zoe and Nan traded a look of mutual concern.
Carrie's expression remained as thoroughly cold and distant toward outsiders as always.
As for Dee, she felt as though she had somehow blundered straight into the interior of a bizarre cult.
Gwen... although Gwen hadn't uttered a single syllable, she was undoubtedly listening to the dialogue with absolute focus. However, the more she listened, the greater the suspicion within her heart bloomed.
Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies?
A witch academy?
A Supreme Witch?
Hell?
Resurrection?
WTF?
Right at that moment, Zoe's phone rang.
A brief moment later, Zoe terminated the call, looking toward Nan and Madison before speaking to Locke, "Cordelia wants us to head back."
Locke raised his glass. "You can openly communicate this affair to Cordelia. She genuinely cares for you all, entirely unlike Fiona."
Zoe furrowed her brows.
"Right."
"What?"
"Have you devised an explanation for when Fiona inquires where you all departed to last night instead of remaining in the dormitory?"
"We..."
"I've already formulated an option for you."
"Huh?"
Locke smiled smoothly, pointing toward the visibly confused Dee beside them, who was currently exhibiting signs of wanting to retreat. He looked toward Zoe. "A ready-made justification."
Dee blinked her eyes. Zoe and Madison looked toward Dee, thoroughly failing to comprehend.
Nan, who had just closed her eyes, snapped them open, stating, "She is on the absolute verge of awakening."
Nan was a witch as well, naturally possessing her own specialized trait upon awakening. She knew what others desired and thought, and even carried a certain degree of precognitive ability—she was a witch of the prophetic specialization.
A brief moment later, Zoe, Madison, and the others exchanged phone numbers and contact details, subsequently departing the restaurant alongside a thoroughly bewildered Dee.
Very swiftly, Locke settled the bill, leading Carrie and Gwen back to the interior of the hotel.
*Thud.*
The bedroom sheets had already been completely replaced with a fresh set.
Locke threw himself straight onto the mattress, rolling over onto his back. "So exhausted."
It clearly wasn't his personal business, yet for the sake of the mission parameters, he was executing his absolute best efforts.
After all, the settlement evaluation for the mission required the witches to possess a thoroughly favorable environment for growth, making a Supreme Witch capable of hoisting the banner and shielding them from wind and rain an absolute necessity.
Locke had brought Cordelia into play. But while external factors were managed, internal unstable elements required a degree of resolution as well—such as Fiona, who was profoundly unwilling to exit the stage.
Frankly speaking, selecting Fiona would have been the easiest move on the board, but Fiona had demonstrated through her actions that she merely desired the title of Supreme Witch for her personal benefit, lacking any semblance of a broader perspective. Her power might be immense, but she could never function as a true guardian.
Furthermore, when young and beautiful options existed, why on earth must he select an ancient relic? Locke wasn't lecherous, but he certainly knew how to appreciate beauty.
Right at that moment.
With a soft sound, Gwen kicked her shoes off, secured the bedroom door, and sat directly atop Locke's frame. Lowering her head, her large ponytail brushed lightly against Locke's forehead.
Locke stared up at Gwen, who was pinning him down and looking at him with absolute intensity. A slight smile broke across his face. "What's wrong?"
Gwen's expression was thoroughly solemn and incredibly serious. "You need to deliver an honest confession right now, Locke Broughton!"
Locke: "..."
***
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