Ding, it's time for the weekly update!

Midterms happened, so I was able to get some work done on the update this weekend, but not near enough to post. The good news is that I'm on Spring break now, and being a recluse, I expect to have the update finished by or before next Sunday.

I'm marking this post as an update because I have two important questions for my readers:

Do you want finished updates to be posted on Sundays, or as soon as they're finished?

[ ] I am a creature of habit. Post them on Sunday!
[ ] I am impatient. Post them as soon as they're done!

Should future Sunday reports be saged, marked as updates, or just a normal post?

[ ] Marked as update.
[ ] Saged.
[ ] Posted normally.

Despite having only had furniture shifted, and subtracted in some cases, Remilia felt that the former guest room served just fine as a place to settle accounts, though these weren’t tallies of figures that she was absorbed in. She sat scratching out notes in her journal, a fog of distraction and frustration making her push the nib deeper into the paper as she tried to recount everything from the past few days. It didn’t help that her sleep had been poor either. Adding onto that, her chief maid was still absent on errands, most of them related to her current projects: the tarped-over hole in the mansion and the experimental batch of pseudo-beer. And that wasn’t even beginning to account for aggravations like certain pissants named Blümchen, whose entire function was to give every unfortunate soul who encountered her an existential crisis.

A stabbing feeling resonated through Remilia’s head, and she rubbed her temples, setting her pen down to nurse a weak cup of now-lukewarm tea. Things were either happening too much or not enough. Whichever it was, her nerves were growing too frayed to continue. She squinted at one of the covered windows as if trying to spot Sakuya’s distant approach through them. They remained as opaque as ever, and suddenly she felt her ears ringing.

For a minute, she thought tinny jangling in her ears was just the beginnings of a stress headache, but the noise became louder. Then, just as it reached its peak volume, it stopped. There was a knock at the door.

“Mistress! I have news! May I come in?” a voice shouted, immediately followed by the door swinging open anyway.

A faerie with scruffy lilac hair and black, thick-rimmed glasses stood in the doorway saluting, revealing a red armband with a spread-winged bat, the markings of the faerie patrol. It was a fancy title, which the faeries liked, but it really just meant that they meandered atop the mansion and reported on anyone approaching, which tended to be irritating in practice. Living down to Remilia’s expectations, the patrol-fae was still ringing her bell in her non-saluting hand.

“Yes? Report,” Remilia snapped, glaring at the bell with an intense wish that it would just explode.

Noting her mistress’ intense stare, the patrol-fae held her bell hand still. “The chief maid’s almost back, ma’am! And she’s got a couple faeries with her and some… some other somethings! I dunno what they are.”

“Other somethings,” Remilia repeated.

“One of them is very furry, and another one’s wet and scaly. Oh, and there’s a red one, too.”

“Yes, thank you—” Remilia looked at her, trying to remember her name, then seeing she’d given herself a nametag. ‘Sigrid’ was written in loopy, colorful letters. “—Sigrid. Now, bring me Darcy, will you?”

“Roger!” Sigrid saluted with the other hand, smacking herself in the forehead with her bell, then scurried away.

Remilia stood up and stretched her back, working out the kinks in her shoulders as she waited for Darcy, the shrimpy little faerie who could be bullied by her own reflection; being the sort to disappear readily into the backdrop, she was the ideal parasol-carrier. She peeked through the wooden slats of her blinds and felt her eyes tingle, confirming that there was still some twilight sun. After taking a moment to blink away the lingering sting of weak sunlight, she straightened her dress and walked out into the hallway, where Darcy nearly crashed into her.

“Good evening, ma’am! Ready to be eager to serve at your leisure!” Darcy yelped, her glasses askew and her green hair tangling in front of her face, clutching the parasol she’d brought.

“Just the usual, thanks,” Remilia said, already walking towards the great hall.

Darcy scarcely had time to stutter a response before racing to fall behind Remilia, holding her lady’s parasol as gingerly as a relic. Two nearby faeries swooped in and grabbed the door handles as Darcy opened her parasol, floating above Remilia to shield her as the heavy doors swung open.

Remilia let out a long, loud, irritated sigh as she spotted Sakuya ambling through the courtyard. The chief maid’s main task was to fetch brewing supplies, and here she’d returned with three strays and what looked like a wheelbarrow of passed-out faeries. With a second look, Remilia faintly remembered two of the unwelcome guests with Sakuya, the wolf-girl and the sometimes headless redhead she had bumped into a day or two ago. The wolf-girl was pushing a wheelbarrow that the third tagalong sat in. A fish tail splashed up behind the blue-haired girl, kicking up water as she talked excitedly with Sakuya.

“--thirty-seven blue ones, fifteen red ones, and a couple of orange ones too! All just sitting on the bottom of the lake!”

“Fascinating,” Sakuya replied, then hiccuped.

The wolf-girl slowed down as she noticed Remilia glaring at them, then saw nobody else was matching her pace. Remilia looked over to see Sigrid already back at her post.

“Those’re the ones, Lady Remilia! The furry one and the—”

“Get me Toamnă,” Remilia hissed.

Sigrid gasped and reeled back. “Toamnă? But she’s weird and gross and—”

“Toamnă. Here. Now.”

“Yes’m!” Sigrid yelped and disappeared into the mansion.

The entire approaching group was now aware of Remilia glowering at them as they came to a stop in front of her. Although, the chief maid looked to be the least shaken by it.

“Oh, my. It looks like we’re here,” Sakuya said, drawing Remilia’s full-on glare, staring right back at her mistress. She blinked and stifled a belch. “I’m did a… return, Milady.”

“Right, everyone, we’re heading inside,” Remilia said after a pause, waving at everyone for them to follow her. She turned around and spotted Toamnă already standing in the great hall through the open doors.

Toamnă was tall for a faerie, with long, rusty auburn hair cut in short bangs in front of her face, and thick black-rimmed glasses. Her lips were pursed in her usual put-upon expression, as if she was always picking up someone else’s slack, which was often the case. Out of numerous fae, she was a rare specimen with a sense of obligation and fair play, believing that people should follow rules and perform their duties dependably. Such audacious deviations from faerie ‘normalcy’ earned her the title of outcast among the maids. By the same token, she was exactly who Remilia needed to fill in for her inebriated chief maid.

“I need to have a word with Sakuya, and then I’ll be having breakfast with the guests in the private dining room. Take our guests there, get them started, and I’ll be meeting back with them soon. Oh, and have the kitchen bring out some of the Bayonne, I need something good now,” Remilia said, dispensing with the normal formalities as her stomach and head complained in unison.

Toamnă bowed and nodded, then turned to the guests.

“Um, hello,” she said.

“Hi!” the mermaid chirped, waving at Toamnă. The other two shuffled awkwardly on their feet.

“So, erm, follow me.” From Toamnă’s lips, the request came out more like a question.

The group departed for the dining room, and Remilia turned to Darcy, who was looking more nervous than usual, still shielding Remilia even as the doors shut behind her.

“Yes, thank you, Darcy. We’re indoors now. Dismissed.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You’re welcome! Don’t forget to write!” Darcy babbled, nodding like whatever kept her head in place had broken. She flew over to the umbrella stand and bowed to it before putting the parasol away and thanking it.

All others gone, Remilia now had the chance to give Sakuya another glare. “Follow me. We’re going to get those faeries dropped off, and then you’re going to tell me what the hell has happened.”

“Yes, Milady,” Sakuya said, lifting the faeries out of the wheelbarrow and hoisting them over her shoulder.

Remilia glanced around her, checking that they had some amount of privacy before she started talking.

“So, those people you brought home. Who are they? What do they want? And, most importantly, why in hell are you drunk?”

Sakuya thought for a moment before responding. “While I was taking care of the errands, I hired someone to watch the furniture stand for the evening, a relative of Mr. Masuda’s. Oh, you will be pleased to know that the stand was a success, and the faeries sold a—”

“Save it, Sakuya. I’m more interested in how you’ve gotten snookered right now,” Remilia cut in.

“As it happened, Rokuro — that was the name of the fellow I hired — was part of a local brewing club. He asked if they could meet at the furniture stand, and since milady wishes to obtain dregs for a beer starter, I agreed.”

“And did you actually get any beer starter?”

Sakuya drew to a stop. “Oh.”

“So you didn’t get any beer starter. Though you did, clearly, get drunk.”

“Yes,” Sakuya agreed, walking again.

“And how much did you have?”

There was another brief silence from Sakuya. Her eyes briefly seemed to cross before righting themselves. “There are some gaps in my memory.”

“Dracul,” Remilia muttered under her breath. “Moving along, how did you wind up meeting our guests?”

“Ah, yes. After the end of the brewing club’s meeting, the faeries and I became lost on our way home. The footpaths are hard to follow in the dark, and so—”

“Sakuya,” Remilia interrupted again.

“Milady?”

“You can fly.”

“Oh. Yes, I will have to remember that next time,” Sakuya said, blinking. “In any case, I encountered our guests by the Misty Lake. They are the same ones we encountered a few days ago. Does Milady remember them? They were the ones toasting acorns in the forest.”

“Indeed. They got on my nerves that time, too. I’m assuming the mermaid is one of their friends? I had told them— Oh, merde.” The memory of just what Remilia had said felt like a jab to the ribs.

“You had told them someday you would help them to… reclaim their rightful place as creatures of the night, or words to that effect, Milady.”

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Remilia groaned, more to herself than to Sakuya. They reached the faeries’ quarters, and Sakuya tucked the faeries into bed as Remilia took a moment to lament and bemoan.

“Did I make a mistake, Milady?” Sakuya asked as soon as the two maids were tucked away safely.

Remilia took a long sigh. At least Sakuya hadn’t tried any of her time powers, she thought. The last time the chief maid stopped time after getting into the sauce, mysterious stains had appeared on the ceiling.

“Just… take the evening off, okay? Get some sleep, and don’t think of using your watch until you’re stone-cold sober. That’s an order.” Remilia waved her hand. “Dismissed.”

“Understood, milady. Thank you.” Sakuya bowed. Obediently following orders, she walked to an unoccupied bed, flopped down on top of it, and immediately began to snore.

Remilia saw herself out. She needed to deal with her guests, and more than that, she needed some damned food. And some more caffeine. She passed by the kitchen, down several halls, and to the entrance to the private dining room, forcing herself not to wonder how the kitchen was connected to two dining rooms on opposite ends of the mansion.

Inside, Remilia’s guests were already seated. Even the mermaid girl was somehow sitting on her fish-parts, her tail not entirely dry, letting droplets of water run onto the floor. Toamnă had started them off with some tea and breakfast rolls and was now standing off to the side, fidgeting and looking entirely lost as to what she should be doing next. At the table, Sekibanki was the only one eating with any sense of table manners, while Kagerou sank her teeth into her roll and took great big chomps, and the mermaid seemed more interested in amusing herself by squishing hers than eating it. Toamnă pulled Remilia’s chair out for her, bidding her to join them.

“Thank you, Toamnă. Is breakfast ready?”

“I hope so.” Toamnă wasted no time retreating into the kitchen as soon as Remilia was seated.

Remilia helped herself to some tea as she waited. Moments later, the kitchen doors burst open as faeries streamed out, each one carrying a tray and hurrying towards the dining table.

“’Scuse me!”

“Coming through!”

“Watch the elbows!”

The sound of shouting faeries mixed with the clatter of silverware, creating a focused chaos as the table filled with dishes. It was a normal breakfast for Remilia, but it seemed to terrify her guests. Kagerou’s wolf-ears went flat and submissive as her tail bristled and perked up. The fish-girl raised her arms, balling her fists as if getting ready to block a punch. Sekibanki shrank away to hide her face behind her cowl.

The cacophony ended as suddenly as it started, leaving the room silent except for the kitchen door swinging on its hinges. Toamnă blinked. Her hair had been tousled and her glasses knocked off-center from the ruckus, and she took a moment to smooth herself over as her wings buzzed nervously.

“Breakfast is, uh, served,” she said with a curtsy.

The fish-girl slowly lowered her defenses. Her mouth hung open as she took in the spread before her — jams, pastries, eggs, vegetables, meat, and sausages. Kagerou drooled as she spotted the plate stacked high with Bayonne ham. She picked up a thick slice with her bare hands and sank her teeth into it, showing her animal side as she ripped a chunk off of it and stuffed her mouth, chewing loudly. Only Sekibanki, the red-head, didn’t eat like an animal, helping herself to some jam and toast. Remilia took some for herself and took a minute to satisfy her hunger before speaking.

“Now then, you had some business here, correct?”

The redhead daubed her mouth with her napkin after a quick bite of sausage. “Oh, that’s right, sorry. I’m Sekibanki, and this is Kagerou. I wasn’t sure if you’d remembered us. The new girl here is Wakasagihime.”

“Hi, that’s me! I’m Wakasagihime!” said Wakasagihime, waving to Remilia.

Remilia smirked at the thought of the mermaid having a royal title; what nobility stooped over a plate, slurping down scrambled eggs covered in strawberry jam?

“Charmed.” Remilia turned back to Sekibanki. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Just what is it that brought you here today?”

“Oh, um, I’m not— I’m their friend, but I’m not ‘with them,’ they’ve got a…” Sekibanki tilted her head and showed an embarrassed smile.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want them getting bullied,” Sekibanki said. Her face was steeled, but it was hard for her to sound dramatic as she spoke over her friends’ loud chomping and slurping noises.

“My dear, I can’t help you if I don’t know who’s in your way,” Remilia said, running out of diplomatic ways to ask her to get to the damned point already.

Sekibanki hung her head. “It’s… these three faeries,” she mumbled.

“Faeries,” Remilia repeated derisively.

“Faeries!” Wakasagihime cut in, thumping her fists on the table, suddenly forgetting her food.

Faeries, Remilia thought. All this buildup for a few whelps driven to desperation by some stray pranksters.

“They’re the nastiest, most wicked little beasties! They steal my clothes when I’m skinny-dipping and call me a beached tuna!”

“Princess,” Kagerou said softly, finally drawn out of her ham-induced stupor to look at Wakasagihime with concern.

“They shave Kagerou’s ears when she’s napping!”

“Oh, how tragic. How utterly terrible,” Remilia bemoaned, rolling her eyes.

“D-Don’t make fun of me!” Wakasagihime whimpered, her cheeks rounding out in a full-faced pout.

Remilia threw her napkin down next to her plate. “Do you have any idea what I am capable of? Even the faintest inkling?”

“You said you’d help us,” Sekibanki interjected, glaring at her.

“I weave the threads of fate around my fingers! Coming to me weeping about your little pest problem is like asking a queen to weed your garden.”

“You don’t gotta rub it in,” Wakasagihime mumbled, glancing away, looking suddenly exhausted with disappointment.

“Are you going back on your word, then?” Sakibanki snapped, staring harder at Remilia as she issued a challenge.

Remilia spluttered. “Pah! Between the three of you, I’d have expected enough of a brain to make your first plan something other than making weepy-eyes at the nearest vampress. What you have is a pest control problem. I had a lesser daemon stumble into my library yesterday. Frankly, I can’t spare any precious time for your every inconvenience.”

“They’re not just ‘an inconvenience’! They’re really mean, and they make all of us miserable, not just me!” Wakasagihime shouted, shaking her fists, tears forming in her eyes.

Remilia made another dismissive noise. “Go on, tell me more of these faeries’ horrible crimes against nature and decency. Name-calling? Rudeness? Littering?”

Wakasagihime’s face took on a look of determination, as if she was sure her next tale would make Remilia weep. “Just wait ‘til you hear! Just a couple of days ago, they took—”

“Princess, please,” Kagerou said, her cheeks still stuffed with ham as she frowned.

“—they took Banki’s head, and—”

“Wakasagihime, don’t,” Sekibanki squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.

“—and played monkey-in-the-middle with it!”

Sekibanki buried her face in her hands. Wakasagihime gave Remilia a pleading look. Remilia’s scowl turned upwards. She let out a confused, slightly stunned snicker, and then, as she imagined the act, the snickers became hoots of laughter. Wakasagihime slumped in her chair, defeated again, and started to cry. Remilia had only a few moments to enjoy her laughter before Sekibanki’s fists slammed against the table hard enough to knock a few spoons out of their bowls.

“You, out in the hall, now. We need to have a word,” she snarled at Remilia, her face as red as her hair.

Remilia stopped laughing as her expression whipped right back to indignant and patronized.

“As a matter of fact,” I think we do!” Remilia huffed as she stood up from her chair and shoved it aside. She noted Toamnă had made herself scarce and scowled harder to herself. Hopefully, not many faeries heard all those comments about their species being pests and weeds and ruffians.

Sekibanki shoved the door open and stomped into the hallway. Remilia followed after with a nasty curiosity about what this little nobody would dare try to do to her. As soon as the door closed behind them, leaving them alone in the hallways, Sekibanki raised her hand and jabbed a finger at her.

“You wanna know why we came to you first? I wish my friends didn’t have to come to see your high-and-mighty butt to beg for help. Right now, though? We don’t have anyone else. We’ve been stuck on the bottom, and you’re the first person in a long, long time to offer my friends any hope of some help. I knew we might have to walk away empty-handed, but there’s no way I’m walking out of here with my friends crying. You might be a million times stronger than me, but if you think that means you can just walk over me and my friends, I… I’ll fight you myself!” She pushed through her tears, shouting at Remilia until she had said her piece.

“Is that a threat, whelp?” Remilia countered.

Sekibanki drew her hand back and slapped Remilia across the cheek, with all the might her scrawny body could muster. The blow sent her reeling back, as if she had hit herself even harder. Remilia showed her fangs and raised her hand. As she felt a bright red spear begin to take shape in her hand, Sekibanki charged at her, thumping her fists against Remilia’s chest and shoulders to no effect.

As easy as turning the dullahan into a smear would have been, Remilia’s arm stayed still. She stood there for what could well have been several eternities, eyes narrowed at Sekibanki. At length, her grip on her weapon loosened.

“Oh, hell. What am I doing,” Remilia mumbled to herself, closing her eyes and letting the spear dissipate into the air. She felt something, not quite anger or disappointment or frustration, but a draining mix of all three.

Sekibanki pulled herself away from Remilia and crossed her arms, blinking away tears and trying not to show any fear for her life she had just felt.

“S-So, are you g-going to apologize and help us?” she sniffed.

Remilia sighed. Her sense of pride stung and ached, but it couldn’t bring her to even think of striking back at Sekibanki. She turned away from Sekibanki and stared at the wall.

Here she had gone and made bold promises to some down-on-their-luck strangers, and they had the gall to believe her. She couldn’t even wrap them around her finger like she had hoped before she went and threw a tantrum. Every foolish new promise she made only seemed to tangle and break right in front of her. Some ‘mistress of fate’ she turned out to be; if fate was such a trivial thing, her chief maid would never have returned wobbly-legged. She turned back around to face Sekibanki, who was still glaring at her, not willing to leave until she had an answer.

“Alright, you,” Remilia said with a sad smile.


[ ] “Noblesse oblige — a woman of my standing has an obligation to help the weak.”
[ ] “Despite how it may seem, I’m… not unfamiliar with feeling weak and powerless.”
[ ] “I can see a little of myself in you. I think that’s a compliment, though it might not seem it.”

Remilia looked at Sekibanki and saw a desperate, cornered young nobody, holding back tears as she stared down a mighty vampress, knowing that one wrong move could be her death. She heard a muffled flitting sound and glanced over to see a faerie hiding herself poorly around the corner.

“We should probably continue this discussion somewhere more private,” Remilia said.

Sekibanki’s stern glare broke as she looked longingly at the dining room door behind her. Remilia wondered if her invitation to discussion sounded more like an execution to her. She forced a smile.

“It would be terribly ill-mannered of me to harm a guest,” she said.

Sekibanki looked back at Remilia, then at the door again. She heaved out a sigh, her shoulders sinking.

“Okay. They’ll be fine in there,” she said.

“They will. Toamnă may be a faerie, but she’s surprisingly trustworthy.”

Remilia led her down the hall, through the maze of the mansion, to a luxurious lounge room. A half-circle of large, thickly-padded chairs sat towards a stone fireplace, unused for the summer season. On the other side of the room, silk-lined sofas faced each other as if prepared for a symposium, with a mahogany cabinet just behind them, its glass panels showing a well-stocked selection of liqueurs and wines. Remilia waved for Sekibanki to take a seat in one of the sofas as she perused her options in the cabinet.

“Would you like a drink, Sekibanki?”

“Um, no thank you,” she replied as she took a seat, bouncing slightly on the cushion.

“Very well.”

Remilia poured herself a tall glass of white whine, then brought the rest of the bottle along with her, setting them both on the end table. She took a sofa of her own and reclined against the armrest, half seated and half lying.

“Let me tell you a story, Sekibanki.”

Remilia took a slow, pensive sip of wine as Sekibanki waited. Remilia had told this story quite a few times in her long life, but Sekibanki would be the first new person to hear it in decades. She took a slow, pensive sip of wine and let the details float back to her.

Remilia had lived all over Europe, from France to Belgium to Russia, and had travelled to India, China, and beyond, but as far as she was concerned, only one place was ‘home’ to her — a little place nestled in the northern Carpathians. She was born there, and for a while she had reigned there, but that was generations ago. It was pleasantly boring, just another collection of farms and shops, the sort of place she had never expected to hear mentioned in the busy metropolitan capital she had settled into a few years ago. And yet she heard whispers. Rumors that the forests there had grown thick with unholy creatures, and that a small crusading order, thought to have faded into obscurity, was plotting to return to prominence by purging that forest of evil.

The rumors were quite likely to be true. Remilia remembered that forest from her youth. It was an unsettling place, seeming to thrum with the arcane. Even humans relatively numb to the presence of magic could feel it in their bones when they drew too close. The locals said it was where the souls of the dead wandered if they became waylaid after death. It must have seemed quite the tempting target to a crusading order on the brink of going out of fashion.

Tempting, yes, but Remilia wouldn’t let it be easy. She had kept her vampirism a secret and ingratiated herself into the world of human life, but even though she had never lived among her fellow creatures, she still felt a great deal of commiseration with them. After all, she realized, that forest was so close to her home, the place where her late father had made the dynastic change from human to vampire. Any plans she had made would have to wait. She had only one plan now — return to her home and see if she could save a fellow vampire from the purge.

That night, she slipped away from the city and made her way back, leaving behind the world of courtiers and servants as she traveled alone. She walked at night and hitched rides along wagon trains during the day. She was out of the country in just four days, and traveled frantically for two weeks, relying on her vampiric nature to keep her going, needing hardly any sleep.

It was a bittersweet relief as she stood on the outskirts of her old home. A part of her wanted to walk down through the familiar streets, but she knew nobody would recognize her after so many generations. Besides, she had come here with a goal. She stayed outside the village’s walls as she walked around it, passing by the quiet fields of barley, trying not to think of her old life as a Countess.

The farms gave way to clearings, then to overgrowth as the forest came into view across the flat plain. Her nose twitched, as if she had suddenly breathed in cold air. Already her senses were reacting to the presence of otherworldly forces. She followed it as she entered the forest, going wherever made the thrum of magic grow stronger.

A distinctly worldly sensation caught her — the smell of burnt wood. She hurried after its origin and found the remnants of a battle. Trees were marked with scratches and crossbow bolts. A black patch of burned underbrush scarred the ground, littered with snapped branches. A severed arm lay near the patch, burnt on one end, with the remnants of a complex sigil tattooed on it. Remilia knelt down to pick it up.

Innate knowledge rose up from deep within her as she touched it. This was once part of a vampire’s thrall. She had a glimpse of his form before death: thin and emaciated, little more than a skeleton with skin. His front teeth had been forced to grow into long fangs, making his mouth misshapen and mangled. His nails had grown into claws that ripped the skin on his fingers.

Remilia shuddered and cast the arm aside. She’d heard that other vampires took thralls, but she never knew the process was so ghastly, or for that matter, the results. For the first time, she wondered how she would have been welcomed by the master of such a creature. There was no use in wondering that now, though. The crusaders had already been here, and what’s worse, they knew what they were doing. If the size of the black patch was any indication, they had burnt every bit of the vampire to ash, removing any chance of him coming back to unlife.

She shook her head. She may have been too late for this fellow, but the battle here was obviously recent. There might have been someone else yet to save.

The buzz in the air lingered as Remilia walked away. She went deeper into the forest. Instinct was her only guide as she wandered deeper through the forest. The sudden sound of rustling leaves caught her attention, and she stopped as she saw figures moving behind the trees. She stood up straight and glared at the figures, letting her presence exude and dominate the atmosphere. As the figures drew closer, she could see what they were: a gathering of brown bears.

They formed a circle around her, looking her down as they moved as one. The way they moved was too organized. They must have been working on the orders of some supernatural tamer — the sort of person worth knowing, and leading to safety. The bears slapped at the ground and growled at Remilia, but her stern glare left them too frightened to draw closer. They kept at it, shaking their stressed faces and cutting into the dirt with their paws.

Remilia saw something on top of the largest bear’s back. Purple streaks mixed in with the fur. She stepped closer. The bear seemed to panic, as if trying to go backwards and forwards at the same time. The purple streaks, she realized, were long strands of hair.

“Piotr, I said get her! Bite her! Kill her!”

A small figure rose up to her hands and knees on the bear’s back. It was a small girl with long purple hair, looking a little like a bear herself as she shoved at the shoulders of the bear — presumably named Piotr — in an attempt to get him to charge. The bear let out a whimper and shook his head. He knew he was outmatched, whether or not his tamer would accept it. Remilia stood her ground, hands on her hips, but as the girl thumped her fists against Piotr’s back, her scowl rose up into a smirk. She wondered how long the girl would coax her steed in a vain attempt to attack, or if she’d finally realise that Remilia meant her no harm.

The girl chose neither of those options, and instead rose to her shaky feet on top of the bear’s back. She drew a knife out from her pack. Remilia saw the girl’s wild, ragged, tear-stained eyes stare at her, her gaze unmoving as she held the knife high and leapt.

Remilia couldn’t resist sighing. “Oh, please.”

She reached out and caught the girl mid-leap, knocking the wind out of her. She set the girl down, and she immediately fell to her knees, still keeping a white-knuckled grip on her knife as she gasped for air. The girl scrambled back up to her feet, but this time she was met with the firm, even glare that Remilia had given to her bear companions. Remilia had not, of course, ever been taught the specifics of her powers, but she had learned on her own that her stare had a way of getting someone’s undivided attention.

“There we are. With that nonsense over with, I would like to let you know that you’re in grave danger and I am, in fact, here to help you.”

The girl looked at Remilia, then hung her head and shook it slowly.

“You can’t. You’re too late. Everything’s gone,” she mumbled, then fell to her knees and began to sniffle and take deep, heaving breaths.

The other bears ambled away, but Piotr tottered forward, bent his head down, and gave the girl an affectionate lick on the hand. Remilia pursed her lips.

“You’re still here, aren’t you? Are you just going to stay here?”

The girl took more heavy, shuddering breaths. “I can’t leave them behind, I have to…”

“Can’t leave whom behind?”

The girl let out one more sigh, then pulled herself up to her feet, suddenly stone-faced with purpose. She turned and ran away, immediately followed by her bear companion.

“There’s something I still need to do,” she said, more to herself than to Remilia.

“Wait! Didn’t you hear me?”

Remilia ran after her. She had come here hoping to be the heroine and now she’d been reduced to chasing after a child. She grunted and grumbled under her breath as she chased the girl through the thick forest, then stopped as she reached a clearing.

She looked out at what must have been the remnants of the girl’s village, confirming her fears. Embers still smouldered on the thatched roofs of mangled huts. Smashed barrels and carts left pieces of wood and metal strewn along the footpaths. Piled up behind one of the houses was a heap of dead bodies. The thick smell of blood filled Remilia’s nostrils, flaring up her hunger, but she resisted the notion. Not only would it be very poor timing, but besides, only scavengers feasted on the dead.

She found the girl standing by a large fire pit in the center of the village. A crusading banner sat in the pit, chopped up to be used as kindling. Her tears flowed anew as she arranged some things around the pit: a shallow copper bowl, a drum, and a staff with copper rings. She stopped as she saw Remilia approaching.

“I need to send them on. They’ll be stuck here if I… Um, in any case, I need to do it myself. I would prefer you didn’t watch.”

She forced out each word, struggling to keep composure. Remilia knew that anything she said to her would only be an interruption. She gave her some privacy, stepping away behind one of the half-demolished houses to find Piotr there, sitting on his haunches and grooming himself. She sat and waited, staying alert to any signs of the crusaders coming back to look for stragglers.

A soft sound like the echoes of ringing glass filled the air. Remilia looked up and saw thin wisps of white fog coalesce in the air, floating over the houses and towards the fire pit. So, she thought, there was some truth to the whispered stories of lost souls wandering in the forest. Piotr poked his head against Remilia’s shoulder and sniffed her, warming up to her presence. She watched as more of the small, hazy clouds floated down from the air until the flow was reduced to a trickle, then nothing.

“It’s done,” the girl said, emerging from behind the house.

“Excellent. And now you’ll get ready to follow me to safety away from here, yes?”

The girl turned around and took one last look at the remnants of the village, her gaze moving slowly from ruined house to ruined house, shuddering as she looked over the pile of bodies. Remilia recognized the sentiment on the girl’s face: the feeling of returning home only to find you don’t have a home anymore.

“I just need to grab a few things,” she said and rushed back towards the firepit.

“Just be quick about it, take what you can’t replace and I’ll provide the rest,” Remilia said, following her.

“And Piotr has to come along,” she said, stuffing things into her satchel.

“Consider it done.” Remilia waved her hand, flicking the problem away.

“He likes to eat hazelnuts.” The girl stopped for a moment and looked at Remilia, as if sizing up her response.

“Then hazelnuts he shall have. We can sort out the rest of the menu later, because, I must repeat, every minute we spend here is another minute in danger.”

Unable to argue with that, the girl packed away a few more trinkets and climbed onto Piotr’s back. She started to turn her head back, then resisted the thought and forced herself to look forward, away from the ruined village.

“I’m a fool to trust you,” she muttered as they walked away.

“Soon to be a safe and well-fed fool. Speaking of which. If you’re going to come with you, I should at least know your name. I am Remilia Scarlet. Perhaps you have picked up on my nature?”

The girl nodded. “I know a vampire when I see one. Hence, why I tried to kill you, and why I’m still not convinced you’re truly here to help me. In any case, my name is Patchouli. Patchouli Knowledge.”

The veil of reminiscing lifted, bringing Remilia back to the present moment, sunk into her chair, drunk on nostalgia and Riesling. With her vampiric metabolism, the drinks were thankfully starting to clear from her head already. She just wished she could say the same for Sakuya, sleeping off her beers.

“She’s still with me today, all these years later. She does research down in the library.”

Sekibanki fidgeted in her seat. “That’s nice and all, but I’m not really sure why you told me all that.”

Remilia drummed her fingers on the armrest, pondering how to respond to that. It was the first time she had told the story to someone who wasn’t a long-time resident of the mansion.

“Because, I mean… it kind of sounds like you messed up. And then let Patchouli take advantage of you,” Sekibanki said.

Remilia harrumphed. “Yes, that would be the uncharitable way to put it. Think of it this way, though. That young girl tried to kill me, and then made demands of me. And yet, I took her in regardless. There is a saying in the world I come from — ‘nobility obliges.’ With power and privilege comes a responsibility to act with charity and grace to the weak and downtrodden. Your courage from earlier reminded me of young Patchouli, and of my duty.”

Remilia stroked her chin and nodded to herself. Sekibanki blinked.

“But you had to brainwash her, right? And then made her work for you?”

“It’s not-- Oh, for the love of… I’m offering to help you!”

“You are?” Sekibanki blinked again, genuinely surprised.

“Yes! As I said, with my power I have a responsibility to help the… ahem, well, no offense but your fish friend brought you here for a reason. And I didn’t brainwash Patchouli! I just calmed her down a little.”

Sekibanki sighed and bit her lip. Even with the cowl obscuring her mouth, Remilia recognized her face. It was the expression of someone who had tried so hard to refuse admitting weakness, and was nervously watching her options dwindle. She worked up another firm stare as she looked up to Remilia.

“Wait. What’s your idea of ‘helping’ here?” she asked.

Remilia rubbed her chin again. She wished Sekibanki hadn’t asked that. Remilia was never much for making detailed plans before jumping in, which in retrospect, explained a lot. Still, she could see the spark of hope in Sekibanki’s eyes, and wanted to keep it alight.

“I would like to accompany you and your friends back home after breakfast. I will stay with you a while, and…”


[ ] “…I shall train you, teach you to be strong enough to defend yourselves.”
[ ] "…I will make it clear to those pests that you and I are allies.”
[ ] "…I’ll show you when we get there.”

[X] “… I shall train you, teach you to be strong enough to defend yourselves.”

Right. After all that talk about noblesse oblige, Remilia had nearly lost track of herself. They needed help and she would provide it. The lingering question was how.

Her nails pattered on the leather armrest as she pondered, the faint wish for a snifter of something stronger than Riesling (maybe a port?) picking at her. It was while she swatted at those circling thought-harpies that she came to the unpleasant conclusion that her people skills might have grown rusty. How such a thing had happened, she couldn’t be sure. After all, what were negotiations beyond fine-ish dining, a comfy couch, and an engaging yarn? Certainly, she’d sweetened the deal to the best of her abilities by that standard. And yet, against all odds, Remilia would have to lay out specifics before Sekibanki would agree to anything.

Another moment’s consideration was enough for her to hit on something, drawing an inward smile from her, soon to become an outward one, to Sekibanki’s visible displeasure. She sprang up from her seat and plopped herself down next to Sekibanki, gripping her shoulder in a sororal squeeze. Sekibanki darted a glance toward the door. The wine was already losing its effect, but the surging thrill of possibility was twice as intoxicating for the vampress.

“Why Sekibanki, my dear, you look as if you’re expecting something awful! What’re you anticipating, me drinking your blood? Making you my thrall? Stealing your soul?” she exclaimed in the giddy tones of a scheming socialite.

The dullahan’s carmine eyes quivered, reminding Remilia of the first time she met her, after blowing a tree clean off its trunk. “Y-You wouldn’t…”

“Correct! The help I’m offering is far, far more mundane. Your faerie problem is, to my mind, one of territorial security. Well, in my high society affairs, I learned a thing or two about that.”

“Territorial… what?” Sekibanki shook her head and recovered from any thoughts of immediate mortal peril. “Like an army, or— Would we have to live here? Or learn how to command faeries? I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple,” Remilia said emphatically. She pointed with her wine glass out and up like a commander’s baton. “The problem is that getting things is easy, but keeping things is hard. You and your friends, if I may hazard a guess, just need a few lessons in how to keep things. Chances are, you won’t even have to fight anyone head-on. The faeries just need to see that harassing you isn’t worth the effort. Or the pain, if it comes to that.”

A long, meaningful moment passed in silence as Sekibanki stared at Remilia. Though her manner had betrayed only doubt and terror most of the time, something of a glimmer shone in the darkness of her eye.

Sekibanki pursed her lips and closed her eyes before giving a cautious nod at last. “Alright, you have my interest. But this isn’t just my call to make. I want to talk this over with my fr— those two before committing.”

“Naturellement.”

Remilia felt assured she would get her way as she strode from the lounge and led the return to the dining room, confident that her rusty skills had still been enough to get her way, despite the dullahan's dull expression. They proceeded down corridors and stairs, passing by faeries at work, and more faeries who tried to look like they were working when they saw their mistress approach. Remilia turned to make some comment about the faerie work ethic, but saw that the only thing Sekibanki was focused on was her own feet. The girl was trailing by several strides, plodding along with the ashen look of one who had just come within a half-inch of a runaway boulder. The talk of stealing souls and making thralls had perhaps not been as playful as Remilia had intended.

The rest of stroll to the dining room was uneventful, though Remilia did pause to determine if said room had suddenly displaced itself. It was apt to do that, and usually at the oddest moments, especially when Sakuya was asleep. One of these days she really would have to get Sakuya and Patchouli to sit down for a long, long talk to clear all that up.

Finding the room stationary for the moment, Remilia drew a deep breath before opening the door. The moment of triumph was near at hand.

“Ladies, we have ret—”

The door swung open to a scene less than fitting for Remilia’s triumph. Stray bits of food had made their way all over the table and beyond, a smear of gooseberry preserves running along the walls and a bread roll somehow stuck on the ceiling. Mysterious greasy fluid pooled on the floor near the head of the table. Silverware lay about like it had been used once and dropped. And there, in the middle of all the carnage, were the pair: Kagerou, her ears twitching as she snored in her chair, and Wakasagihime, lying across her friend’s lap. Their feasting had given way to the blissful dozing that so often followed.

A quiet clearing of the throat drew Remilia’s attention to the wall. Like a dutiful maid still waiting at table, Toamnă had been standing by, trying not draw any notice to herself. She hurried to her mistress with a curtsy.

“Beg your pardon for the mess, milady. The mademoiselle with the wolf ears kept eating in her sleep, and I couldn’t be certain when it would be safe,” the bespectacled faerie confided in a low voice.

Remilia harrumphed, somewhat deflated after expecting a moment of wide-eyed admiration from the young youkai. Even the smaller parts of her plan weren't going quite how she had hoped.

Taking it in as much stride as possible for the moment, she cleared her throat. “Well, it seems you two have enjoyed yourselves.”

Kagerou’s ears gave a start and her tail bristled as she stirred awake at once, subsequently relaxing and giving a low whine once her eyes had focused. She nudged Wakasagihime. Her fish-friend muttered before rising from her lap, her fin-ears wiggling like Kagerou’s had. So very much alike, Remilia couldn’t help but note.

“Oh, right. You were going to talk about…” Kagerou mumbled before turning to her friend. “They were talking about something, weren’t they? Her and ‘banki.”

“That thing. The thing she’s gonna do.” Wakasagihime nodded sagely with a jam-smeared smile.

Remilia nearly began re-explaining the purpose of their visit, but turned instead to Sekibanki. “Would you like to tell them? They might like to hear it straight from you.”

Sekibanki nodded, looking to be back to her normal self, and huddled with the other two. She started recounting a jumbled version of what Remilia had told her, her audience drawn in for all its lack of pomp. Kagerou's tail even stood up at some of the more exciting details. Yes, Remilia thought, that was more like what she had expected. Humble as they were, they were easily impressed and would prove to be convinced that Remilia’s nobility would become their shield. They were right, but by accepting her protection, they would become like her vassals, accepting her guidance, wanting her to remain strong, spreading her influence. Helping others, Remilia had learned, truly could be its own reward. She bit her lip to hide the wicked cackle she felt coming on.

While she watched the mermaid and werewolf blanch at the word ‘organisation’, Remilia noticed Toamnă’s discreet attempt to catch her attention.

“Forgive my forwardness, milady, but…” Toamnă nodded toward the kitchen door. She was half-poised to walk away, but Remilia’s hand arrested her.

“Tut tut, think not of housework, dear Toamnă. Tonight, you’re blessed with the opportunity to adventure with us,” Remilia chided with a waggle of her finger. “Your fae expertise will be needed.”

Toamnă immediately looked crestfallen. “V-Very good, milady.”

Remilia knew that ‘adventure’ was the last thing Toamnă wanted, preferring the safety, stability, and solitude of housework. However, if anyone could be depended upon to help best a bunch of faeries, it was a much more intelligent faerie. Besides, she was big enough to serve as porter if need be.

There was the telltale winding down of conversation from the group. Remilia noticed that the quiet reverence on their faces was gone, replaced by something equally hopeful but more… decided. They had definitely made up their minds on something, whatever it was.

“I take it you agree, then?” Remilia inquired.

The three looked at each other, and then there was a nod from Kagerou and Wakasagihime. Sekibanki flashed an assenting thumbs-up. If there weren’t watchful eyes on her, Remilia’s wings would have fluttered from the rush of victory. Instead, she returned Sekibanki’s sign along with a muted quiver of her wings.

“Excellent! Then let’s strike out at once! But first, preparations.” She guided Toamnă forward, the faerie still looking despondent. “Toamnă here will show you the pantry. I grant her — and by extension, you — full access to my stores. Nothing off-limits. Take what you will and meet me in the great hall.”

Remilia turned around with a flourish of her dress, then heard the distinct lack of reaction and turned back around to face them. Sekibanki looked cautious of the offer; Wakasagihime was coming to terms with the thought of following a faerie; and Kagerou seemed stuck a few orders behind.

“Just follow Toamnă, yes? She knows what to do.” She flashed a polite smile and looked to the maid.

Toamnă stood at attention as if she’d only noticed everyone’s gaze on her, stifled the buzz of her wings, adjusted her glasses, and curtsied to her mistress. “By your leave, milady.”

Waving them on, Remilia watched the three misfits file in behind Toamnă, the mermaid helped back into her mobile tub by her lupine friend, rushing to join the others as they left the dining room. If she wasn’t imagining things, she could swear there was the notion of a smile on Toamnă’s lips. Even strangely human-like faeries could be motivated by the promise of sweets and fats, apparently.

Eager to do her part to hurry things along, Remilia glided off to one of the side wings, finding a door marked with a sign reading ‘Emergencies Only!’ She drew a key from her pocket and flung the door open, delighted to immediately lay eyes on her aim: the ‘expedition cart’. The sturdy vehicle was always at the ready, loaded with all the necessities for picking up, fleeing into the wilderness, and generally waiting out angry mobs. There had been little occasion to actually employ it, but Remilia was adamant about it being kept up just in case, and while she wasn’t currently facing any angry mobs, it would work just as well for a camping pack.

She marvelled at the brilliance of her Plan B and unbelted a chest, rummaging to produce the spare hat she kept. The article was a light pink colour, stuffed until it could only be described as ‘poofy’, a bit on the heavy side but excellent for blocking the odd ray of sunlight. Remilia centred it over her head and beamed, feeling the weight of greatness pressing on her cranium. This was a hat fit for a general; bother Patchouli’s remarks on it, the pyjama-wearing excuse for a fashion critic.

After a quick check for the emergency schnapps, and another quick check to make sure it had stayed drinkable — oh, yes, it certainly had — Remilia paused to puzzle the matter of how to move the cart. Appearances would dictate having horses. Unfortunately, horses meant dealing with Priscilla, who was… particular about the animals in spite of their not being her rightful property. She shook her head. No, this could be settled by vampiric strength alone, she decided.

It was only a matter of minutes before Remilia stood in the great hall with the cart, and a few minutes more before Toamnă and the rest returned. Having evidently taken the Scarlet Devil’s offer of free run of the stores to heart, they had become a drifting mountain of goods. She wondered whether or not that should have surprised her.

“Steady… steady!” piped Toamnă from somewhere in the mass. The four of them shifted to one side, keeping the pile upright.

Soon enough, they guided the provisions all the way to the cart, given hasty directions from Toamnă and Remilia, and a cascade of food and gods-only-knew what else poured into the back to test its structural integrity. Remilia peered over the side, noting mostly sweets, slabs of bacon, and packets of cocoa, though actual food did show among the rest. There were even a couple of bottles of wine, albeit nothing of particularly high quality. Remilia mused at how humble one would have to be to only grab the cheap wines in an open cellar. It was a good show of teamwork, at least.

Toamnă fetched a neatly-packed rucksack from the top of the mound and carefully slid down to her feet in front of Remilia, giving yet another curtsy. “Provisions are, erm, acquired, milady.”

“And this is all you’ll require?” Remilia asked, looking around at Sekibanki and her companions.

Sekibanki and Kagerou exchanged looks, shrugged, and looked at the mermaid. Wakasagihime pumped an enthusiastic fist in the air, slapping her tail rapidly.

“Let’s get those dang faeries!” she hollered. Her newfound élan would have been more inspiring if she hadn’t been floating in a tub full of jarred preserves and pickles. Toamnă coughed.

Unperturbed, Remilia put her hands on her hips and smiled a fang-baring smile, ready to take on the world and all its armies of faeries if need be. “Right, then. You two there, open the doors. Adventure waits!”

Two nearby faeries, who had been sparring with broomsticks, hurried to clear the way for their lady. Remilia led the way into the welcoming night air, pulling the cart herself and enjoying the chance to show that it was no trouble for her vampiric strength.

Being greeted by a smiling, dirt-faced Meiling was hardly a surprise, though the sight of a sound asleep Esmerelda clinging to the gatekeeper’s leg did give Remilia momentary pause. Meiling shrugged her shoulders and continued beaming.

Remilia waved an invisible sabre to urge her newfound troops forward while Meiling wrenched the gates open. “Onward!”

“Bye, have fun! Stay safe!” Meiling called after them, waving goodbye.

“Bye! Bye-bye!” Wakasagihime called back, waving with both hands and splashing about until Meiling disappeared from view. Then, she turned around, smiling, and curled her tail, letting her body sink lower in the tub.

“Who was that?”

“Hong Meiling, another faithful servant of mine,” Remilia said proudly. The strain of manual-labour had a strangely uplifting effect on her mood, raising it by yet another notch.

“Is she from the Outside World too?” Kagerou asked, her ears cocked as if trying to point back at Meiling.

“Indeed! She’s from China.”

“Wow, China…” Wakasagihime murmured with awe.

Remilia’s wings gave a happy tremble at the mermaid’s seeming recognition. “You know of it?”

“Nope.”

Remilia blinked. Somehow, she felt, she should have expected that, and yet she was still taken off-guard. For someone who showed an intense dislike of most faeries, Wakasagihime certainly seemed to share their way of thinking. Letting the thought fall off, she fell silent for the first time in the past half-hour and focused on pulling the cart.

After they entered the cover of the trees, Sekibanki worked her way to the front of the line, taking the lead to guide them in the dim moonlight. Toamnă floated behind her, hoisting an oil lantern high to add a little more light.

“Are you from China too?” Wakasagihime asked after a few minutes of silence.

“She’s going to ask a lot of questions,” Kagerou whispered before Remilia could begin to answer.

“Never you mind. I have no problems talking about myself,” Remilia assured the werewolf before looking to the mermaid again. “To answer your question: Of course not. My homeland is Hungary, two continents over. Land of great mountains, fertile fields, and hot springs!”

“Ohhh.” Wakasagihime nodded with a vacant expression. Remilia braced for the follow-up. “What’s a continent?”

“It kind of sounds like Gensokyo. There’s Youkai Mountain past the lake, and there’s lots of hot springs around,” Sekibanki said, turning her head at an uncomfortable angle before adding, “and the fields near the village are pretty fertile. I guess.”

Remilia gave a self-possessed grin. “Well, if I can get a nice bowl of gulyás here, it’ll be just like home.”

“Is Hungary where you used to rule? You mentioned something about that,” Sekibanki pursued. Her head pivoted until it was turned completely backwards, drawing a muted squeak of horror from Toamnă.

“Ohoho-ho! Fellow royalty?” Wakasagihime cut in.

“Indeed, though I didn’t rule over the whole thing. Hungary’s quite large, you see. I was a mere countess, attached to a village around Balassagyarmat.”

Sekibanki looked at Remilia, trying to decide whether or not ‘Balassagyarmat’ was a made-up name.

“Countess? Well, I’m a princess, so I outrank you here! Ow.” Wakasagihime tried to put her hands on her hips, then hit her elbows on the rim of her tub.

“At least I got to bring my mansion with me. Who knows? If things have worked out differently, I might’ve been able to climb higher,” Remilia said with a tense laugh. Then, her voice dropped to a mutter. “If not for those gods-damned Habsburgs.”

Toamnă recovered from her dullahan-induced fright and drifted closer to the others, rushing to change the subject and recover the mood. “How about you three? What do you do to pass the time?”

Wakasagihime’s hand shot up and her fin-ears wiggled, making a squishing noise. She made a point of turning to address Remilia. “I swim. Oh, and lots of shiny rocks end up in the lake. I collect them. There was this really nice purple one I found before before we came over…”

“Erm, yes, very nice. How about you, Kagerou?” Remilia interrupted, feeling that the fish-princess might not stop when started.

Much like her friend’s hand, Kagerou’s ears jumped to attention. “I explore, forage for food, try to find stuff for the camp. All kinds of things fall on the ground.”

“And what sort of stuff, may I ask?”

“Cloth scraps, trinkets, tools… stuff like that, y’know? I have a knack for finding them.” The werewolf wore a self-satisfied look of her own, though it quickly turned into a defensive one when she saw Remilia and Toamnă looking at her. Her ears flattened. “I-I don’t go around attacking humans or eating livestock, though. I just pick up what humans lose or leave behind, you understand? Just minding my business like that. I don’t want to get hit with a rake again.”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t thinking that, my dear. I just thought you look like an excellent scavenger,” Remilia said in a placating tone.

“Oh.” Kagerou’s ears crept back upright. She fiddled with the brooch on her collar, her eyes tracing the ground. A faint blush was visible on her cheeks, even in the darkness. “I don’t think I’m that good, but if you say so.”

Her tail started gently wagging. No, Remilia thought, certainly not the type to attack humans. Even a bleating lamb would be enough to repel someone as prone to timidity as this woman. Of course, correcting that would be part of Remilia’s good deeds.

“Hey… Toamnă, was it? I’m gonna need more light. We’re getting close,” Sekibanki called back, a nervous look on her face. She was likely hoping the journey would end before her turn at speaking.

Reluctantly, Toamnă drew back towards Sekibanki to provide lantern-light. The conversation that Remilia and the rest had been carrying on suddenly tapered off in anticipation of reaching their destination. Bushes seemed to be clustered thicker on the ground now, and they were clearly deep into the woods. Kagerou weaved the princess-bucket between the trees with surprising skill, keeping up with everyone as Sekibanki led them down a slight slope to what had to be their home.

“Egad,” Remilia remarked under her breath.

There was a hut, its walls stitched together from scraps of cloth in all different colours, sizes, and fabrics, held up with stakes — Remilia gave an inward shudder — and poles. A ring of stones marked the campfire area, with bowls and spoons lying around it as if the ground was the only shelf they needed. The rest of their possessions were similarly strewn about, as if they dropped whatever they were using as soon as they were done with it. Looking over it felt like a pastiche of human life, pieced together from second-hand accounts.

Remilia shoved away the nagging voice that said she was one to talk about pieced-together life. It was fine, she thought. Very good, in fact. Her job was easier if she had to start from the very basics, like ‘Don’t leave doors open with faeries nearby.’ She dropped off the cart by their hut as Sekibanki put some branches together for a campfire and Toamnă produced cocoa and a kettle from her rucksack.

Remilia took out a small rug from the other side of the cart and unrolled it, taking her seat by the campfire as it lit up, appreciating the warmth in the cool night.

“Right. We’re well-fed, the night is just beginning, and we’ve got a few minutes while we wait for the cocoa. I do believe it’s time for lesson one.”


[ ] Lesson one: discipline. Get the place cleaned up.
[ ] Lesson one: preparation. Gather information on those dastardly fae.
[ ] Lesson one: reactions. Have Toamnă launch a surprise attack (after cocoa).