Huguenots

Inside the Royal Prison, there were many secluded chambers that the Lord Executioner favoured for using as nests for political intrigue. Out of sight, out of mind, they were ideal locations to discuss important matters... just in case any of those who had an audience with him had to disappear conveniently.

Today, however, his guest was an esteemed member of the Madame's court. Not someone he could dispose of easily, as much as he'd like to. Two individuals were stood off on opposing sides of a table from each other, each illuminated only by a single candelabra.

One was a tall, well-built man with pointed ears and slicked back white hair. He wore a long, dark coat that seemed to blend in with the surrounding darkness and several nooses hung from his studded belt. His most notable feature was a bloodied, black hood of sorts that hung down from around his neck.

The other individual was even taller, but was more beast than man. Something resembling a lycanthrope, the wolfman wore blue and silver finery that made him out to be one of the Highcastes of the Capitol. The formal wear was in stark contrast of his feral expression and long grey hair that was as wild as it was unkempt.

After lingering in silence for a spell the wolfman slammed his clawed hand onto the table, carving into it slightly. "This will not go unaddressed. The captives escaped, but their freedom is limited. No one has ever escaped the Gendarmarie for so long."

"You almost sound like you're praising them." The other man was snide in his tone, clearly trying to rile his beastly companion further. It seemed to have some success as the wolfman now had both claws on the table.

"Never. They escaped from my district, they are those that dare to insult ME. I will have them hunted down." His teeth were bared against the other man, his enmity seething.

"Lotsa big words, big bad wolfy. Just make sure it's all under control, unlike you're temper."

"Don't test me, Jack."

The Lord Executioner snickered a bit, a hand to his chin as he gazed at the wolfman. "So... tell me, Isengrimmus, how's that quarry of yours? Still making a fool outta y-"

CRASH! THUD!

It seemed like this was the trigger that fired off the wolfman's temper, as he suddenly ripped the table in two and seized the Lord Executioner by the throat. His eyes started glowing red as he lifted him off the ground. "Silence. I am not the fool, that fox is the fool for thinking they can allude me! I KNOW where they hide, I CAN hunt them whenever I please. I... WILL feast upon their bones and defecate them back out onto whatever remains! Once I am not caged here like some mere animal!"

"Nngh... hehe... how colorful and poetic... it must be true love~." Despite his current position, the Lord Executioner seemed quite content to hang there. He knew, after all, that Isengrimmus couldn't truly do much to him.

Knowing this was the limit, the wolfman dropped him and turned away to storm out the chamber. "Screw you and your harlot, I'm embarking at once to Oceania to conduct my hunt."

This was the line for the Lord Executioner, however, as there was a sudden metallic thunk against the ground. The door before Isengrimmus closed up in his face, forcing him to halt his departure.

The Lord Executioner's finger wagged through the air. "Ah ah ah, no. You're staying here and cleaning up your mess. Don't leave it to the guards, do it yourself you misguided mutt. You are an esteemed member of the Madame's court, we can't have you meandering off on some romantic escapade." His pale eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. "That would be treason."

"Screw you, Jack. You can't confine me in this debauched hell forever!"

"I never said forever, did I? A dog must go free of its kennel at least once a day. So... lemme entice you with this." Jack stepped into the light some more, leaning onto the shaft of some long metallic instrument. Its head was concealed in the darkness. "Clean up your mess, bring me the prisoners plus their accomplices. Then I might just sweet talk the Madame a bit into letting you off your leash. T'is an offer you can't refuse, surely."

There was a deep, wrathful growling that filled the chamber as Isengrimmus slammed his fist into the wall. It was enough to splinter the dense rock as he shot a dangerous glance towards the Lord Executioner. "They will be mine."

After all, for Isengrimmus... nothing meant more to him than that damned fox.

===

A few days had gone by since Chaldea had arrived in the Capitol. The Gendarmarie had yet to find a trail leading to their whereabouts as they integrated themselves into the everyday life of people in the district of Montmartre. It was an area that sat on the verge of the slums, hence the lack of Highcaste and guard presence.

To ensure that they weren't entirely freeloading off of Blavet, the members of Chaldea had become temporary hires for her patisserie. Even though they were all relatively inexperienced, Blavet apparently made for quite the mentor.

Joining them was the boy they had rescued from before. He had managed to make a full recovery and worked diligently, though he was a quiet sort that didn't speak often to anyone except Blavet.

Marco, with his hair tied back and wearing a flour-stained apron, turned to Ritsuka as he finished loading up an oven with a fresh batch of pastries.

"What was the boy's name again...?"

The Master of Chaldea was in a similar attire, and was a lot sweatier too as he laboriously fashioned row after row of pastries. Marco's question snapped him out of a work trance he had going on, as he blinked and looked to him.

"Oh... Pecloz, I think that's what Blavet said."

"Ah, little Pecloz... he still won't talk to me, and I'm great with kids! They're the best listeners for my stories, but he seems... quite unchild-like."

"Well, the world is quite different here. Plus... he knows about the fate of his parents. I imagine he must still be shaken up by that."

Yet for him to continue working, it was both impressive and sad. The fact that Blavet also persevered through it implied that the way of this world was not to grieve the fallen and to simply work through the struggles that one experiences. It was something Ritsuka struggled to do even now. Chaldea had not fallen, but... he still felt a semblance of survivor's guilt.

He gasped a little as Marco slapped him on the back. "Hey, hey. You have a melancholic expression growing there again. Don't worry. I'm sure the kid will warm up to us in time. And we'll improve this world, right?"

"Y-yeah... of course."

As they chatted, however, Vega strode past them with loaded trays of baked goods in either hand. She stopped and glanced at the two of them in silence. It was the type of stare that a hard worker gives to slackers, as the both of them sighed and returned to work.

"Count on the stickler over there to become addicted to work like this... I became too familiar to the delicious smell already so it's lost its magic." Marco lamented over his loss of passion for this labour as he returned to the ovens.

Regardless of the small quips they had, it was certainly a highlight of their journey so far. Ritsuka found it fulfilling, considering everything until this point. It felt like he could finally breath and collect himself a bit from the rollercoaster.

"No, no, not like that... you have to plait it five times. Six is unlucky. That's what my parents always told me anyway," said Blavet as she swooped in and took Ritsuka's hands, manipulating them to correct his errors in the pastries. He blinked and blushed a little as he just let her do her thing.

"O-oh... my bad, I think I was zoning out a little."

Blavet released his hands and looked into his eyes a bit. "Did you sleep oddly?"

"No, it's not that... just remembering some of my friends."

"Oh yes, yes! Like... Mash, the shield maiden. And Da Vinci, the genius!" She was quite zealous in how she presented them, pumping her fists a little. Ritsuka had told her about some of Chaldea's adventures in spare time.

Without using confusing terms like Singularities or the Incineration of the Human Order... he recounted his adventures across the greenest of pastures and the most vast of oceans. Through a city of magical fog and a holy city in the midst of a desert. Blavet's favourite tale was that of Orleans, perhaps because it resonated with her the most.

"Y'know, I've never seen a wyvern before... nor a dragon. They sound so mighty and powerful... kind of like this, right?" In all her skill with pastries, she had managed to fashion a fairly impressive effigy of a dragon's head out of dough.

Except that it more resembled a cartoony dinosaur of sorts. Ritsuka couldn't help but chuckle at it as Blavet held it out to him.

"W-what? It's exactly like you said! A long nose and jaw, with lots of sharp teeth... though it's really hard to make the teeth sharp with dough... o-oh, and the fierce eyes! Though they'll look better when its baked."

Vega lurked around them again, holding more trays still as she gave them shifty glances. Somehow, even the boss of the place fell under that gaze as she shuddered.

"I-I'll get back to work... but here! Put this in the next batch, Ritsuka. Consider it a small gift~."

"A gift? That's generous of you, after everything you've done for us..."

"Nonsense, you guys are making life here so much more fun! I'm so happy I let you guys stay here." With that, Blavet gave a little wave before she returned to her work. Ritsuka looked at the dough-born dragon head. It really did look like a child's experiment, but... it was charming.

"Eeeeh... I didn't get a gift," remarked Marco as he slinked over, exhibiting some playful jealousy.

"I can make one for you if you'd like. I think..." Ritsuka wasn't really sure if he could replicate this, but it couldn't be the hardest thing in the world. Regardless, he set the dragon head alongside an array of other pastries before Marco took it for baking.

Blavet ran a patisserie called Bon Gateau, the only one of its kind in Montmartre. Because of this, it drew a lot of attention from the struggling denizens. Naturally, she didn't charge anything for the goods and managed to source supplies from the others in town. However, there was only so much she could do by herself.

But now that she had a team to work with her... business was booming. The morale of the district had risen exponentially since now they could operate at typical daily opening hours. With Guillemot on sentry duty to clear out the crowds if the Gendarmarie came too close, the days were busy yet full of merriment.

Once closing time approached, the citizens were cleared out of the patisserie and everyone cleared the kitchen area up. After Vega had changed out of her apron, Guillemot approached her. "Oi. Come out back with me."

"... Affirmative."

Ritsuka watched as the two of them left out of the side door, presumably to head into the alley out back. As he pondered about what they were going to do, he then saw Pecloz heading upstairs by himself. Curious about this, he decided to follow the brown-haired child.

He eventually saw Pecloz preparing to slip into bed, and decided to intervene as he entered the room. "Hey, Pecloz. How's it going?"

The child stopped and looked towards Ritsuka, having been in the middle of peeling covers off the bed. He perched himself on the side of it and just nodded to Ritsuka. "I-I see..." He was still silent and stoic as ever. He could only imagine what was going on through that head of his, but Ritsuka felt that this was wrong. It was wrong for a child to just work hard and then do nothing but sleep. Wrong for them to lack any sort of emotions, because children were honest creatures.

When the honesty was just emptiness, he couldn't just let it be. Thus, Ritsuka approached Pecloz before sitting next to him on the bed. "You worked hard today, harder than I did. That was really impressive."

Another nod of acknowledgement, though this one was slower. Ritsuka scratched his head a little as he leaned back a bit. "I'm not great at that kinda work, I'm more of a hard worker when it comes to... adventures, I guess." Rather than a nod, this seemed to provoke a curious turn of the head as he looked at Ritsuka with bright blue eyes. "Some people back in Chaldea said I must work the hardest, because I'm on the frontlines with Mash and the other Servants. I never really realized how hard I work sometimes, it always took other people to see and tell me that."

A solemn expression emerged on Ritsuka's face, as he stared at the ceiling. "Pecloz, do you know what a dragon is?" He turned to look at the child, who slowly shook his head. It wasn't surprising, but it was still a little sad. "Well... they're these massive monsters, with skin that's riddled with scales as hard as steel. They have huge claws on their hands and massive wings that can block out the sun! They have long snouts, sharp teeth and can breathe burning flames."

Ritsuka looked ridiculous, having spread his arms out and fashioned his hands into claw-like shapes as he gaped his mouth a bit to mimick a dragon's roar. The act, however, seemed to absorb the curious child as Pecloz just watched attentively.

"They're scary monsters that burn down villages and cities! They... ah, they look like this." Ritsuka reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of cloth which he unravelled. Within... was the properly baked dragon's head pastry that Blavet made for him earlier. Now that it had been baked, the features stood out more clearly and it resembled the actual thing. She really was a skillful person. With great curiosity, Pecloz took the pastry dragon and examined it.

"That's what their heads are like, and their bodies are huge with four legs and wings. I had to fight a lot of them in a place not unlike the Capitol here. Including a really nasty, evil one called Fafnir. He was the meanest dragon of all. He was greedy and was led by a maiden of shadows and hatred..."

Just like the story he recited to Blavet from before, he told the tale of Orleans again to Pecloz who seemed entirely invested in it. This story, of course, was embellished with a bit more flair for the sake of invigorating the child's theatre of the mind.

He described the unholy maiden that terrorized France with her draconian army and Servants of madness, as well as the opposing holy maiden that stood against her in defiance.

Then there was the dragon taming saint who communicated with faith and fists. The whimsical musician who could charm the world itself with his melodies.

The nice dragons, as Ritsuka called them. The pink one and the blue one, that somehow found themselves in this war and lended their aid. He sneezed after mentioning them, feeling a chill on his spine, but ultimately decided to continue the story.

And then... there was the legendary dragon slayer, who faced off with his nemesis, the greedy Fafnir. In the end, he prevailed and paved the path for Ritsuka to siege the unholy maiden's stronghold... to put a stop to her and her demented mage, once and for all.

"... and then, we retrieved the Holy Grail, a golden artifact of great power that was the source of their evils. The lands were saved from the draconian tyranny and peace was restored."

Pecloz's eyes were shining as he played his interpretation of the events back in his own little mind. Ritsuka couldn't help but smile, since it was the first time that the kid had brightened up and shown some emotion. He was then surprised as, for the first time, Pecloz spoke up.

"... My... favourite... was the saint! The saint Georgios! He... sounded so cool..." His voice was quiet but piping with excitement. Ritsuka didn't expect for him to pick out Georgios, out of all the heroes he mentioned, but was sure that Georgios would be jubilant to be recognized as such by a youth such as him.

"But... who was the one that Mozart cared for?"

Of the heroes he mentioned... there were two omissions, that he would never tell them about.

The crystalline princess that beguiled all with her radiance.

The executioner who lamented over delivering her sentence.

It pained him to omit them from his tale, but... he wanted this story to be hopeful, one that brightened their spirits with the dreams of another world of brightness. Not one that reminded them of the struggles of home.

Ritsuka smiled solemnly. "Who knows? He was a pretty odd fellow."

After some more small chatter, Pecloz ended up yawning a lot. He had worked hard, so it was natural that he tired out easily. Ritsuka tucked him into bed and wished him goodnight. "R-Ritsuka... can..."

"Yes. I'll tell more of my stories sometime." With that, the kid sleepily nodded and nestled himself into the covers of the bed.

With that, Ritsuka closed the door behind himself, only to be met with Marco leaning against the wall outside. "Hehe... that was impressive, Master. You have learned well."

"O-oh, what makes you say that?"

"That tale you regailed... so full of passion and zeal! I'm so proud of you! Truly, you learn from only the best!" It seems like he accredited himself with Ritsuka's storytelling skills, as he embraced his Master in a brotherly way. Confused, Ritsuka simply returned the hug before Marco broke away from it. "Hmhm~... come with me, Master. Let's talk a little on the balcony." Beckoning Ritsuka to follow him, the two of them wandered down the corridor and out the door into the chill night air...

===

CLANG!

SHING!

PANG!

CLANK!

"Useless." In the darkness of the backalley, Guillemot pushed Vega back with his silver training blade before stancing off against her again. He clutched the weapon with both hands, lurching his body a little bit as he held it almost horizontally. "You lack any sort of skill, you're performing imitations because you're not adapting to my movements."

"..." Vega had no response to give as she attempted another attack, her own sword gleaming in the moonlight. It was easily parried. Rather than any sort of follow up, Vega just followed through with the deflected blade as Guillemot seized the opportunity.

"Weak!" His hilt struck against Vega's hand, causing her to drop her own weapon. She was left defenseless as he poised the weapon towards her face. "Dead. Game over." The weapon was lowered and Guillemot backstepped away from her. "That's the fifth time. Do you learn nothing from this?"

"Goals of training regime are unclear. Methods ineffective."

"Tch. Of course you'd say that..." He tossed the weapon aside out of frustration, turned away from her. "I dunno why, but I tried. You're hopeless."

The two had been sparring for half an hour, without any sort of progress on Vega's side. For some reason, Guillemot presumed that he could teach her a thing or two about realistic swordplay. Yet... it bore no fruits. She was still imitating and it didn't even seem like she was trying to learn.

It was hard for him to discern whether it was because of her inability or his own lack of worth as a mentor. Likely a bit of both, as he sighed loudly with fingers pressed to his temple. "We're done. Just wasting at time at this point. Now leave me alone, I need a drink or somethin'..."

In silence, Vega started to make her way back to the building as the training weapons dissipated into the air. However, she stopped just shy of the side door before looking back at him. "Thank you, Guillemot."

"Don't thank me for nothing, useless girl."

"You misunderstand." Vega gazed at him as she turned fully. "Your actions have granted this unit insight into potential action that the Master of Chaldea can use to increase odds of operational success. For this, I thank you."

Leaving Guillemot thoroughly confused, Vega re-entered the building and marched upstairs to seek out Ritsuka.

===

After chatting about their day and grievances (mostly those of Marco), it was then that the traveller moved onto the prime matter on his mind. As he leaned on the railing of the balcony, he looked to Ritsuka with his jade eyes.

"This world has no imagination, nothing to fuel it." He almost sounded sad when he said those words, his expression complicated. Ritsuka had seldom seen Marco seriously perturbed by something in this world until this point. When it wasn't striking fear into him, that is. "The expressions of Blavet and Pecloz do not lie. Our stories awaken and ignite their imaginations. Which shows that we are the sole catalysts of such in this world. Nothing until now has struck their fancies so much."

He was correct. Ritsuka wasn't much of a storyteller but the two denizens of this city were so invested in his tales that they made him out to be a chronicler of the ages. Blavet showed much of the same amazement to Marco's tales too.

"She especially enjoyed the one about the floating temple in the desert. Blavet didn't even know what a desert was, so I called it an ocean of sand... then she asked what sand was. It's painful. I'm a storyteller, not a dictionary."

"I don't think that's the key issue here..."

"Of course not but I like to whine, okay? If the Khan were here, he'd turn this place over in a single night."

He mentioned the Khan again. Ritsuka roughly knew that Marco Polo served the ruler known as Kublai Khan, but he didn't know much about the ruler himself. "Say... the Khan, Kublai Khan."

"Yes, yes! You said his name! Or well, almost! That's Great Kublai Khan to you! He is the most radiant ruler of the Mongol Empire next to the great Chingghis Khan himself! The true leader of the Golden Horde! The keeper of Xanadu!" Marco's zeal was explosive at the mere mention of the name, much to Ritsuka's surprise. It seemed... unusual, actually. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, though.

"I don't actually know much about him, could you teach me?"

At that, Marco's jaw dropped as if Ritsuka had just committed the greatest blasphemy. Before he seemed like he'd break out into an entire tangent about him, however, he seemed to stop himself as he gazed off into the night sky.

"... Marco?"

"Hmmm... I'm not quite feeling it tonight, the tiredness just set in. Please, let me tell you another time. I'd be overjoyed to sit down and bestow upon you the splendour of the Great Kublai Khan's legend." He flashed a genuine smile as he looked at Ritsuka again. Whatever just happened, it seemed to leave him in a good mood.

Before the confused Ritsuka could ask any further questions, the door to the balcony swung open. The two of them looked to see Vega coming out to greet them.

Marco scowled a little bit. "To what do we owe the pleasure of such a visit on this fine, undisturbed evening? Are you perhaps here to give us a detailed report on how to improve the spatial efficiency of our baking trays?"

"Negative. Master of Chaldea, Ritsuka."

Ritsuka stood to attention almost instinctively. "Y-yes, Vega?"

"I would like to propose a course of action, Master of Chaldea. By utilizing leylines present in the geography of the Malgenesis, additional Chaldea summoning rituals may be conducted. Please consider this option for it would supplement our forces further."

Ritsuka gulped a little as he looked to Marco, then back at Vega with determination. "If... if it will really work, then all we can do is try. Let's do it."

The rest of the night was spent with Vega giving detailed explanations of recreating the summoning ritual in Cadens Weft... as well as seminars on proper pastry chef etiquette.