The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer
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Very nice
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- Argentina
Ah the Oracle is a Dragon.
Chapter 303: Shades Of Red
There were things which lived in the dark places in the world, and things which made the world dark.
This creature was both of them.
An overseer from the abyss.
Monsters as famed as they were cruel. Even the most foolhardy of adventurers keen to enshrine themselves in the swelling history book of deserved ways to perish would see the lidless eye and flee like the robbers they were.
For if any were to be struck by the disintegrating light conjured by its very gaze, not even the treasure they'd worked so hard to loot from my family's tombs would survive.
I could only step back in horror.
Wide enough to fill the cavern with its shadow, here was a thing so gruesome that no time could be spared on ushering it away.
Instead, every fibre of my being was spent on ensuring I wore the correct look of terror.
Yet as the visage of death floated before me, it was more than the pulsing eye, the crawling tendrils or the serrated fangs which drew my attention.
It was the drool.
I gasped at the sight … for I'd never seen my life so imperilled!
The way its tongue flopped in defiance of oral posture! The way its jaw manoeuvred to encourage saliva!
Why, here was something matched only by the poodles sent to test the defences of the Royal Villa's plate cabinets!
I glanced down at the growing puddle mere inches from my boots.
Had it touched my soles, I'd need to step on the rest of my foes barefoot. I couldn't do that. My foot was a national treasure. Direct contact with the backs of hoodlums was a far worse punishment for me than it was for my adversaries.
And if that drool had landed on my clothes or my hair …
I shuddered as I reached for Coppelia's arm.
Indeed, I could trust in my loyal handmaiden's defence!
Both her clothes and her body were far more durable than mine … which is why knowing the threat I faced, she didn't hesitate as she sprung on the spot, determination written upon her face.
And then–
She poked one of the flailing tendrils.
"Uwaaah!~" Coppelia turned to me at once, excitement lighting up her face as she repeatedly prodded the monster's appendages. "This! Is! Amazing! It's so smooth! Weird … but smooth! You should touch it!"
"C-Coppelia!" I said, utterly horrified as a disgusting tendril was conveniently lowered for my benefit. "This is not a plaything to be prodded and poked! It is a monster from the abyss! A creature born of malice and evil! There is no scenario in which I would even consider … it's so smooth?!"
"I know, right?! It's a completely new feeling!"
By sheer accident, the tip of my boot poked a glossy tendril.
I was utterly shocked.
Why, there was no friction whatsoever! It was like the surface of a pond, sleek enough to make glass silk appear as coarse as dried sand! If such a material could be harvested, it would be sold at a premium!
As I thought this, a giggle resounded.
"I look after my tendrils," came the voice of the maiden who was no longer there. It filled my mind as much as the cavern, echoing from surface to surface. "Others consider it superfluous. But when meeting new faces, no detail should be left unattended. If I can see a blemish with one eye, I'm certain others can see it with two."
I nodded in agreement … all the while leaning away.
"A very reasonable opinion, of which more could stand to share in. Not least those of your kind. Why, I was actually taken to understand that overseers were supposed to be more … ?"
"Wrinkly? Oh, yes. You should see the state of my cousins. Each of them with an eye bag darker than the next. Well, not me. Can you guess how old I am?"
"500 years!" said Coppelia.
The hue of the overseer's skin turned a shade of radish.
"Oh my. That's quite the compliment. I'm actually touching seven centuries myself, although I still say I'm closer to six." The floating eyeball nudged its chin towards the basin of water. "My secret, small as it is. I make sure to thoroughly bathe twice a day and night. Nothing beats a daily routine."
I peered at the body of water with renewed interest. Steam faintly rose from within, although it offered little in the way of bubbles or scent.
"I see no hint of soap. Something naturally in the water, I take it?"
"Quite so. The water is drawn from fissures beneath the mountain, infused with centuries of cleansing minerals and warm enough to soothe the fiercest of wrinkles without scalding. If I may boast a little, my age is actually frequently mistaken. I owe it all to this. My bath is my pride and joy, as it should be for all to possess one."
For a moment, I acknowledged the floating horror for the only sentiment I could agree with.
A naturally warming bath was a delight I was amiss to have never considered before. Once I returned to the Royal Villa, I'd see about discreetly having a deep enough hole dug beneath a guest room.
Assuming, of course, that I could navigate past the growing puddle before me.
Thus, I offered a polite smile to match the one before me. That it came with serrated fangs was irrelevant. After all, I was already used to the royal capital's nobility.
"Excuse me … but are you the Bewitching Oracle?"
"I am, yes." The eyeball bounced on the spot. A nod. "And goodness, what a pleasure it is to greet you, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea. How far you've come. I regret the lack of welcome. My sanctum makes for a poor impression compared to your kingdom. I'm sad to have never visited. It's quite famous."
I raised a brow, my interest piqued as I utterly ignored Coppelia's sudden coughing fit.
"Oh? Truly now? And what is it especially famed for in Ouzelia?"
"The rolling hills, the vibrant meadows, the distant mountains and all the fair things in between, of course."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"Why, those are my thoughts exactly!" I paused. "... Those are my thoughts, aren't they?"
"Yes."
I gasped in horror. And then I planted my palm on my forehead. My mind was strictly off-limits!
"I'm very sorry. It's a natural side effect of my kind. We always hear the shallowest musings of living creatures like a din, just as you would the murmurings in tavern corners. And since there's no crowd to take away my attention, I cannot help but hear. Even so, I shall try to respect your privacy."
The tongue flopped to the other side of the horror's jaw.
The dribbling was now several more inches away. A courtesy I expected about as much as not immediately facing a ray of pure energy.
"Yes, well … that is very much appreciated, Miss Bewitching Oracle. Indeed, it's certainly a unique experience to entertain conversation with an overseer from the abyss. So much so that I wonder why you would form a cult or steal a dragon."
"You wonder because it's very unlikely. And you're right to. It's true I've both attributed to my name, but I can assure you I've no wish for a single tendril in either ploy. That would be the doing of my jailor."
My mouth widened in disbelief.
"Your jailor? … Are you saying there's a bigger overseer here?"
"A bigger overseer would be less of a problem. Despite popular and accurate views on our evil nature, we are also quite familial. No, my jailor is far more problematic than those of my kind. Which is why although I rule the smiles of those who visit me, I do not rule even my own bathtub. I am a prisoner."
Suddenly, the wisps of dusk which crept through the gaps in the wall darkened. And what replaced them were a hundred incense candles lighting as if ushered to life by a sweep of a flaming brand.
The corners of the cavern were revealed.
As was the band of shadow which faintly enveloped the overseer's form.
Immediately, the monstrous eyeball floated towards the door. It gained only a handful of paces in its direction before an ethereal chain appeared, sending it back into the cavern with a violent tug.
Its smile was undiminished.
"As you can see, I hope we can help each other. You and I both seek the same thing."
"I've no doubt we do. There are finer baths than this still waiting to be found. But I also seek a dragon."
"You do. But you also seek to return home. As do I. We are both innocents in someone else's scheme. We have a shared foe. And to that, I would offer my assistance."
"Is that so? Goodness, it must be quite the adversary to imprison an overseer from the abyss."
"It is and it isn't. Despite all that I am, confrontational is not one of them. I was captured after I came here to experience the joy of these waters. It's both a mark of my jailer's black humour and efficiency that I'm chained where I'd sought to be reinvigorated. Now, I can claim no excuse for not seeing out the part I've been asked to play."
I raised a brow.
"A non-confrontational overseer. How curious. And what part, may I ask, is such a rare specimen asked to play other than sending your competitors into the arms of cheese and financial ruin?"
The overseer's smile broadened.
A thousand fangs glinted in the candlelight. A grotesque sight beaten only by the common smiles of anyone found behind the reception desk of an adventurer's guild.
"You wish for answers. I'll give you more than that. I'll tell you everything you need to know to end your harrowing quest in Ouzelia. I'll tell you where your missing dragon is. I'll tell you about my jailer. And crucially, I'll provide the means to reach them both. I may be personable, but they are not. Both are hidden away amidst an endless labyrinth within this mountain, deep enough to put minotaurs to shame. Help me and I will help you."
I gave a curt nod.
"A proposition targeted unsubtly towards my obvious wishes. Yet while I admire your dedication to hygiene, I also intend to leave Ouzelia with little more than a tiny footprint. A cult in my name and no more. Regrettably, I lack the time to deal with the repercussions of releasing an overseer into the world."
"There would be no repercussions. Far from it, I only seek to return home and enjoy a well earned respite where none can disturb my own mind. Perhaps after a century, I might venture out to explore the nuances of civilisation."
"I see … and is that when you might begin murdering everyone?"
A laugh born of warmth and cordiality greeted me, as though I'd shared a jest with an old friend.
"There's little to risk of that, even should such an admission horrify my peers. Unlike them, my imprisonment has allowed me an opportunity to see things from a different perspective. A rare thing with one eye. But I see many benefits in cultivating friendship with humans. To be the first of my kind to do so. And for your assistance, your kingdom would secure a powerful ally."
I offered a generous hum.
"That is the worst lie I've heard since Coppelia last claimed that my horse ate the only non-squished hazelnut croissant I was saving."
The clockwork doll in question whistled innocently to the side, all the while playing with the flames of an incense candle.
"It is no lie. Despite my imprisonment, I've enjoyed my time dispensing wisdom, for I have learned much in turn from those who sought my guidance."
I pointed to the side. Beyond a door locked against my exit.
"There is a gathering of nobility there. What guidance could they possibly want, other than which cliffs are discreet enough to push a wealthy uncle off, but also popular enough for the body to be accidentally discovered before it's pecked apart by blood ravens?"
"Our conversations are often very enlightening. It's not always about matters of ambition."
"Please. If they allowed themselves to speak about anything else, they'd already be deposed."
The overseer's smile remained fixed. A stillness which gave away the truth more than any admission.
"That's not true. We sometimes speak about the intricacies of different vest buttons."
"Yes. And how best to clean the little niggles of blood that constantly gets on them."
I waved away the coming reply.
"No, there is simply zero scenarios in which one could listen to the drivel of nobility and not wish to go on a murder spree afterwards. I do not blame you for such a desire. On the contrary, I am fully sympathetic. However, the complaints my diplomats would receive afterwards would drown them beneath the heavy workload they are already faced with. I cannot in good conscience further their suffering."
The floating eyeball almost seemed to deflate.
"That's a shame. I still hope to change your mind."
"You cannot. But I'm nothing if not kind, so allow me to make a counter offer. Point a tendril roughly to where I need to go, and I will at least elevate your bathing experience by exporting the most premium bars of soap I have available for your consideration. I guarantee it will be an eye opening experience."
"Thank you. But I'd prefer to experience the soap at a time and place of my own choosing. And so I will proposition the clockwork doll, whose weapon it is that I require to break the particular nature of these–"
"Nah."
Coppelia answered alongside a flick of her hand without looking.
The creature tilted its head slightly.
"You've yet to hear my offer. It's more than directions I can give. Even a dragon's hoard is little compared to my own, amassed over centuries and stored where no sun can fade them."
"Yeah, but if you go free, the big guy will bonk me on the head."
A moment of silence passed.
"Ah. Even after all this time. It is one thing to hear one's thoughts and another to comprehend them. I speak truly when I say I've much to learn. But very well. I shall table an improved offer."
The smile broadened.
And then–
The creature's blackened pupil turned crimson, matching the rest of its eye.
This creature was both of them.
An overseer from the abyss.
Monsters as famed as they were cruel. Even the most foolhardy of adventurers keen to enshrine themselves in the swelling history book of deserved ways to perish would see the lidless eye and flee like the robbers they were.
For if any were to be struck by the disintegrating light conjured by its very gaze, not even the treasure they'd worked so hard to loot from my family's tombs would survive.
I could only step back in horror.
Wide enough to fill the cavern with its shadow, here was a thing so gruesome that no time could be spared on ushering it away.
Instead, every fibre of my being was spent on ensuring I wore the correct look of terror.
Yet as the visage of death floated before me, it was more than the pulsing eye, the crawling tendrils or the serrated fangs which drew my attention.
It was the drool.
I gasped at the sight … for I'd never seen my life so imperilled!
The way its tongue flopped in defiance of oral posture! The way its jaw manoeuvred to encourage saliva!
Why, here was something matched only by the poodles sent to test the defences of the Royal Villa's plate cabinets!
I glanced down at the growing puddle mere inches from my boots.
Had it touched my soles, I'd need to step on the rest of my foes barefoot. I couldn't do that. My foot was a national treasure. Direct contact with the backs of hoodlums was a far worse punishment for me than it was for my adversaries.
And if that drool had landed on my clothes or my hair …
I shuddered as I reached for Coppelia's arm.
Indeed, I could trust in my loyal handmaiden's defence!
Both her clothes and her body were far more durable than mine … which is why knowing the threat I faced, she didn't hesitate as she sprung on the spot, determination written upon her face.
And then–
She poked one of the flailing tendrils.
"Uwaaah!~" Coppelia turned to me at once, excitement lighting up her face as she repeatedly prodded the monster's appendages. "This! Is! Amazing! It's so smooth! Weird … but smooth! You should touch it!"
"C-Coppelia!" I said, utterly horrified as a disgusting tendril was conveniently lowered for my benefit. "This is not a plaything to be prodded and poked! It is a monster from the abyss! A creature born of malice and evil! There is no scenario in which I would even consider … it's so smooth?!"
"I know, right?! It's a completely new feeling!"
By sheer accident, the tip of my boot poked a glossy tendril.
I was utterly shocked.
Why, there was no friction whatsoever! It was like the surface of a pond, sleek enough to make glass silk appear as coarse as dried sand! If such a material could be harvested, it would be sold at a premium!
As I thought this, a giggle resounded.
"I look after my tendrils," came the voice of the maiden who was no longer there. It filled my mind as much as the cavern, echoing from surface to surface. "Others consider it superfluous. But when meeting new faces, no detail should be left unattended. If I can see a blemish with one eye, I'm certain others can see it with two."
I nodded in agreement … all the while leaning away.
"A very reasonable opinion, of which more could stand to share in. Not least those of your kind. Why, I was actually taken to understand that overseers were supposed to be more … ?"
"Wrinkly? Oh, yes. You should see the state of my cousins. Each of them with an eye bag darker than the next. Well, not me. Can you guess how old I am?"
"500 years!" said Coppelia.
The hue of the overseer's skin turned a shade of radish.
"Oh my. That's quite the compliment. I'm actually touching seven centuries myself, although I still say I'm closer to six." The floating eyeball nudged its chin towards the basin of water. "My secret, small as it is. I make sure to thoroughly bathe twice a day and night. Nothing beats a daily routine."
I peered at the body of water with renewed interest. Steam faintly rose from within, although it offered little in the way of bubbles or scent.
"I see no hint of soap. Something naturally in the water, I take it?"
"Quite so. The water is drawn from fissures beneath the mountain, infused with centuries of cleansing minerals and warm enough to soothe the fiercest of wrinkles without scalding. If I may boast a little, my age is actually frequently mistaken. I owe it all to this. My bath is my pride and joy, as it should be for all to possess one."
For a moment, I acknowledged the floating horror for the only sentiment I could agree with.
A naturally warming bath was a delight I was amiss to have never considered before. Once I returned to the Royal Villa, I'd see about discreetly having a deep enough hole dug beneath a guest room.
Assuming, of course, that I could navigate past the growing puddle before me.
Thus, I offered a polite smile to match the one before me. That it came with serrated fangs was irrelevant. After all, I was already used to the royal capital's nobility.
"Excuse me … but are you the Bewitching Oracle?"
"I am, yes." The eyeball bounced on the spot. A nod. "And goodness, what a pleasure it is to greet you, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea. How far you've come. I regret the lack of welcome. My sanctum makes for a poor impression compared to your kingdom. I'm sad to have never visited. It's quite famous."
I raised a brow, my interest piqued as I utterly ignored Coppelia's sudden coughing fit.
"Oh? Truly now? And what is it especially famed for in Ouzelia?"
"The rolling hills, the vibrant meadows, the distant mountains and all the fair things in between, of course."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"Why, those are my thoughts exactly!" I paused. "... Those are my thoughts, aren't they?"
"Yes."
I gasped in horror. And then I planted my palm on my forehead. My mind was strictly off-limits!
"I'm very sorry. It's a natural side effect of my kind. We always hear the shallowest musings of living creatures like a din, just as you would the murmurings in tavern corners. And since there's no crowd to take away my attention, I cannot help but hear. Even so, I shall try to respect your privacy."
The tongue flopped to the other side of the horror's jaw.
The dribbling was now several more inches away. A courtesy I expected about as much as not immediately facing a ray of pure energy.
"Yes, well … that is very much appreciated, Miss Bewitching Oracle. Indeed, it's certainly a unique experience to entertain conversation with an overseer from the abyss. So much so that I wonder why you would form a cult or steal a dragon."
"You wonder because it's very unlikely. And you're right to. It's true I've both attributed to my name, but I can assure you I've no wish for a single tendril in either ploy. That would be the doing of my jailor."
My mouth widened in disbelief.
"Your jailor? … Are you saying there's a bigger overseer here?"
"A bigger overseer would be less of a problem. Despite popular and accurate views on our evil nature, we are also quite familial. No, my jailor is far more problematic than those of my kind. Which is why although I rule the smiles of those who visit me, I do not rule even my own bathtub. I am a prisoner."
Suddenly, the wisps of dusk which crept through the gaps in the wall darkened. And what replaced them were a hundred incense candles lighting as if ushered to life by a sweep of a flaming brand.
The corners of the cavern were revealed.
As was the band of shadow which faintly enveloped the overseer's form.
Immediately, the monstrous eyeball floated towards the door. It gained only a handful of paces in its direction before an ethereal chain appeared, sending it back into the cavern with a violent tug.
Its smile was undiminished.
"As you can see, I hope we can help each other. You and I both seek the same thing."
"I've no doubt we do. There are finer baths than this still waiting to be found. But I also seek a dragon."
"You do. But you also seek to return home. As do I. We are both innocents in someone else's scheme. We have a shared foe. And to that, I would offer my assistance."
"Is that so? Goodness, it must be quite the adversary to imprison an overseer from the abyss."
"It is and it isn't. Despite all that I am, confrontational is not one of them. I was captured after I came here to experience the joy of these waters. It's both a mark of my jailer's black humour and efficiency that I'm chained where I'd sought to be reinvigorated. Now, I can claim no excuse for not seeing out the part I've been asked to play."
I raised a brow.
"A non-confrontational overseer. How curious. And what part, may I ask, is such a rare specimen asked to play other than sending your competitors into the arms of cheese and financial ruin?"
The overseer's smile broadened.
A thousand fangs glinted in the candlelight. A grotesque sight beaten only by the common smiles of anyone found behind the reception desk of an adventurer's guild.
"You wish for answers. I'll give you more than that. I'll tell you everything you need to know to end your harrowing quest in Ouzelia. I'll tell you where your missing dragon is. I'll tell you about my jailer. And crucially, I'll provide the means to reach them both. I may be personable, but they are not. Both are hidden away amidst an endless labyrinth within this mountain, deep enough to put minotaurs to shame. Help me and I will help you."
I gave a curt nod.
"A proposition targeted unsubtly towards my obvious wishes. Yet while I admire your dedication to hygiene, I also intend to leave Ouzelia with little more than a tiny footprint. A cult in my name and no more. Regrettably, I lack the time to deal with the repercussions of releasing an overseer into the world."
"There would be no repercussions. Far from it, I only seek to return home and enjoy a well earned respite where none can disturb my own mind. Perhaps after a century, I might venture out to explore the nuances of civilisation."
"I see … and is that when you might begin murdering everyone?"
A laugh born of warmth and cordiality greeted me, as though I'd shared a jest with an old friend.
"There's little to risk of that, even should such an admission horrify my peers. Unlike them, my imprisonment has allowed me an opportunity to see things from a different perspective. A rare thing with one eye. But I see many benefits in cultivating friendship with humans. To be the first of my kind to do so. And for your assistance, your kingdom would secure a powerful ally."
I offered a generous hum.
"That is the worst lie I've heard since Coppelia last claimed that my horse ate the only non-squished hazelnut croissant I was saving."
The clockwork doll in question whistled innocently to the side, all the while playing with the flames of an incense candle.
"It is no lie. Despite my imprisonment, I've enjoyed my time dispensing wisdom, for I have learned much in turn from those who sought my guidance."
I pointed to the side. Beyond a door locked against my exit.
"There is a gathering of nobility there. What guidance could they possibly want, other than which cliffs are discreet enough to push a wealthy uncle off, but also popular enough for the body to be accidentally discovered before it's pecked apart by blood ravens?"
"Our conversations are often very enlightening. It's not always about matters of ambition."
"Please. If they allowed themselves to speak about anything else, they'd already be deposed."
The overseer's smile remained fixed. A stillness which gave away the truth more than any admission.
"That's not true. We sometimes speak about the intricacies of different vest buttons."
"Yes. And how best to clean the little niggles of blood that constantly gets on them."
I waved away the coming reply.
"No, there is simply zero scenarios in which one could listen to the drivel of nobility and not wish to go on a murder spree afterwards. I do not blame you for such a desire. On the contrary, I am fully sympathetic. However, the complaints my diplomats would receive afterwards would drown them beneath the heavy workload they are already faced with. I cannot in good conscience further their suffering."
The floating eyeball almost seemed to deflate.
"That's a shame. I still hope to change your mind."
"You cannot. But I'm nothing if not kind, so allow me to make a counter offer. Point a tendril roughly to where I need to go, and I will at least elevate your bathing experience by exporting the most premium bars of soap I have available for your consideration. I guarantee it will be an eye opening experience."
"Thank you. But I'd prefer to experience the soap at a time and place of my own choosing. And so I will proposition the clockwork doll, whose weapon it is that I require to break the particular nature of these–"
"Nah."
Coppelia answered alongside a flick of her hand without looking.
The creature tilted its head slightly.
"You've yet to hear my offer. It's more than directions I can give. Even a dragon's hoard is little compared to my own, amassed over centuries and stored where no sun can fade them."
"Yeah, but if you go free, the big guy will bonk me on the head."
A moment of silence passed.
"Ah. Even after all this time. It is one thing to hear one's thoughts and another to comprehend them. I speak truly when I say I've much to learn. But very well. I shall table an improved offer."
The smile broadened.
And then–
The creature's blackened pupil turned crimson, matching the rest of its eye.
Last edited:
- Location
- Argentina
I don't think you can mind control a clockwork doll without a type of control machines magic?
Coppelia has her own ruleset ... !
- Location
- Argentina
It is common enough in several settings you need a machine something magic to control machines, unless they have like an organic brain.
- Pronouns
- It
The heck are you talking about? It's magic. To add rules and restrictions to it makes it a science. Thus magic can do anything.
In more practical terms its authors choice.
So...
- Location
- Argentina
If magic has no rules and restrictions it makes for a very poor world building.
Chapter 304: An Eye For An Eye
When I woke up this morning, I had plans.
They were all the same thing. Go rescue a dragon. A plan so simple only an adventurer could fail to follow it as they were distracted by a cat lounging on a window. It wasn't like brushing my hair. That was a task so intricate training began before I was born.
Instead, I had to contend with this.
A giant floating eyeball.
Now, its entire hue was so red and blotchy it either suffered insomnia beneath the ceilings of common inns or it was simply overly enamoured with me.
Sadly, my instincts for these things told me it was the latter. But while I was all too familiar with the gawks of my admirers, the only thing that usually destroyed was my appetite.
Seeing the speckles of light pulled towards the crimson iris like the loose socks which didn't exist towards my maids, I had no doubt this enthusiast intended to do more than harass me from a distance.
A constant puddle seeped from its jaws.
It was ghastly. And if I had to choose between disintegration from its eye or a single drop from its drool, I would opt for the least painful option for my attire.
Neither.
That's why–
"Absolutely not!!"
Starlight Grace left my side, ushering away the shadows cast by the flickering candles.
Clap.
A moment later, the illumination diminished as Coppelia's scythe joined me to a flash of darkness. Yet even when my fabled sword saw its light dimmed, that eerie glow from the eye remained.
In fact … it only grew brighter.
BRWEEEEEEEEM.
The next moment, all I felt was regret.
Not because a fiery ray of eyeball death successfully turned me into ashes.
After all, that'd be a relief.
"–Hiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"
No … instead, I was forced to bear the terrible burden of knowing that each second I remained conscious was another I had to endure this land of philandering heroes, maddened cheesemongers and floating eyeballs trying to murder me with streams of concentrated death.
And the worst thing?
Why, that was the knowledge the worst was still yet to come.
BRWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.
Despair was all I saw as I soared through the air as Coppelia's newest flag.
My hair trailed magnificently behind me as the nimble clockwork doll skipped from pillar to pillar. Not to hide behind. But simply to see them shatter.
"Ahahahahahahahah!"
Because amidst the pillars of stone bursting into a thousand fragments as a ray of destruction followed in our wake, the most disconcerting sound was the excited laughter of my loyal handmaiden as she fulfilled the foremost agenda on her bucket list.
Escaping consecutive explosions.
"Wooooooooooo! This is what I've missed most!"
I had nothing for her but a delicate groan, barely discernible amidst the mysterious screaming as she tugged me along with a single hand. But it wasn't without reason that she offered me all the grace of dragging home an errant child.
After all, her other hand was occupied.
Temporarily, at least.
"[Coppelia Throw]!"
As she bounded in the air, the cadence of shattering pillars came to a pause.
It was all she needed.
Hurling her cumbersome weapon as easily as a dry strudel, it flew with unerring precision towards the floating horror. Yet far from raising its tendrils to be cleaved, the overseer's crimson eye flashed violet towards the oncoming scythe.
It slowed, weighed down by an invisible hand.
Enough for the horror to tilt ever so slightly, presenting its shadowed bindings to be severed.
It never made it. The scythe vanished into wisps of dark smoke, before reappearing once more in Coppelia's hand just as she landed with feline grace.
"Oooh~ that was sneaky … I liked that!"
Coppelia offered a generous nod.
She was the only one. I was aghast at the horror's audacity.
Why, not only was the thing trying to incinerate us, but it was also trying to seek freedom! This was not complicated! It was one or the other, not both at the same time!
"H-How dare you!" I said, fixing my hair before raising my sword. "You are supposed to make your threat and then fail to kill us! Do you think being an eyeball excuses you from common decorum?! I hope those seeking your wisdom didn't look to you for conversation advice! How am I supposed to reject your ultimatum if I'm dead?!"
Dust filled the cavern, so thick that neither the candlelight nor the petering rays of dusk could break through. Even so, it did little to hide the overseer's lidless eye or its unfading smile.
"Hehehe."
It did even less to hide the gentle laughter.
Or rather, the impression of gentle laughter.
I did not need to read its mind to know there was as much genuineness to be found in its words as in an alleyway market in Reitzlake.
"In my experience of negotiation, a statement of intent is beneficial, as well as a demonstration of one's position."
"You are chained in a bathroom. That is your position."
The overseer raised its chin slightly.
"This isn't a bathroom," came the response, coupled with a whiff of indignation. "This is a web. But I am no spider seeking a meal, so I reiterate my offer of untold riches to the clockwork doll with an added amendment. Break my shackles and your destruction will be avoided. Rest assured, I desire nothing else than to immediately take to darker pastures where I can rid my mind of every shallow thought I've been forced to endure."
I scoffed while waving away the dust.
The shallowest thought was the belief Coppelia would countenance the idea of doing more than turning her nose up. Particularly as untold riches were already guaranteed to her as my loyal handmaiden.
"Incidentally, the amount I have available far exceeds a handmaiden's salary."
My mouth widened in horror.
"E-Excuse me! Are you trying to undermine the generous salary Coppelia is guaranteed?!"
"There's nothing to undermine. While a handmaiden's salary is comfortable, it's hardly the amount you believe it to be. My gratitude, on the other hand, comes with wealth the likes of which would cause your eyes to weep."
"An outrageous claim," I declared at once. "I've no idea which petty princess you compare me to, but my personal entourage receives bonuses directly related to the number of explosions I'm carried away from. You have directly contributed to this."
"I could directly contribute for a day and night. My wealth still exceeds yours."
"Words as true from your mouth as they are from a drunken peddler. There is no scenario in which an eyeball with no need of gold would possess more than me. How would you even attain it without adventurers flinging their belongings at you?"
"I have been the Bewitching Oracle long before I was forced into the role, if in another name and in another guise. And those seeking advice are those seeking to pay for it. Break my shackles and my wealth is yours to find."
"And how, exactly, would we find your scraps and copper crowns?"
"By following a glint in the dark which only 417,486 gold crowns can make."
My eyes blinked, despite my ears that I was uncertain about.
"Excuse me? How many was that?"
"417,486 gold crowns–as of my last count. Raw value, not including trinkets or items."
I paused for a moment.
Then, I turned to my handmaiden, who was rightfully basking with a bemused smile under the attention of so many promises of wealth despite the lack of any written guarantees.
"Per … Perhaps a compromise solution where we can have the gold and only partially release the horror under supervision could be done?"
"Eeehh?! Now you're convinced?!"
"It would only be for a day or two! Even a brief stroll through Ouzelia is surely enough to permanently dispel the curiosity of ever wishing to explore the outside world again!"
The overseer laughed.
"I have already offered my compromise. All that is left is the alternative."
All of a sudden, the creature's eye flashed to an acid green.
But no warning stream of incineration met us this time. A thump like the sound of a heartbeat filled the air instead.
I sensed Coppelia's legs shift as she sought to leap away.
She didn't.
In fact … she didn't move at all.
Her cheeks puffed out. The only motion as her arms and legs visibly quivered. Yet try as she might, it was like she was weighed down by my quadruple layer winter duvet.
Even the dust itself had come to a pause before the horror's gaze.
"It is over. The web is complete. But you needn't meet your dooms just yet. Clockwork doll, I will ease your release, whereupon you shall do as I bid. If you fail, I will immediately destroy you both and wait until my imprisonment ends or another with a suitable weapon arrives. Agree now and your safety will be … will be …"
The voice, spoken with such expert disregard, trailed into silence.
Instead, its lone eye grew larger … watching as I pinched Coppelia's cheeks.
"Ahahaha~ that tickles."
Only Coppelia's lips moved as she giggled.
Utterly still, she was at the mercy of my delicate handling as I offered her my healing touch. Repeatedly. In her soft, pliable cheeks. Poke, poke, poke.
For a moment, tranquillity entered my mind as the echoing of the intruder ceased.
It lasted far too short.
"You should not be moving." The voice was stunned. A curious thing for something which could peer into minds. "You are in my holding gaze."
"... Oh?" I idly turned from Coppelia and looked up. "And why should that matter?"
"You're no heroine of Ouzelia. You don't have the protection of providence offered by their calling."
"Ohohoho … providence?"
At once, I raised a hand to my lips, twirling with needless wrist movement just for the sake of it.
"Ah, that which protects the farm boys from my guards as they slip continuously from the grasp of the law. No, I've not a drop of divine protection. But why would I need it, against a gaze so weak that it would not register were you not spectacularly obtuse?"
"My gaze can paralyse the charge of a dire bear defending its cubs. You should not be moving."
"But I am no dire bear. I am a dire princess. And it should not require more than one eye to see that forcing your release is the second worst mistake you can make besides refusing my soap samples."
The overseer made no reply.
It didn't need to. Just from its silence, I knew that if it had a brow, it would be scrunched in hesitation.
Instead … its eye shifted to a pale blue hue.
In that moment, I could feel its presence as it dared to peer past the surface of my mind. At the bluffs and falsehoods it sought to unearth. I made no effort to expertly shield my forehead. For what it beheld was an image masked by no deceit. A warning dredged from memories born of no lie.
One of flames and ruin. Of tears and screaming. Of the end of all things.
Of the fate it was courting.
"… What am I seeing?" came a hushed voice, both distant yet near.
My smile softened.
And then it faded altogether as I offered an unimpeded sight of my arms crossing, shoulders relaxing and lips pursing as a blank vacancy consumed my expression.
With a precisely angled tilt of my head, I simply stood there as the horror stared at me.
And my response … was to stare back.
The horror jerked back at once.
"Who … Who are you?"
It was tugged back by its chains, the shadows rattling as its entire figure instinctively sought escape.
And why not?
For no matter what colours of the rainbow its eye could emit, not a single shade was as black as mine.
… Ohohohohoho!
Here it was! My ultimate technique!
[Princess Gaze]!!
When children were learning to curtsy, I was learning to disapprove of them!
Here was a fixed stare beyond words, filled with enough breathtaking disappointment so as to send all around me into a headless panic! An unblinking calm which heralded the authority of a princess about to fire everybody within pointing distance unless they deciphered from my blank expression who had erred and how they might fling them through the nearest window!
I allowed the floating horror to see it all.
The kitchens aflame as seasoned chefs forgot their hands. Brave knights on their knees as they pleaded for forgiveness. Servants in tears as they fled back to the homes they'd left behind for a better life.
Ohohoho … did this creature truly think that its own fixed stare could quell me?
All that did was bring down stone.
Mine, on the other hand, could bring down a kingdom to its knees.
I stepped forward as the overseer's eye took on a new hue.
One which was the white of fear.
"You … You are a monster."
I allowed my wordless gaze to end, offering my soothing laughter instead.
"Ohohohohohoho … not at all. I am an angel come to light the dark places in the world. And that includes anywhere you'd hope to flee. To hold me hostage is not something I will forget. Even should you escape and hole yourself up in the furthest recesses of the world, it would not matter. My scowl will find you–and a lidless eye which cannot blink is my prey. I shall be your eternal torment. The motion in every shadow. Day and night you will cower until I inject a nightmare so horrifying you will need to summon your own heroine to rescue you. I will leave an image so stark that you will shudder as you wake in the night, until the sweat drenches your retinas, every pore is emptied and you dry into a shrivelled husk. There will be no salvation or respite from my … wh-where are you going?"
All of a sudden, the overseer was no longer floating backwards.
It was floating up.
Back towards the ceiling, its shadow lifting like a boulder being plucked away.
Without a word, it proceeded to wedge itself into a tiny crevasse in the corner, somehow squishing its not-inconsiderable mass like a cat through a door flap a fraction of its appropriate size.
"Please leave."
I was aghast.
"I … I will do no such thing! I am not done threatening you yet!"
"I've decided I'm fine with this bathroom. It is very cozy."
"You will be fine with what I allow you!" I raised my sword, prepared to dislodge the eyeball if need be. "I do not care how much I must fill your waking days with nightmares! I will not leave until I have what I came for! I want a dragon, and you will tell me where it is!"
Blup.
Suddenly, a bizarre noise sounded just beside me.
Blup. Blup. Blup.
The basin of water stirred.
And then … it began to empty.
Its surface swirled as the water level lowered, draining through a gap in its centre as if rushing down through a well. What was revealed was a staircase, the water dribbling down its steps.
Within moments, an echoing breeze came up, indicative of a great emptiness beneath.
One wide enough to hold a dragon.
I nodded–just before offering a polite smile.
"Please enjoy your bathing time. As promised, I shall endeavour to export a batch of soap to you when production begins. Come, Coppelia. Let us be done with this dragon nonsense."
I stepped towards the revealed stairs. No steps came from behind me.
Instead, I saw the sight of Coppelia's still paralysed body as it lay face down on the floor.
Slightly concerned, I leaned down and lifted her head.
"–pffttt ahahahahaha mmmfhh–"
And then placed her face back down.
… Very well, then!
I could wait a few minutes.
They were all the same thing. Go rescue a dragon. A plan so simple only an adventurer could fail to follow it as they were distracted by a cat lounging on a window. It wasn't like brushing my hair. That was a task so intricate training began before I was born.
Instead, I had to contend with this.
A giant floating eyeball.
Now, its entire hue was so red and blotchy it either suffered insomnia beneath the ceilings of common inns or it was simply overly enamoured with me.
Sadly, my instincts for these things told me it was the latter. But while I was all too familiar with the gawks of my admirers, the only thing that usually destroyed was my appetite.
Seeing the speckles of light pulled towards the crimson iris like the loose socks which didn't exist towards my maids, I had no doubt this enthusiast intended to do more than harass me from a distance.
A constant puddle seeped from its jaws.
It was ghastly. And if I had to choose between disintegration from its eye or a single drop from its drool, I would opt for the least painful option for my attire.
Neither.
That's why–
"Absolutely not!!"
Starlight Grace left my side, ushering away the shadows cast by the flickering candles.
Clap.
A moment later, the illumination diminished as Coppelia's scythe joined me to a flash of darkness. Yet even when my fabled sword saw its light dimmed, that eerie glow from the eye remained.
In fact … it only grew brighter.
BRWEEEEEEEEM.
The next moment, all I felt was regret.
Not because a fiery ray of eyeball death successfully turned me into ashes.
After all, that'd be a relief.
"–Hiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"
No … instead, I was forced to bear the terrible burden of knowing that each second I remained conscious was another I had to endure this land of philandering heroes, maddened cheesemongers and floating eyeballs trying to murder me with streams of concentrated death.
And the worst thing?
Why, that was the knowledge the worst was still yet to come.
BRWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.
Despair was all I saw as I soared through the air as Coppelia's newest flag.
My hair trailed magnificently behind me as the nimble clockwork doll skipped from pillar to pillar. Not to hide behind. But simply to see them shatter.
"Ahahahahahahahah!"
Because amidst the pillars of stone bursting into a thousand fragments as a ray of destruction followed in our wake, the most disconcerting sound was the excited laughter of my loyal handmaiden as she fulfilled the foremost agenda on her bucket list.
Escaping consecutive explosions.
"Wooooooooooo! This is what I've missed most!"
I had nothing for her but a delicate groan, barely discernible amidst the mysterious screaming as she tugged me along with a single hand. But it wasn't without reason that she offered me all the grace of dragging home an errant child.
After all, her other hand was occupied.
Temporarily, at least.
"[Coppelia Throw]!"
As she bounded in the air, the cadence of shattering pillars came to a pause.
It was all she needed.
Hurling her cumbersome weapon as easily as a dry strudel, it flew with unerring precision towards the floating horror. Yet far from raising its tendrils to be cleaved, the overseer's crimson eye flashed violet towards the oncoming scythe.
It slowed, weighed down by an invisible hand.
Enough for the horror to tilt ever so slightly, presenting its shadowed bindings to be severed.
It never made it. The scythe vanished into wisps of dark smoke, before reappearing once more in Coppelia's hand just as she landed with feline grace.
"Oooh~ that was sneaky … I liked that!"
Coppelia offered a generous nod.
She was the only one. I was aghast at the horror's audacity.
Why, not only was the thing trying to incinerate us, but it was also trying to seek freedom! This was not complicated! It was one or the other, not both at the same time!
"H-How dare you!" I said, fixing my hair before raising my sword. "You are supposed to make your threat and then fail to kill us! Do you think being an eyeball excuses you from common decorum?! I hope those seeking your wisdom didn't look to you for conversation advice! How am I supposed to reject your ultimatum if I'm dead?!"
Dust filled the cavern, so thick that neither the candlelight nor the petering rays of dusk could break through. Even so, it did little to hide the overseer's lidless eye or its unfading smile.
"Hehehe."
It did even less to hide the gentle laughter.
Or rather, the impression of gentle laughter.
I did not need to read its mind to know there was as much genuineness to be found in its words as in an alleyway market in Reitzlake.
"In my experience of negotiation, a statement of intent is beneficial, as well as a demonstration of one's position."
"You are chained in a bathroom. That is your position."
The overseer raised its chin slightly.
"This isn't a bathroom," came the response, coupled with a whiff of indignation. "This is a web. But I am no spider seeking a meal, so I reiterate my offer of untold riches to the clockwork doll with an added amendment. Break my shackles and your destruction will be avoided. Rest assured, I desire nothing else than to immediately take to darker pastures where I can rid my mind of every shallow thought I've been forced to endure."
I scoffed while waving away the dust.
The shallowest thought was the belief Coppelia would countenance the idea of doing more than turning her nose up. Particularly as untold riches were already guaranteed to her as my loyal handmaiden.
"Incidentally, the amount I have available far exceeds a handmaiden's salary."
My mouth widened in horror.
"E-Excuse me! Are you trying to undermine the generous salary Coppelia is guaranteed?!"
"There's nothing to undermine. While a handmaiden's salary is comfortable, it's hardly the amount you believe it to be. My gratitude, on the other hand, comes with wealth the likes of which would cause your eyes to weep."
"An outrageous claim," I declared at once. "I've no idea which petty princess you compare me to, but my personal entourage receives bonuses directly related to the number of explosions I'm carried away from. You have directly contributed to this."
"I could directly contribute for a day and night. My wealth still exceeds yours."
"Words as true from your mouth as they are from a drunken peddler. There is no scenario in which an eyeball with no need of gold would possess more than me. How would you even attain it without adventurers flinging their belongings at you?"
"I have been the Bewitching Oracle long before I was forced into the role, if in another name and in another guise. And those seeking advice are those seeking to pay for it. Break my shackles and my wealth is yours to find."
"And how, exactly, would we find your scraps and copper crowns?"
"By following a glint in the dark which only 417,486 gold crowns can make."
My eyes blinked, despite my ears that I was uncertain about.
"Excuse me? How many was that?"
"417,486 gold crowns–as of my last count. Raw value, not including trinkets or items."
I paused for a moment.
Then, I turned to my handmaiden, who was rightfully basking with a bemused smile under the attention of so many promises of wealth despite the lack of any written guarantees.
"Per … Perhaps a compromise solution where we can have the gold and only partially release the horror under supervision could be done?"
"Eeehh?! Now you're convinced?!"
"It would only be for a day or two! Even a brief stroll through Ouzelia is surely enough to permanently dispel the curiosity of ever wishing to explore the outside world again!"
The overseer laughed.
"I have already offered my compromise. All that is left is the alternative."
All of a sudden, the creature's eye flashed to an acid green.
But no warning stream of incineration met us this time. A thump like the sound of a heartbeat filled the air instead.
I sensed Coppelia's legs shift as she sought to leap away.
She didn't.
In fact … she didn't move at all.
Her cheeks puffed out. The only motion as her arms and legs visibly quivered. Yet try as she might, it was like she was weighed down by my quadruple layer winter duvet.
Even the dust itself had come to a pause before the horror's gaze.
"It is over. The web is complete. But you needn't meet your dooms just yet. Clockwork doll, I will ease your release, whereupon you shall do as I bid. If you fail, I will immediately destroy you both and wait until my imprisonment ends or another with a suitable weapon arrives. Agree now and your safety will be … will be …"
The voice, spoken with such expert disregard, trailed into silence.
Instead, its lone eye grew larger … watching as I pinched Coppelia's cheeks.
"Ahahaha~ that tickles."
Only Coppelia's lips moved as she giggled.
Utterly still, she was at the mercy of my delicate handling as I offered her my healing touch. Repeatedly. In her soft, pliable cheeks. Poke, poke, poke.
For a moment, tranquillity entered my mind as the echoing of the intruder ceased.
It lasted far too short.
"You should not be moving." The voice was stunned. A curious thing for something which could peer into minds. "You are in my holding gaze."
"... Oh?" I idly turned from Coppelia and looked up. "And why should that matter?"
"You're no heroine of Ouzelia. You don't have the protection of providence offered by their calling."
"Ohohoho … providence?"
At once, I raised a hand to my lips, twirling with needless wrist movement just for the sake of it.
"Ah, that which protects the farm boys from my guards as they slip continuously from the grasp of the law. No, I've not a drop of divine protection. But why would I need it, against a gaze so weak that it would not register were you not spectacularly obtuse?"
"My gaze can paralyse the charge of a dire bear defending its cubs. You should not be moving."
"But I am no dire bear. I am a dire princess. And it should not require more than one eye to see that forcing your release is the second worst mistake you can make besides refusing my soap samples."
The overseer made no reply.
It didn't need to. Just from its silence, I knew that if it had a brow, it would be scrunched in hesitation.
Instead … its eye shifted to a pale blue hue.
In that moment, I could feel its presence as it dared to peer past the surface of my mind. At the bluffs and falsehoods it sought to unearth. I made no effort to expertly shield my forehead. For what it beheld was an image masked by no deceit. A warning dredged from memories born of no lie.
One of flames and ruin. Of tears and screaming. Of the end of all things.
Of the fate it was courting.
"… What am I seeing?" came a hushed voice, both distant yet near.
My smile softened.
And then it faded altogether as I offered an unimpeded sight of my arms crossing, shoulders relaxing and lips pursing as a blank vacancy consumed my expression.
With a precisely angled tilt of my head, I simply stood there as the horror stared at me.
And my response … was to stare back.
The horror jerked back at once.
"Who … Who are you?"
It was tugged back by its chains, the shadows rattling as its entire figure instinctively sought escape.
And why not?
For no matter what colours of the rainbow its eye could emit, not a single shade was as black as mine.
… Ohohohohoho!
Here it was! My ultimate technique!
[Princess Gaze]!!
When children were learning to curtsy, I was learning to disapprove of them!
Here was a fixed stare beyond words, filled with enough breathtaking disappointment so as to send all around me into a headless panic! An unblinking calm which heralded the authority of a princess about to fire everybody within pointing distance unless they deciphered from my blank expression who had erred and how they might fling them through the nearest window!
I allowed the floating horror to see it all.
The kitchens aflame as seasoned chefs forgot their hands. Brave knights on their knees as they pleaded for forgiveness. Servants in tears as they fled back to the homes they'd left behind for a better life.
Ohohoho … did this creature truly think that its own fixed stare could quell me?
All that did was bring down stone.
Mine, on the other hand, could bring down a kingdom to its knees.
I stepped forward as the overseer's eye took on a new hue.
One which was the white of fear.
"You … You are a monster."
I allowed my wordless gaze to end, offering my soothing laughter instead.
"Ohohohohohoho … not at all. I am an angel come to light the dark places in the world. And that includes anywhere you'd hope to flee. To hold me hostage is not something I will forget. Even should you escape and hole yourself up in the furthest recesses of the world, it would not matter. My scowl will find you–and a lidless eye which cannot blink is my prey. I shall be your eternal torment. The motion in every shadow. Day and night you will cower until I inject a nightmare so horrifying you will need to summon your own heroine to rescue you. I will leave an image so stark that you will shudder as you wake in the night, until the sweat drenches your retinas, every pore is emptied and you dry into a shrivelled husk. There will be no salvation or respite from my … wh-where are you going?"
All of a sudden, the overseer was no longer floating backwards.
It was floating up.
Back towards the ceiling, its shadow lifting like a boulder being plucked away.
Without a word, it proceeded to wedge itself into a tiny crevasse in the corner, somehow squishing its not-inconsiderable mass like a cat through a door flap a fraction of its appropriate size.
"Please leave."
I was aghast.
"I … I will do no such thing! I am not done threatening you yet!"
"I've decided I'm fine with this bathroom. It is very cozy."
"You will be fine with what I allow you!" I raised my sword, prepared to dislodge the eyeball if need be. "I do not care how much I must fill your waking days with nightmares! I will not leave until I have what I came for! I want a dragon, and you will tell me where it is!"
Blup.
Suddenly, a bizarre noise sounded just beside me.
Blup. Blup. Blup.
The basin of water stirred.
And then … it began to empty.
Its surface swirled as the water level lowered, draining through a gap in its centre as if rushing down through a well. What was revealed was a staircase, the water dribbling down its steps.
Within moments, an echoing breeze came up, indicative of a great emptiness beneath.
One wide enough to hold a dragon.
I nodded–just before offering a polite smile.
"Please enjoy your bathing time. As promised, I shall endeavour to export a batch of soap to you when production begins. Come, Coppelia. Let us be done with this dragon nonsense."
I stepped towards the revealed stairs. No steps came from behind me.
Instead, I saw the sight of Coppelia's still paralysed body as it lay face down on the floor.
Slightly concerned, I leaned down and lifted her head.
"–pffttt ahahahahaha mmmfhh–"
And then placed her face back down.
… Very well, then!
I could wait a few minutes.
Last edited:
- Location
- Argentina
Coppelia is having the best birthday ever.
This is true, once you see Juliette everything else is disappointing.
Book 8 is now available on Amazon!!
Hi there!
Miss Racy Corset has joined the world of eBooks ... in shopkeeper mode! I'm not certain what she has in that potion, but there is 100% chance it will cure you of all your ailments (one way or another). So before you drink it, please consider the opportunity to go over the horrifying gauntlet of bosses within the Royal Institute of Mages once again in a newly edited Book 8!
Thank you so much for your support! If you'd like to help out more than you already do, feel free to drop the book a rating. It helps so much!
Book 8: eBook
(Yes, there is also a chapter tonight!)
Chapter 305: The Least And Most Expected
I led the way, Starlight Grace in hand.
The darkened stairs wound on relentlessly.
There wasn't a hint of the pleasing spiral my bedroom tower offered. Sharp and angular, it zig-zagged with clockwork precision into the depths of the mountain until I was no longer counting the steps.
Normally, this would be little more than an exercise in dullness. Yet as I descended this veritable tunnel beneath a floating eyeball's bathtub, it was not mud and roughly hewn rocks which were lit by my sword's glare.
It was walls of finely engraved stone, the surface so keenly chiselled that it shone like a mirror.
Whereas the caverns overhead were undoubtedly the work of amateurs, this was the product of professional stonemasons.
A glance was all I required. I offered my full inspection instead.
Few things etched upon bare walls earned my attention. But these were not the coarse recesses where a poorly laid flaming spike waited to be sprung.
Octagonal patterns decorated the tunnel, the distinct lines as accurately measured as the steps. A statement as loud as the boisterousness of those who had carved them, for few would fail to recognise the handiwork on display.
"Dwarves," I said simply.
Indeed, it was no small feat to carve through a mountain.
It was even harder to dig beneath it.
But for dwarven stonemasons, it was a greater accomplishment to prevent my nose from wrinkling. Something they regularly failed to do.
"Dwarves~!" repeated Coppelia with a joyful fling of her arms. A moment later, she tilted her head. "Huh, that's weird. We don't normally have dwarves in Ouzelia."
"Is that so? How strange. I'd have thought the mountains of Ouzelia were rife for illegal looting."
"Oh, they definitely are. We actually used to have loads of dwarves, but the last ones left ages ago."
"I see. Did they manage to fully excavate your most prosperous mountains with one hand while claiming ignorance with the other?"
"Nope. Still filled with treasure. It's just that it's really hard to illegally mine anything in Ouzelia without a dragon coming in and yoinking it away. Those guys really mess up other people's long term looting plans when they just keep taking all their stuff."
I nodded.
"Dragons. The kings of vultures. But I admit they at least ensure your nation's wealth does not abscond."
"Mmh~ dragons have loads of uses. You can have amazing picnics. Just find a nice dragon lair, sit outside the entrance and every now and again, whack the ground a whole bunch of times with a broomstick. The flame which comes out can make the best fondue sandwiches."
"... Coppelia, do you purposefully aggravate your dragon in order to acquire melted cheese?"
"Ahahaha." Coppelia waved her hand dismissively. "Yes."
I gave it a moment's thought, then hummed in agreement.
"Very well, then. An excellent use of your time. To purposefully fatigue a dragon ensures one fewer available to ferry me away in the night."
"Well, I don't think the big guy is one you need to worry about. Especially if dwarves are scampering around the place. They don't have a good relationship, what with the constant yoinking and all."
"Then he may rejoice. As much as dwarves enjoy squatting beneath mountains they do not own, if they were actually present, they'd ensure every ear in the realm knew it … even those desperately searching for peace in a tower."
"Ooh, it sounds like I'm about to hear a princess story."
"Not at all. Mine's an experience so ordinary that even the commoners outside the Royal Villa can share in it."
"They got really drunk and insulted everyone, didn't they?"
"It was awful, Coppelia. A modest delegation, I was told. I'd never hear it from my tower. Do you know what happened? … Halfway through the night, I thought they were tunnelling beneath the ground. They were simply snoring instead."
I shuddered as the memories came as clear as the shaking of my bed frame.
"Even without being drunk, their rowdiness was enough to echo after they'd left. And still they had no interest to be exploited by our merchants and traders for our selfish gains. Dwarves know as much about diplomacy as they do about gardening."
"Weeeell, there aren't a lot of flowers underground."
"All the more tragic we find ourselves here, then." I frowned at the engravings, each etched with immaculate monotony. "Still, these walls were made by dwarves. But not for dwarves. This is no abandoned holding we've discovered. I recognise these patterns."
"You can't tell me this came from a brochure."
I shook my head. If only it were.
"Worse. Even the most basic of overpriced dwarven designs come with basic motif engraving as standard. But these markings are far too unassuming. Not a single meaningless swirl or cadaver effigy exists as a distinguishing characteristic. And anybody who commissions dwarven stonemasons would also have the wealth to debase their creation appropriately."
An unorthodox combination.
Dwarven architecture without ceremony. Like peasants without soil.
The air was stale, but not rancid. These tunnels were used. But not by anyone who needed torches, golems or servants to accidentally drop a ledger detailing the cost of hiring dwarves.
My suspicions rose at once … as did my trepidation.
Something was amiss.
And as a whispering echo filled my ears, I knew my fears would shortly prove true.
The bottom of the stairwell revealed itself at last. Granite so polished a troll would try to sell it as marble. Likely bundled with the great archway now towering overhead. It was a thing so immaculately carved and oversized it could have stood as its own monument … for what it welcomed us to was the depths of a mountain no more appropriate for a dragon than a princess.
And still–not a single motif.
I pursed my lips as a sliver of fear entered my innocent heart.
Indeed, I had no more doubt as I viewed the archway bereft of a single personalised quotation, much less the tasteless gargoyles that such a thing insisted on being flanked by. The result was that it wasn't even dull.
No, it was well beyond that.
It was simply … functional. And the reason was as obvious as it was dire.
"Coppelia, this place … was prebuilt."
I shuddered as I took in the warning signs.
No house sigils, no emblems, no skulls and no squiggles. Here was a canvas destined never to be scribbled upon, its architects long having left for more exciting work.
Coppelia blinked up as she admired the blandness of it all.
"Gasp. We are not ready."
"I know. This is unimaginable. We are dealing with somebody with such low standards that they simply purchased the site of their schemes outright from what was available."
"What can we possibly do against such a being?"
"I don't know. Nobody does. Anyone capable of purchasing a prebuilt lair is capable of anything. For all we know, they don't even commission their own generic fruit bowl paintings. They purchase them from a gallery instead. Because it's all the same."
A shudder ran through me.
Even so, I would not turn back now.
"Very well." I lifted my chin. "We must prepare for the worst. The end is near–as well as whatever malevolence awaits. I can smell the ill will like the dust in the air. It is time at last to rescue your dragon."
"Aww."
"Hm?"
"I mean, yay!"
I pursed my lips.
Then, certain in the knowledge Coppelia most definitely wanted me home as much as I did, I swallowed a deep breath before forcing myself to peer ahead. Only a hollow chasm met me, and a breeze which had likely been a prisoner as long as the darkness.
I strolled forward to meet it all.
As Coppelia and I passed beneath the bland archway, our footsteps clattered in our wake. But only for a moment. A great hall fit for any number of hill giants immediately revealed itself, so vast that even our echoes failed to reach the walls.
But that alone wasn't what muffled our presence or caused my mouth to widen.
No … it was because for all its size, the hall was not empty.
Quite the opposite.
It was filled to the very brim … by books.
Piles and piles of books.
Where Starlight Grace pointed, I was met by a desert where every grain of sand was a page and every dune a small mountain of books.
Here and there, I saw hints of the furnishings which came as standard, now absorbed by their new tenants. The shelves of cabinets and tables alike lay broken beneath the weight of their burdens with no respite in sight. Because for all the works on display, this was assuredly no library.
I was aghast.
"W-What is this … ?"
A treasure trove of books the likes of which could fill up all the libraries and book stores of my kingdom … and they were piled like autumn leaves left to rot!
Pages unending which had been filled with the sweat and hardship of those who had penned them!
As a scholarly princess, such a mistreatment was anathema to my eyes … nor was I alone in my horror!
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~"
Indeed … as the resident librarian slid down a dune of books, arms in the air as she came to a stop before me, I could very, very almost see the grief hidden amidst her bright smile!
"C-Coppelia! This is no time to be sliding down a mound of books!"
"Wrong. It's always time to be sliding down a mound of books! It's great! Try it!"
"I will not," I said as I began climbing the nearest mound. "Why in anyone's name are all the books to have ever been written lying here? And why have they been … spewed so thoughtlessly? This is an insult to the craft of all who have ever strived to put words onto pages!"
I slid down the pile of books.
Not because I wanted to. But because I was simply forced to. The clear path weaving between the makeshift slides? I never saw it.
"I mean, that depends on your definition of a book," said Coppelia, who too was cursed with poor eyesight as she skipped to the bigger mound in front. I pursed my lips in dissatisfaction. "Do you count shopping lists as works of literature?"
"Excuse me?"
Coppelia scooped a book and raised it towards me.
I leaned in to read the cover. I couldn't. The title wasn't embossed. It'd merely been scratched in.
"Weekly reagent purchases," she said while flipping through the pages. "It's a list of things purchased over the course of a year. Vegetables, socks and reagents all mixed together. No name and no context."
A moment later, she plucked another book. She flipped through it. And then she repeated the process with another, and then another.
"Let's see … a recipe book with sporadic cooking times and ingredient quantities. A memoir pining over a lost love. Notes on chores still yet to be completed. A ledger filled with laundry costs. Aaaaand … an autobiography."
"... Oh? Who by?"
"No idea. They forgot to write their name."
I was appalled as I slid down the next mound.
These … These were not treasured works serving to entertain me!
They were junk!
"How dare such a vast amount of parchment be used so senselessly! Why, this is clearly a waste of good kindling! For what reason would such an awful collection exist, buried like treasure beneath a mountain?"
"No idea. I don't recognise any of the names written down. The ones who remembered to."
"... Could this have anything to do with your dragon?"
"Not unless the big guy suddenly has an interest in budgeting for a pet hamster. He only reads the kind of stuff which you use to hide scandalous books behind."
I nodded as I climbed the pile I'd just slid down for no other purpose than the vantage it allowed.
Indeed, from here, I could easily see the worst case scenario.
Somewhere, a dragon who ensured his tomes of knowledge were before him and not in the hands of my tutors was now separated from what he most cherished. And all he had was literal clutter.
"I see … then there's only one possible explanation. Cruelty. To offer such works to a dragon must be more tortuous than any blade or spell."
"Yeah. He'd get bored petty fast. The quality of this parchment is so bad you can't even doodle on it. Not that I've ever seen him do it. All the time during the annual staff meeting."
An unexpected pang of sympathy rose within me.
To be forced to endure meetings once a year. As a princess who too was overworked, I understood the pain.
"Then his plight is greater than I imagined … by any chance, would you know if the dragon is near?"
"I'm pretty sure he is. The big guy smells like an old book. A really musky old book that's aged as well as a mouldy barrel. Which is pretty much everything down here. But it feels like he's here."
I nodded as I slid down the next mound.
And then I stood up, patted myself down and regally walked the rest of the way ahead. It was time for princess business.
"Very well, then. It won't do to see him suffer any more. Nor us, for that matter. We need to leave before the aroma of mouldy barrel stains us as well."
"Okie~"
Coppelia offered a giggle. Then helped prod me along as I navigated through the sea of books.
Here and there, a sign of life flashed in the periphery. It could have been a bat or a lost mole. Yet no matter which horror awaited, I accepted no obstacle before me.
Unless, of course, it was a dead end.
I was stunned at what I saw.
A second archway awaited at the end of the hall, greater than even the one we'd entered from. But whereas this was wide enough to boast any gate … there was instead a wall.
My mouth widened in horror.
Because amidst the functional, if unfashionable hall devoid of personalisation, here was the only thing out of character. Far from the identical stonework with matching engravings on display, it was simply filled with … bricks.
Just bricks.
Common red bricks.
No different than found used to shore up dockside warehouses where none but drunken sailors could ignore them. A sight so ghastly it made the barnyard hovels of baronesses look fashionable.
"W-Why is there a wall here?! … And why is it so ugly?!"
To my surprise, Coppelia's agreement looked startlingly similar to a nod of admiration.
"Oooh … not bad~"
"N-Not bad?!" I turned around at the dunes of books, searching for hidden faces peeking over them. "You cannot utter words like that! If any of my nobility were to hear such words, I'd need to requisition my ominous choir to tail them for months!"
"This is pretty smart, though!"
"It's a brick wall. One in place of where a door could be waiting. With hinges. Clearly, the mastermind behind this travesty didn't think about how they intended to get out afterwards."
"Yup, that sounds about right! Here in Ouzelia, our masterminds aren't really concerned with small details like that. They just want to survive. Especially if they think a heroine is about to arrive."
She leaned forwards and poked the mortar binding the bricks.
It squished.
The mixture was still wet. I raised my arms in exasperation.
"Do you mean somebody just built a wall for us?!"
"Great, huh?"
"No! … What kind of greeting is that?!"
"One where they're really bad with introductions. This wall was definitely designed for a heroine. Mazes and traps and doors only slow them down. But a wall? They wouldn't know what to do. They'd be stuck here forever without a lever to pull or a magical gadget conveniently left around to help them."
I clenched my grip around my sword.
"Well, luckily we suffer no such inhibitions."
Coppelia raised her arm at once. And then began stretching her leg.
"Me, me, me! I'll do it! It won't feel like home until I've kicked something down!"
Uggghhh.
I gave one final groan. We'd lasted so long.
"Do you have to? Can't you simply … poke the wall? It's not even set."
"It's tradition! The big showdown is obviously ahead. You can't just poke a wall down."
I placed my face in my palms.
It was all I could do. In the end, this wasn't my kingdom. If standard etiquette was to break down walls, then who was I to suggest otherwise?
"I'm not looking," I said, looking so far away I somehow ended up peeking in Coppelia's direction.
She beamed. I could have seen it without Starlight Grace's light. But even if I didn't, the sound of her leg as it swung like a bat painted an image as vivid as the destruction to follow.
"[Coppelia Kick]!"
Bwaam.
The wall went down, bricks and dust flying as I regretfully raised my sword at the sight before me.
However … the moment I waved the worst of it away and stepped through the newly made improvement, I forgot the mess at once.
A vast cavern awaited.
One as large as another I'd seen not long ago.
A dragon's lair, punctuated by streams of moonlight.
And this time, its inhabitant was not missing.
Within this abode of blackened stone was a living memory from the days of old. A symbol of both strength and lineage. A figure made as much of magic as it was blood. Of stories and history, legend and myth. Each with truths and lies both indistinguishable and inseparable.
Before me, an ancient green dragon slept upon a pile of gold.
Wings which covered the cavern in a shadow even while at rest. Claws which could pierce and reshape the land whole. Scales which blunted both fangs and swords. And four … yes, four legs.
I checked.
Twice.
A majestic sight captured countless times in the drawings of fairytales and the nightmares of innocent princesses. And now I was creeping closer. However, it had little to do with the great chains shackling the dragon's limbs, each so black that they absorbed my sword's light.
No … it was the simple fact that on this rare occasion, it was not the dragon who was my foe.
It was the girl sitting upon the end of its snout.
One leg crossed over the other in a classical pose of wickedness at play, her foot dangled idly in the air.
A lively smile. A youthful face. And luminously pink hair.
A girl in a frilled pinafore dress, its appearance halfway between a book vendor and a maid's uniform.
And most tellingly of all, a large golden key upon her back.
"Ah, I forgot to say something before I sent you off," said Fleur the clockwork librarian. She clapped her hands together and sweetly smiled with a tilt of her head. "... Welcome to Ouzelia."
The darkened stairs wound on relentlessly.
There wasn't a hint of the pleasing spiral my bedroom tower offered. Sharp and angular, it zig-zagged with clockwork precision into the depths of the mountain until I was no longer counting the steps.
Normally, this would be little more than an exercise in dullness. Yet as I descended this veritable tunnel beneath a floating eyeball's bathtub, it was not mud and roughly hewn rocks which were lit by my sword's glare.
It was walls of finely engraved stone, the surface so keenly chiselled that it shone like a mirror.
Whereas the caverns overhead were undoubtedly the work of amateurs, this was the product of professional stonemasons.
A glance was all I required. I offered my full inspection instead.
Few things etched upon bare walls earned my attention. But these were not the coarse recesses where a poorly laid flaming spike waited to be sprung.
Octagonal patterns decorated the tunnel, the distinct lines as accurately measured as the steps. A statement as loud as the boisterousness of those who had carved them, for few would fail to recognise the handiwork on display.
"Dwarves," I said simply.
Indeed, it was no small feat to carve through a mountain.
It was even harder to dig beneath it.
But for dwarven stonemasons, it was a greater accomplishment to prevent my nose from wrinkling. Something they regularly failed to do.
"Dwarves~!" repeated Coppelia with a joyful fling of her arms. A moment later, she tilted her head. "Huh, that's weird. We don't normally have dwarves in Ouzelia."
"Is that so? How strange. I'd have thought the mountains of Ouzelia were rife for illegal looting."
"Oh, they definitely are. We actually used to have loads of dwarves, but the last ones left ages ago."
"I see. Did they manage to fully excavate your most prosperous mountains with one hand while claiming ignorance with the other?"
"Nope. Still filled with treasure. It's just that it's really hard to illegally mine anything in Ouzelia without a dragon coming in and yoinking it away. Those guys really mess up other people's long term looting plans when they just keep taking all their stuff."
I nodded.
"Dragons. The kings of vultures. But I admit they at least ensure your nation's wealth does not abscond."
"Mmh~ dragons have loads of uses. You can have amazing picnics. Just find a nice dragon lair, sit outside the entrance and every now and again, whack the ground a whole bunch of times with a broomstick. The flame which comes out can make the best fondue sandwiches."
"... Coppelia, do you purposefully aggravate your dragon in order to acquire melted cheese?"
"Ahahaha." Coppelia waved her hand dismissively. "Yes."
I gave it a moment's thought, then hummed in agreement.
"Very well, then. An excellent use of your time. To purposefully fatigue a dragon ensures one fewer available to ferry me away in the night."
"Well, I don't think the big guy is one you need to worry about. Especially if dwarves are scampering around the place. They don't have a good relationship, what with the constant yoinking and all."
"Then he may rejoice. As much as dwarves enjoy squatting beneath mountains they do not own, if they were actually present, they'd ensure every ear in the realm knew it … even those desperately searching for peace in a tower."
"Ooh, it sounds like I'm about to hear a princess story."
"Not at all. Mine's an experience so ordinary that even the commoners outside the Royal Villa can share in it."
"They got really drunk and insulted everyone, didn't they?"
"It was awful, Coppelia. A modest delegation, I was told. I'd never hear it from my tower. Do you know what happened? … Halfway through the night, I thought they were tunnelling beneath the ground. They were simply snoring instead."
I shuddered as the memories came as clear as the shaking of my bed frame.
"Even without being drunk, their rowdiness was enough to echo after they'd left. And still they had no interest to be exploited by our merchants and traders for our selfish gains. Dwarves know as much about diplomacy as they do about gardening."
"Weeeell, there aren't a lot of flowers underground."
"All the more tragic we find ourselves here, then." I frowned at the engravings, each etched with immaculate monotony. "Still, these walls were made by dwarves. But not for dwarves. This is no abandoned holding we've discovered. I recognise these patterns."
"You can't tell me this came from a brochure."
I shook my head. If only it were.
"Worse. Even the most basic of overpriced dwarven designs come with basic motif engraving as standard. But these markings are far too unassuming. Not a single meaningless swirl or cadaver effigy exists as a distinguishing characteristic. And anybody who commissions dwarven stonemasons would also have the wealth to debase their creation appropriately."
An unorthodox combination.
Dwarven architecture without ceremony. Like peasants without soil.
The air was stale, but not rancid. These tunnels were used. But not by anyone who needed torches, golems or servants to accidentally drop a ledger detailing the cost of hiring dwarves.
My suspicions rose at once … as did my trepidation.
Something was amiss.
And as a whispering echo filled my ears, I knew my fears would shortly prove true.
The bottom of the stairwell revealed itself at last. Granite so polished a troll would try to sell it as marble. Likely bundled with the great archway now towering overhead. It was a thing so immaculately carved and oversized it could have stood as its own monument … for what it welcomed us to was the depths of a mountain no more appropriate for a dragon than a princess.
And still–not a single motif.
I pursed my lips as a sliver of fear entered my innocent heart.
Indeed, I had no more doubt as I viewed the archway bereft of a single personalised quotation, much less the tasteless gargoyles that such a thing insisted on being flanked by. The result was that it wasn't even dull.
No, it was well beyond that.
It was simply … functional. And the reason was as obvious as it was dire.
"Coppelia, this place … was prebuilt."
I shuddered as I took in the warning signs.
No house sigils, no emblems, no skulls and no squiggles. Here was a canvas destined never to be scribbled upon, its architects long having left for more exciting work.
Coppelia blinked up as she admired the blandness of it all.
"Gasp. We are not ready."
"I know. This is unimaginable. We are dealing with somebody with such low standards that they simply purchased the site of their schemes outright from what was available."
"What can we possibly do against such a being?"
"I don't know. Nobody does. Anyone capable of purchasing a prebuilt lair is capable of anything. For all we know, they don't even commission their own generic fruit bowl paintings. They purchase them from a gallery instead. Because it's all the same."
A shudder ran through me.
Even so, I would not turn back now.
"Very well." I lifted my chin. "We must prepare for the worst. The end is near–as well as whatever malevolence awaits. I can smell the ill will like the dust in the air. It is time at last to rescue your dragon."
"Aww."
"Hm?"
"I mean, yay!"
I pursed my lips.
Then, certain in the knowledge Coppelia most definitely wanted me home as much as I did, I swallowed a deep breath before forcing myself to peer ahead. Only a hollow chasm met me, and a breeze which had likely been a prisoner as long as the darkness.
I strolled forward to meet it all.
As Coppelia and I passed beneath the bland archway, our footsteps clattered in our wake. But only for a moment. A great hall fit for any number of hill giants immediately revealed itself, so vast that even our echoes failed to reach the walls.
But that alone wasn't what muffled our presence or caused my mouth to widen.
No … it was because for all its size, the hall was not empty.
Quite the opposite.
It was filled to the very brim … by books.
Piles and piles of books.
Where Starlight Grace pointed, I was met by a desert where every grain of sand was a page and every dune a small mountain of books.
Here and there, I saw hints of the furnishings which came as standard, now absorbed by their new tenants. The shelves of cabinets and tables alike lay broken beneath the weight of their burdens with no respite in sight. Because for all the works on display, this was assuredly no library.
I was aghast.
"W-What is this … ?"
A treasure trove of books the likes of which could fill up all the libraries and book stores of my kingdom … and they were piled like autumn leaves left to rot!
Pages unending which had been filled with the sweat and hardship of those who had penned them!
As a scholarly princess, such a mistreatment was anathema to my eyes … nor was I alone in my horror!
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~"
Indeed … as the resident librarian slid down a dune of books, arms in the air as she came to a stop before me, I could very, very almost see the grief hidden amidst her bright smile!
"C-Coppelia! This is no time to be sliding down a mound of books!"
"Wrong. It's always time to be sliding down a mound of books! It's great! Try it!"
"I will not," I said as I began climbing the nearest mound. "Why in anyone's name are all the books to have ever been written lying here? And why have they been … spewed so thoughtlessly? This is an insult to the craft of all who have ever strived to put words onto pages!"
I slid down the pile of books.
Not because I wanted to. But because I was simply forced to. The clear path weaving between the makeshift slides? I never saw it.
"I mean, that depends on your definition of a book," said Coppelia, who too was cursed with poor eyesight as she skipped to the bigger mound in front. I pursed my lips in dissatisfaction. "Do you count shopping lists as works of literature?"
"Excuse me?"
Coppelia scooped a book and raised it towards me.
I leaned in to read the cover. I couldn't. The title wasn't embossed. It'd merely been scratched in.
"Weekly reagent purchases," she said while flipping through the pages. "It's a list of things purchased over the course of a year. Vegetables, socks and reagents all mixed together. No name and no context."
A moment later, she plucked another book. She flipped through it. And then she repeated the process with another, and then another.
"Let's see … a recipe book with sporadic cooking times and ingredient quantities. A memoir pining over a lost love. Notes on chores still yet to be completed. A ledger filled with laundry costs. Aaaaand … an autobiography."
"... Oh? Who by?"
"No idea. They forgot to write their name."
I was appalled as I slid down the next mound.
These … These were not treasured works serving to entertain me!
They were junk!
"How dare such a vast amount of parchment be used so senselessly! Why, this is clearly a waste of good kindling! For what reason would such an awful collection exist, buried like treasure beneath a mountain?"
"No idea. I don't recognise any of the names written down. The ones who remembered to."
"... Could this have anything to do with your dragon?"
"Not unless the big guy suddenly has an interest in budgeting for a pet hamster. He only reads the kind of stuff which you use to hide scandalous books behind."
I nodded as I climbed the pile I'd just slid down for no other purpose than the vantage it allowed.
Indeed, from here, I could easily see the worst case scenario.
Somewhere, a dragon who ensured his tomes of knowledge were before him and not in the hands of my tutors was now separated from what he most cherished. And all he had was literal clutter.
"I see … then there's only one possible explanation. Cruelty. To offer such works to a dragon must be more tortuous than any blade or spell."
"Yeah. He'd get bored petty fast. The quality of this parchment is so bad you can't even doodle on it. Not that I've ever seen him do it. All the time during the annual staff meeting."
An unexpected pang of sympathy rose within me.
To be forced to endure meetings once a year. As a princess who too was overworked, I understood the pain.
"Then his plight is greater than I imagined … by any chance, would you know if the dragon is near?"
"I'm pretty sure he is. The big guy smells like an old book. A really musky old book that's aged as well as a mouldy barrel. Which is pretty much everything down here. But it feels like he's here."
I nodded as I slid down the next mound.
And then I stood up, patted myself down and regally walked the rest of the way ahead. It was time for princess business.
"Very well, then. It won't do to see him suffer any more. Nor us, for that matter. We need to leave before the aroma of mouldy barrel stains us as well."
"Okie~"
Coppelia offered a giggle. Then helped prod me along as I navigated through the sea of books.
Here and there, a sign of life flashed in the periphery. It could have been a bat or a lost mole. Yet no matter which horror awaited, I accepted no obstacle before me.
Unless, of course, it was a dead end.
I was stunned at what I saw.
A second archway awaited at the end of the hall, greater than even the one we'd entered from. But whereas this was wide enough to boast any gate … there was instead a wall.
My mouth widened in horror.
Because amidst the functional, if unfashionable hall devoid of personalisation, here was the only thing out of character. Far from the identical stonework with matching engravings on display, it was simply filled with … bricks.
Just bricks.
Common red bricks.
No different than found used to shore up dockside warehouses where none but drunken sailors could ignore them. A sight so ghastly it made the barnyard hovels of baronesses look fashionable.
"W-Why is there a wall here?! … And why is it so ugly?!"
To my surprise, Coppelia's agreement looked startlingly similar to a nod of admiration.
"Oooh … not bad~"
"N-Not bad?!" I turned around at the dunes of books, searching for hidden faces peeking over them. "You cannot utter words like that! If any of my nobility were to hear such words, I'd need to requisition my ominous choir to tail them for months!"
"This is pretty smart, though!"
"It's a brick wall. One in place of where a door could be waiting. With hinges. Clearly, the mastermind behind this travesty didn't think about how they intended to get out afterwards."
"Yup, that sounds about right! Here in Ouzelia, our masterminds aren't really concerned with small details like that. They just want to survive. Especially if they think a heroine is about to arrive."
She leaned forwards and poked the mortar binding the bricks.
It squished.
The mixture was still wet. I raised my arms in exasperation.
"Do you mean somebody just built a wall for us?!"
"Great, huh?"
"No! … What kind of greeting is that?!"
"One where they're really bad with introductions. This wall was definitely designed for a heroine. Mazes and traps and doors only slow them down. But a wall? They wouldn't know what to do. They'd be stuck here forever without a lever to pull or a magical gadget conveniently left around to help them."
I clenched my grip around my sword.
"Well, luckily we suffer no such inhibitions."
Coppelia raised her arm at once. And then began stretching her leg.
"Me, me, me! I'll do it! It won't feel like home until I've kicked something down!"
Uggghhh.
I gave one final groan. We'd lasted so long.
"Do you have to? Can't you simply … poke the wall? It's not even set."
"It's tradition! The big showdown is obviously ahead. You can't just poke a wall down."
I placed my face in my palms.
It was all I could do. In the end, this wasn't my kingdom. If standard etiquette was to break down walls, then who was I to suggest otherwise?
"I'm not looking," I said, looking so far away I somehow ended up peeking in Coppelia's direction.
She beamed. I could have seen it without Starlight Grace's light. But even if I didn't, the sound of her leg as it swung like a bat painted an image as vivid as the destruction to follow.
"[Coppelia Kick]!"
Bwaam.
The wall went down, bricks and dust flying as I regretfully raised my sword at the sight before me.
However … the moment I waved the worst of it away and stepped through the newly made improvement, I forgot the mess at once.
A vast cavern awaited.
One as large as another I'd seen not long ago.
A dragon's lair, punctuated by streams of moonlight.
And this time, its inhabitant was not missing.
Within this abode of blackened stone was a living memory from the days of old. A symbol of both strength and lineage. A figure made as much of magic as it was blood. Of stories and history, legend and myth. Each with truths and lies both indistinguishable and inseparable.
Before me, an ancient green dragon slept upon a pile of gold.
Wings which covered the cavern in a shadow even while at rest. Claws which could pierce and reshape the land whole. Scales which blunted both fangs and swords. And four … yes, four legs.
I checked.
Twice.
A majestic sight captured countless times in the drawings of fairytales and the nightmares of innocent princesses. And now I was creeping closer. However, it had little to do with the great chains shackling the dragon's limbs, each so black that they absorbed my sword's light.
No … it was the simple fact that on this rare occasion, it was not the dragon who was my foe.
It was the girl sitting upon the end of its snout.
One leg crossed over the other in a classical pose of wickedness at play, her foot dangled idly in the air.
A lively smile. A youthful face. And luminously pink hair.
A girl in a frilled pinafore dress, its appearance halfway between a book vendor and a maid's uniform.
And most tellingly of all, a large golden key upon her back.
"Ah, I forgot to say something before I sent you off," said Fleur the clockwork librarian. She clapped her hands together and sweetly smiled with a tilt of her head. "... Welcome to Ouzelia."
- Location
- Argentina
"If you just wanted a vacation, couldn't you haven't done something else?" I couldn't help but to ask.
"Well to be honest I was hoping to trick a Hero or Heroine to kill this idiot dragon. This is totally not tax fraud because we are broke because this stupid dragon sucks at money, no sir!"
"Wait a minute! You are doing this just to get money for the library!" Coppelia dramatically pointed out.
"No of course not, what Dragon would agree to a plan like this even if it got them gold and more books?"
"Ah so you literally forced him." I pointed out.
"Well to be honest I was hoping to trick a Hero or Heroine to kill this idiot dragon. This is totally not tax fraud because we are broke because this stupid dragon sucks at money, no sir!"
"Wait a minute! You are doing this just to get money for the library!" Coppelia dramatically pointed out.
"No of course not, what Dragon would agree to a plan like this even if it got them gold and more books?"
"Ah so you literally forced him." I pointed out.
- Pronouns
- It
I get why you stubbed the first few volumes but its kinda a shame.
I was trying to link this story to a friend but after linking it I remembered that you gotta buy the old stuff now.
Which brought on a further thought. How do you not just bleed readers without the constant trickle of newcomers? Clearly you dont. But the question is how?
I was trying to link this story to a friend but after linking it I remembered that you gotta buy the old stuff now.
Which brought on a further thought. How do you not just bleed readers without the constant trickle of newcomers? Clearly you dont. But the question is how?
I have a lot of thoughts about stubbing my work and all of them are regret. More professional authors than me will stub and not look back, but there is a joy in allowing everyone to read it easily and without the need for a kindle subscription that is impossible to replicate.
In regards to my readership, I'm just very lucky! I have patient and very helpful readers to point out my errors. I think it also helps that there is clear progression in Juliette's ranking up, and the Frieren-like nature of the arcs means it's easy to put down and pick up again.
Chapter 306: A Fated Reunion
A hoard of treasure.
Gemstones, jewellery and unassorted tableware. If it shone, it existed upon a heap of gold.
And that included a dragon.
A truly mesmerising sight. Each scale glimmered like a shard of pristine emerald, putting even the fairy tales to shame. Here was a being who would never know the threat of poverty and all the slightly larger than average strawberries it brought, for he himself was a symbol of wealth.
Literally so.
He was a walking, flying vault … and that meant I'd brook no excuses!
Indeed, one way or another, this dragon was going to contribute to the prosperity of my kingdom!
If he could take to the sky, he could take to the Royal Treasury. And I had little doubt my servants would desire nothing more than to catch the rapidly falling pieces of treasure, knowing as my tax inspectors safely retrieved them away that my joy was all the warmer for it.
A fine sight and a finer thought, both worthy of my most innocent smile.
There was just one small problem.
A blot so familiar it was the signature on every worthy endeavour.
Betrayal.
"My, how wonderful, Miss Fleur," I said to the clockwork librarian idling upon the dragon's snout. "... It is Fleur, yes? Or is it Fiore or Flora or–"
"It's Fleur."
"Excellent. Because I see loyalty is fragile no matter where I go. A welcome relief. It's wonderful to know only my time has been betrayed, not my expectations."
The girl offered a lively smile.
She ceased dangling her foot, instead swinging her legs up and down while casually booting the dragon's snout with her heels.
"I'm not sure what you're referring to. My loyalty is as durable as the enchanted steel I'm made from."
"Then it must have been enchanted by a hag to be so brittle. I note you appear to have grown restless from posing. Have you been waiting long?"
"Only from the exact moment I sent you to search for a heroine who I'm told is enjoying a holiday far from here. You appear to have lost your way."
"Quite so. I should be in my orchard measuring the bounciness index of the spring grass. Instead, I find myself here, forcing myself to wonder how I might have my horse carry this much gold up so many steps. Would you have a suggestion?"
"Yes. That you consider a different dilemma. This gold isn't yours. It is the property of the Hidden Library."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"My, then isn't it well I've a more fitting representative to grant it all to me? Two, in fact. A dragon who will doubtless be grateful to be rescued from his plight. And an assistant librarian who's sadly at threat of being promoted into an impending vacancy."
Coppelia, for her part, was silently eyeing the bound and helpless dragon before her.
She offered no words at the cruel sight. Indeed, she couldn't. Especially while she was clearly holding back a quivering finger while deliberating the ramifications of poking said bound and helpless dragon.
I nudged her with my elbow.
"Oooh, Fleur!" she said, only now peering up at her colleague. She wore the joyful expression of one as accustomed to betrayal as I was. A most fitting handmaiden. "You found the big guy!"
"I did. And you found the Other Library."
Coppelia pointed behind her.
"You mean the free slides?"
"I mean our greatest shame. This is where the works deemed unfitting for the main library are kept."
"... Like shopping lists?"
"Like shopping lists."
The smile didn't fall from the clockwork librarian's lips. But the blush on her cheeks lessened.
"Yet it doesn't end there. There are also household cleaning notes, haircut appointment reminders and random scribbles not even legible to whoever wrote them. All given as payment for frequenting our curated shelves, filled with knowledge stretching back to the first word."
"Really? I didn't know we accepted litter. Didn't we only take books as an admission fee?"
"Books by the famed and the illustrious. But how are we to know who will one day be a great wizard or a great hack? What is a shopping list today might contain the key to a working philosopher's stone in the future. Or so our master believes. And so this sad pit is needed to bury the tragedy which is our lax admittance rules, until one scribble might prove valuable a thousand years down the line."
Coppelia tilted her head in thought.
Then, she looked around her at the scattered bricks once more.
"Huh. Which meeting did we talk about this? Because I'm pretty sure I fell asleep."
"There was no meeting. And stop falling asleep."
"Oh, phew. So just regular secret stuff, then?"
"Regular secret stuff you're not told precisely because of this attitude. You started working in the library before I did, and you're still an assistant."
"Ahaha~ I try."
The younger librarian's smile quivered.
"Try in the other direction. If you want to know all the secrets of the library, you need to start taking your duties more seriously. The way you mess around doing who knows what in the muddiest, bleakest and saddest backwaters of the continent instead of your assigned task is unacceptable."
I gave a little gasp.
To think Coppelia's work involved straying into the Granholtz Embassy! When did that happen?
"Hey! I take my work seriously! I review every bakery I visit in the Coppelia Guidebook!"
"That isn't your job."
"Hmmmm~ are you sure? Because it sort of feels like our jobs are flexible. I thought yours was making sure the big guy takes his witch's brew so his snores don't shake the library. But you've gone ahead and added a bunch of chains which really don't look secure in the slightest as well. They must be comfortable. I don't hear a thing."
Fleur sat up a little straighter, the pride evident in the way she ceased swinging her legs.
"Naturally. Unlike yourself, I take my role seriously. Which is why I've been working hard to resolve all the issues the library currently faces."
"Really? Does that include the bottom floor bathroom? Because I'm tired of hearing the complaints just because humans are gross."
"Actually, yes. We're now finally able to afford hiring a plumber."
"... Eh? We have to pay someone?"
"Of course we have to pay someone. We have to pay everyone. Do you think our workers from Witschblume hike through a forest out of generosity? Or that the enchantments maintain themselves? Or the treants are fine with just eating intruders?"
"I mean, I figured that's what the free buffet table is for."
"The free buffet table isn't free. And I've decided to get rid of it. The library isn't a restaurant."
Coppelia gasped.
She stepped away, seeing at last the full extent of the betrayal before her.
"Oh boy. You're in trouble now. You know how much the big guy likes those cheap pancakes."
A girlish laugh filled the stale air.
"Trouble? Why would I be in trouble? I'm doing as I've been commanded. My role is to keep the library functional. Something my gift shop, my fundraisers and my enslaved overseer exploiting the minds and vulnerabilities of the very wealthy has allowed to happen."
"Well, you better be quick. You don't have much time to fix the bathroom before you get bonked."
"I have all the time in the world. Because the first issue I'm fixing is the most pressing."
Fleur pointed at the dragon beneath her. At last, her lively smile was erased.
"Him."
In response to the knitted brows, the ancient green dragon gave a whiff of a snore. Whatever words lost in time that meant, Coppelia could only agree with a shrug.
"Eehh, if he did something to annoy you, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know what he's like."
"I know exactly what he's like."
The girl with the pinafore dress raised herself, standing upon the dragon's snout.
She briefly peered behind her. The expression of distaste she wore as she took in the sight of the dragon was still stuck to her face as she turned to us.
"He is lazy," she declared. "Do you think this is some alchemist's concoction I've put him under? That I forced him into these chains? He is simply tired. From a short flight, no less. He's spent so long curled up in his lair that only a whisper of an unearthed 5th edition of The Arcane Atlus could rouse him. And this is the result. A slumber as though he's just burned down a minor town."
Fleur clenched her fists, trying and failing to quell her dissatisfaction.
In fact, she only seemed to grow more discontent.
"... Are you aware, Coppelia, of who our master was before he was called Virudaax the Learned?"
"No, and I feel like it'd be awkward to find out now. He's definitely been arrested for something weird."
"He's never been arrested."
"Are you sure? … Because sometimes I look at him and I think, yup, he's spent time behind bars."
"He's a dragon. He can't be arrested. And that's the whole point. He was Virudaax the Venomous."
"Ohhh … that was a real title? I just thought people called him that sometimes because he's grumpy."
"No. They call him that because he used to rule the skies over Witschblume with an iron claw. Now he can barely rule a library. A dragon without a hoard is a dragon without pride. That is an insult to someone so great. But the worst slight comes from himself. All he does is sleep and read and eat as he sees fit. Our master needs to work. He has not a speck of dignity. And I will see it restored."
Coppelia nodded.
Then, she turned to me with an enthusiastic smile.
"... Do you wanna do the thing now?"
I blinked in response … all the while clasping both hands tightly over my mouth as I struggled to hold back the wheeze.
After much effort, I summoned every inch of the trained actress in me to still my emotions. I sucked in a deep breath, felt my mind clear, then gingerly raised a palm.
"Please don't mind me. I'm holding back my judging laughter in respect of your right of priority. This is your colleague's inane scheme, after all."
"Oh, it's fine! You can go ahead!"
"Truly? … Very well, then."
I nodded as I instantly dropped a hand, shifting the other to only barely cover my smile.
And then–
"… Ohhohhohohohohho!!"
The mocking laughter reverberated throughout the cavern. Its echo was the only reply as the clockwork librarian offered a querying tilt of her head.
"Excuse me … but is something about this conversation amusing, adventurer?"
"It is. And I wouldn't dare insult your craft by implying otherwise. Tragic comedies are notoriously difficult to write. To possess the absolute worst reason for kidnapping a dragon while simultaneously earning my ire is a play unlike any I've had the chance to throw a rotten apple at. An impressive 6.5/10. Frankly, I had no idea Ouzelia's theatre scene was so developed. If you give me a moment, I will return with the worst apples my saddlebag has to offer."
"This is not a play."
"No? … And yet your overly dramatic line about your dragon lacking pride is particularly noteworthy."
I held up my finger, silencing the reply.
"You speak as if your dragon degrades himself. Rest assured, it's quite the opposite. By lazing, he displays he is above the expectations of those beneath him. That is pride. He does not need to be in the sky to rule any more than a king needs to be on a throne. He is and will always be a dragon. And the greatest insult is for one of his own subordinates to claim to know his wishes or needs."
The librarian's expression had not a hint of a permanently grateful hue to it.
That dropped her score to a 3.5/10. To pretend to be filled with gratitude for my remarks was a basic staple when being judged by me.
"You hold dragons in high regard. That is a mistake. They are as slovenly as the worst of us."
"Please. You may insult your employer, but not me. There is no us. I am in a league of my own. When it comes to my ability to curl up in my bed, not even a dragon can match me."
"Then it's just as well your influence will not affect him. When he wakes, he will take to the sky as he is meant to. As a dragon of old, earning both his keep and the respect of those around him."
I pointed helpfully at the very large dragon.
"Clearly, not all clockwork dolls are made equal. If you were, your eyes would see that you have as much means to force this dragon to fly as you do me."
The clockwork doll's smile returned in full.
Frankly, she was wasted in a library. To telegraph the exact moment she'd reveal the crux of her scheme meant she was better plying her trade in court.
"True … I cannot force him into any action." She gestured at my impending payment for dragon rescue services. "But gold can. For dragons who witness treasure do more than sleep on it. They covet it."
Coppelia clicked her fingers, understanding lighting up her face where boredom only filled mine.
"Ooh, I get it now! That's how you want to make him work again! … Goldlust!"
"Goldlust," repeated Fleur in satisfaction. "The disease all dragons fight. And for one who has not seen the corner of a treasure chest for centuries, the brightness of even a modest heap will overwhelm him like stars to a hermit. He will take to the sky as he once did, gathering all wealth towards him as his forgotten instincts compel him to."
Coppelia nodded fervently.
"Mmh, mmh~ that sounds terrible."
"So it will be for all those who have mocked him, even as they took advantage of his shelves."
"No, I mean, terrible as in not going to work. You know a hero's just going to come along, right?"
The almighty scoff which came was the only appropriate thing I'd heard all day.
"A hero? … Do you see what heroes are these days? They are not dragonslayers. They are diplomats. And they are predictable. Once a hero comes to calm the master from his goldlust, he will return as a dragon refreshed both in mind and in gold, for not even the bravest hero would dare separate a dragon from his riches. That would be moronic."
Clink.
I kneeled down to examine an amber garnet peeking out from the pile. Middling quality. But passable.
I popped it into my bottomless pouch.
"A novel plan," I said, generously ignoring the scandalised look towards me. "To drive your own dragon to madness. Unfortunately, I need him whole enough to agree to my demands. And your written confession will make for a mildly useful bargaining chip when I exploit him for my own ends."
I waited for her to begin fishing for a piece of parchment from the endless nearby piles.
She didn't. Yet.
"I think not," she replied. "You are a stranger here. You've no right to ask anything of a blade of grass."
"Incorrect. Every blade of grass currently owes me compensation for leeching off my warming presence. I intend to claim in full. Beginning with what you conveniently have available."
The librarian leaned slightly forwards. Her blasé expression answered before her words did.
"No," she said simply. "And I will not allow you to disrupt our master's awakening."
"If you've a single working cog, you shall. For the alternative is to raise arms against one of your own. You may be a terrible schemer, but I do not believe that your quest to cruelly lift this dragon from his deserved life of sloth means you would consider harming Coppelia. She is not only your co-worker, but also your less treasonous cousin for all I know."
Clap.
A flash of darkness filled the cavern. But it hadn't come from the clockwork doll in front of me.
Instead, I turned to see the sight of Coppelia innocently whistling as she hugged a giant scythe.
"Coppelia?!" I said, already grieving for the next few moments.
"Present~!"
"Why do you have your scythe out?!"
"Hm? Isn't this the bit where we normally beat each other up?"
"Yes, it is! But that's beside the point! Surely, there's an amicable solution which results in our complete victory which doesn't involve wanton violence against one of your own?"
"Ahahaha~ that boat's sailed aaaages ago."
Fleur gave a simple nod.
"It's true. Our training as librarians involve studious amounts of practical exercises in throwing out troublesome guests. Naturally, we practise with each other."
Ughhhhh.
I sent my groan towards the pinprick of a night sky peeking high through the cavern ceiling.
"... Fine. I see restraint is not on today's theatre programme. And what is your weapon, then? Do you also possess a giant shadowy scythe?"
"Only Coppelia has something ridiculous like that."
"Yeah," she replied. "Because I'm amazing."
I held out my palm, waiting for whatever ghastly answer which was still yet to be deposited.
"Very well, then. You don't misuse farming tools. What weapon do you abuse?"
"I don't have a weapon."
Clap.
The clockwork librarian brought her hands together.
However, there was no flash of engulfing darkness. No blade or spell answered her call.
Instead … it was something far, far worse.
"I have administrator access to the Clockwork Repository," she said, her hands separating to a black window as ominous as it was familiar. "That means my weapon is all the things stored inside."
I pursed my lips.
Few things gave me reason to pause. But the litany of … stuff which Coppelia put in that mysterious black box of hers were all of them.
Frankly, everything she'd ever tossed inside was a concern.
However … if I had to pick the absolute worst one, it was undoubtedly something she'd given over to the library itself. A thing so ghastly I needed to strain my mind to remember it.
Which is why–
I felt nothing but grief as a large, disembodied silhouette poked through the inky surface.
Scales as black as midnight. A row of serrated fangs, save for one which had been hacked off courtesy of an insane elven woman. And a pair of golden eyes simmering with all the shades of disdain, humiliation, fury and imminent satisfaction.
"Well now," said the wyvern head. "If it isn't the consequences of your actions."
The jaws tightened into an impression of a smile.
And then–
That black maw opened to a gathering ball of flames.
Gemstones, jewellery and unassorted tableware. If it shone, it existed upon a heap of gold.
And that included a dragon.
A truly mesmerising sight. Each scale glimmered like a shard of pristine emerald, putting even the fairy tales to shame. Here was a being who would never know the threat of poverty and all the slightly larger than average strawberries it brought, for he himself was a symbol of wealth.
Literally so.
He was a walking, flying vault … and that meant I'd brook no excuses!
Indeed, one way or another, this dragon was going to contribute to the prosperity of my kingdom!
If he could take to the sky, he could take to the Royal Treasury. And I had little doubt my servants would desire nothing more than to catch the rapidly falling pieces of treasure, knowing as my tax inspectors safely retrieved them away that my joy was all the warmer for it.
A fine sight and a finer thought, both worthy of my most innocent smile.
There was just one small problem.
A blot so familiar it was the signature on every worthy endeavour.
Betrayal.
"My, how wonderful, Miss Fleur," I said to the clockwork librarian idling upon the dragon's snout. "... It is Fleur, yes? Or is it Fiore or Flora or–"
"It's Fleur."
"Excellent. Because I see loyalty is fragile no matter where I go. A welcome relief. It's wonderful to know only my time has been betrayed, not my expectations."
The girl offered a lively smile.
She ceased dangling her foot, instead swinging her legs up and down while casually booting the dragon's snout with her heels.
"I'm not sure what you're referring to. My loyalty is as durable as the enchanted steel I'm made from."
"Then it must have been enchanted by a hag to be so brittle. I note you appear to have grown restless from posing. Have you been waiting long?"
"Only from the exact moment I sent you to search for a heroine who I'm told is enjoying a holiday far from here. You appear to have lost your way."
"Quite so. I should be in my orchard measuring the bounciness index of the spring grass. Instead, I find myself here, forcing myself to wonder how I might have my horse carry this much gold up so many steps. Would you have a suggestion?"
"Yes. That you consider a different dilemma. This gold isn't yours. It is the property of the Hidden Library."
I clapped my hands in delight.
"My, then isn't it well I've a more fitting representative to grant it all to me? Two, in fact. A dragon who will doubtless be grateful to be rescued from his plight. And an assistant librarian who's sadly at threat of being promoted into an impending vacancy."
Coppelia, for her part, was silently eyeing the bound and helpless dragon before her.
She offered no words at the cruel sight. Indeed, she couldn't. Especially while she was clearly holding back a quivering finger while deliberating the ramifications of poking said bound and helpless dragon.
I nudged her with my elbow.
"Oooh, Fleur!" she said, only now peering up at her colleague. She wore the joyful expression of one as accustomed to betrayal as I was. A most fitting handmaiden. "You found the big guy!"
"I did. And you found the Other Library."
Coppelia pointed behind her.
"You mean the free slides?"
"I mean our greatest shame. This is where the works deemed unfitting for the main library are kept."
"... Like shopping lists?"
"Like shopping lists."
The smile didn't fall from the clockwork librarian's lips. But the blush on her cheeks lessened.
"Yet it doesn't end there. There are also household cleaning notes, haircut appointment reminders and random scribbles not even legible to whoever wrote them. All given as payment for frequenting our curated shelves, filled with knowledge stretching back to the first word."
"Really? I didn't know we accepted litter. Didn't we only take books as an admission fee?"
"Books by the famed and the illustrious. But how are we to know who will one day be a great wizard or a great hack? What is a shopping list today might contain the key to a working philosopher's stone in the future. Or so our master believes. And so this sad pit is needed to bury the tragedy which is our lax admittance rules, until one scribble might prove valuable a thousand years down the line."
Coppelia tilted her head in thought.
Then, she looked around her at the scattered bricks once more.
"Huh. Which meeting did we talk about this? Because I'm pretty sure I fell asleep."
"There was no meeting. And stop falling asleep."
"Oh, phew. So just regular secret stuff, then?"
"Regular secret stuff you're not told precisely because of this attitude. You started working in the library before I did, and you're still an assistant."
"Ahaha~ I try."
The younger librarian's smile quivered.
"Try in the other direction. If you want to know all the secrets of the library, you need to start taking your duties more seriously. The way you mess around doing who knows what in the muddiest, bleakest and saddest backwaters of the continent instead of your assigned task is unacceptable."
I gave a little gasp.
To think Coppelia's work involved straying into the Granholtz Embassy! When did that happen?
"Hey! I take my work seriously! I review every bakery I visit in the Coppelia Guidebook!"
"That isn't your job."
"Hmmmm~ are you sure? Because it sort of feels like our jobs are flexible. I thought yours was making sure the big guy takes his witch's brew so his snores don't shake the library. But you've gone ahead and added a bunch of chains which really don't look secure in the slightest as well. They must be comfortable. I don't hear a thing."
Fleur sat up a little straighter, the pride evident in the way she ceased swinging her legs.
"Naturally. Unlike yourself, I take my role seriously. Which is why I've been working hard to resolve all the issues the library currently faces."
"Really? Does that include the bottom floor bathroom? Because I'm tired of hearing the complaints just because humans are gross."
"Actually, yes. We're now finally able to afford hiring a plumber."
"... Eh? We have to pay someone?"
"Of course we have to pay someone. We have to pay everyone. Do you think our workers from Witschblume hike through a forest out of generosity? Or that the enchantments maintain themselves? Or the treants are fine with just eating intruders?"
"I mean, I figured that's what the free buffet table is for."
"The free buffet table isn't free. And I've decided to get rid of it. The library isn't a restaurant."
Coppelia gasped.
She stepped away, seeing at last the full extent of the betrayal before her.
"Oh boy. You're in trouble now. You know how much the big guy likes those cheap pancakes."
A girlish laugh filled the stale air.
"Trouble? Why would I be in trouble? I'm doing as I've been commanded. My role is to keep the library functional. Something my gift shop, my fundraisers and my enslaved overseer exploiting the minds and vulnerabilities of the very wealthy has allowed to happen."
"Well, you better be quick. You don't have much time to fix the bathroom before you get bonked."
"I have all the time in the world. Because the first issue I'm fixing is the most pressing."
Fleur pointed at the dragon beneath her. At last, her lively smile was erased.
"Him."
In response to the knitted brows, the ancient green dragon gave a whiff of a snore. Whatever words lost in time that meant, Coppelia could only agree with a shrug.
"Eehh, if he did something to annoy you, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know what he's like."
"I know exactly what he's like."
The girl with the pinafore dress raised herself, standing upon the dragon's snout.
She briefly peered behind her. The expression of distaste she wore as she took in the sight of the dragon was still stuck to her face as she turned to us.
"He is lazy," she declared. "Do you think this is some alchemist's concoction I've put him under? That I forced him into these chains? He is simply tired. From a short flight, no less. He's spent so long curled up in his lair that only a whisper of an unearthed 5th edition of The Arcane Atlus could rouse him. And this is the result. A slumber as though he's just burned down a minor town."
Fleur clenched her fists, trying and failing to quell her dissatisfaction.
In fact, she only seemed to grow more discontent.
"... Are you aware, Coppelia, of who our master was before he was called Virudaax the Learned?"
"No, and I feel like it'd be awkward to find out now. He's definitely been arrested for something weird."
"He's never been arrested."
"Are you sure? … Because sometimes I look at him and I think, yup, he's spent time behind bars."
"He's a dragon. He can't be arrested. And that's the whole point. He was Virudaax the Venomous."
"Ohhh … that was a real title? I just thought people called him that sometimes because he's grumpy."
"No. They call him that because he used to rule the skies over Witschblume with an iron claw. Now he can barely rule a library. A dragon without a hoard is a dragon without pride. That is an insult to someone so great. But the worst slight comes from himself. All he does is sleep and read and eat as he sees fit. Our master needs to work. He has not a speck of dignity. And I will see it restored."
Coppelia nodded.
Then, she turned to me with an enthusiastic smile.
"... Do you wanna do the thing now?"
I blinked in response … all the while clasping both hands tightly over my mouth as I struggled to hold back the wheeze.
After much effort, I summoned every inch of the trained actress in me to still my emotions. I sucked in a deep breath, felt my mind clear, then gingerly raised a palm.
"Please don't mind me. I'm holding back my judging laughter in respect of your right of priority. This is your colleague's inane scheme, after all."
"Oh, it's fine! You can go ahead!"
"Truly? … Very well, then."
I nodded as I instantly dropped a hand, shifting the other to only barely cover my smile.
And then–
"… Ohhohhohohohohho!!"
The mocking laughter reverberated throughout the cavern. Its echo was the only reply as the clockwork librarian offered a querying tilt of her head.
"Excuse me … but is something about this conversation amusing, adventurer?"
"It is. And I wouldn't dare insult your craft by implying otherwise. Tragic comedies are notoriously difficult to write. To possess the absolute worst reason for kidnapping a dragon while simultaneously earning my ire is a play unlike any I've had the chance to throw a rotten apple at. An impressive 6.5/10. Frankly, I had no idea Ouzelia's theatre scene was so developed. If you give me a moment, I will return with the worst apples my saddlebag has to offer."
"This is not a play."
"No? … And yet your overly dramatic line about your dragon lacking pride is particularly noteworthy."
I held up my finger, silencing the reply.
"You speak as if your dragon degrades himself. Rest assured, it's quite the opposite. By lazing, he displays he is above the expectations of those beneath him. That is pride. He does not need to be in the sky to rule any more than a king needs to be on a throne. He is and will always be a dragon. And the greatest insult is for one of his own subordinates to claim to know his wishes or needs."
The librarian's expression had not a hint of a permanently grateful hue to it.
That dropped her score to a 3.5/10. To pretend to be filled with gratitude for my remarks was a basic staple when being judged by me.
"You hold dragons in high regard. That is a mistake. They are as slovenly as the worst of us."
"Please. You may insult your employer, but not me. There is no us. I am in a league of my own. When it comes to my ability to curl up in my bed, not even a dragon can match me."
"Then it's just as well your influence will not affect him. When he wakes, he will take to the sky as he is meant to. As a dragon of old, earning both his keep and the respect of those around him."
I pointed helpfully at the very large dragon.
"Clearly, not all clockwork dolls are made equal. If you were, your eyes would see that you have as much means to force this dragon to fly as you do me."
The clockwork doll's smile returned in full.
Frankly, she was wasted in a library. To telegraph the exact moment she'd reveal the crux of her scheme meant she was better plying her trade in court.
"True … I cannot force him into any action." She gestured at my impending payment for dragon rescue services. "But gold can. For dragons who witness treasure do more than sleep on it. They covet it."
Coppelia clicked her fingers, understanding lighting up her face where boredom only filled mine.
"Ooh, I get it now! That's how you want to make him work again! … Goldlust!"
"Goldlust," repeated Fleur in satisfaction. "The disease all dragons fight. And for one who has not seen the corner of a treasure chest for centuries, the brightness of even a modest heap will overwhelm him like stars to a hermit. He will take to the sky as he once did, gathering all wealth towards him as his forgotten instincts compel him to."
Coppelia nodded fervently.
"Mmh, mmh~ that sounds terrible."
"So it will be for all those who have mocked him, even as they took advantage of his shelves."
"No, I mean, terrible as in not going to work. You know a hero's just going to come along, right?"
The almighty scoff which came was the only appropriate thing I'd heard all day.
"A hero? … Do you see what heroes are these days? They are not dragonslayers. They are diplomats. And they are predictable. Once a hero comes to calm the master from his goldlust, he will return as a dragon refreshed both in mind and in gold, for not even the bravest hero would dare separate a dragon from his riches. That would be moronic."
Clink.
I kneeled down to examine an amber garnet peeking out from the pile. Middling quality. But passable.
I popped it into my bottomless pouch.
"A novel plan," I said, generously ignoring the scandalised look towards me. "To drive your own dragon to madness. Unfortunately, I need him whole enough to agree to my demands. And your written confession will make for a mildly useful bargaining chip when I exploit him for my own ends."
I waited for her to begin fishing for a piece of parchment from the endless nearby piles.
She didn't. Yet.
"I think not," she replied. "You are a stranger here. You've no right to ask anything of a blade of grass."
"Incorrect. Every blade of grass currently owes me compensation for leeching off my warming presence. I intend to claim in full. Beginning with what you conveniently have available."
The librarian leaned slightly forwards. Her blasé expression answered before her words did.
"No," she said simply. "And I will not allow you to disrupt our master's awakening."
"If you've a single working cog, you shall. For the alternative is to raise arms against one of your own. You may be a terrible schemer, but I do not believe that your quest to cruelly lift this dragon from his deserved life of sloth means you would consider harming Coppelia. She is not only your co-worker, but also your less treasonous cousin for all I know."
Clap.
A flash of darkness filled the cavern. But it hadn't come from the clockwork doll in front of me.
Instead, I turned to see the sight of Coppelia innocently whistling as she hugged a giant scythe.
"Coppelia?!" I said, already grieving for the next few moments.
"Present~!"
"Why do you have your scythe out?!"
"Hm? Isn't this the bit where we normally beat each other up?"
"Yes, it is! But that's beside the point! Surely, there's an amicable solution which results in our complete victory which doesn't involve wanton violence against one of your own?"
"Ahahaha~ that boat's sailed aaaages ago."
Fleur gave a simple nod.
"It's true. Our training as librarians involve studious amounts of practical exercises in throwing out troublesome guests. Naturally, we practise with each other."
Ughhhhh.
I sent my groan towards the pinprick of a night sky peeking high through the cavern ceiling.
"... Fine. I see restraint is not on today's theatre programme. And what is your weapon, then? Do you also possess a giant shadowy scythe?"
"Only Coppelia has something ridiculous like that."
"Yeah," she replied. "Because I'm amazing."
I held out my palm, waiting for whatever ghastly answer which was still yet to be deposited.
"Very well, then. You don't misuse farming tools. What weapon do you abuse?"
"I don't have a weapon."
Clap.
The clockwork librarian brought her hands together.
However, there was no flash of engulfing darkness. No blade or spell answered her call.
Instead … it was something far, far worse.
"I have administrator access to the Clockwork Repository," she said, her hands separating to a black window as ominous as it was familiar. "That means my weapon is all the things stored inside."
I pursed my lips.
Few things gave me reason to pause. But the litany of … stuff which Coppelia put in that mysterious black box of hers were all of them.
Frankly, everything she'd ever tossed inside was a concern.
However … if I had to pick the absolute worst one, it was undoubtedly something she'd given over to the library itself. A thing so ghastly I needed to strain my mind to remember it.
Which is why–
I felt nothing but grief as a large, disembodied silhouette poked through the inky surface.
Scales as black as midnight. A row of serrated fangs, save for one which had been hacked off courtesy of an insane elven woman. And a pair of golden eyes simmering with all the shades of disdain, humiliation, fury and imminent satisfaction.
"Well now," said the wyvern head. "If it isn't the consequences of your actions."
The jaws tightened into an impression of a smile.
And then–
That black maw opened to a gathering ball of flames.
Last edited:
- Location
- Texas
I hate it when opponents confront me with the consequences of my own actions.
However, bringing a small fraction of a wyvern to a dragon fight seems poorly conceived. A fraction of a wyvern already defeated once by Juliette and Coppelia, for that matter.
It means they've already got a head start on winning this fight. And then Fleur will have nobody to help with her scheme.
However, bringing a small fraction of a wyvern to a dragon fight seems poorly conceived. A fraction of a wyvern already defeated once by Juliette and Coppelia, for that matter.
It means they've already got a head start on winning this fight. And then Fleur will have nobody to help with her scheme.
Juliette believes in second chances! Everybody deserves another opportunity to craft soap!
- Location
- Argentina
"Ohohoho! You think a monster I already defeated is gonna be more dangerous as just a head?"
Last edited:
Chapter 307: Early Dawn
I stepped back.
And then I stepped back again.
Again and again, I sought to retreat until I'd found a path leading me to the sanctuary that was my kingdom. Or if not that, a patisserie which I've never once visited but where I can still ask for the usual and be served exactly what I wished. I wasn't picky.
Sadly, it was to no avail.
Despite taking as many as three and a half steps back, Ouzelia and its many horrors remained firmly in my sight. And currently, they were all the same thing.
A foe I never expected.
For even in my worst nightmares regarding this land of oddballs, I could never have predicted to meet an adversary so far beyond my ability to comprehend.
Yes.
It was this ...
"Heheh heh heh … hahahah hahahahah!"
A foe I'd already defeated before!
My knees quivered as my hands alternated between covering my mouth and my eyes.
I could have worn a blanket over my face. It wouldn't have been enough to hide the gall I was feeling, nor the horror I was currently seeing.
Such... Such shamelessness!
There was disregard to common decency! And then there was this!
Tactlessness beyond even what a knight left unsupervised by a wary father for 5 minutes in the countryside could do! As a gentle princess with a heavily armed battleship to my name, such a flagrant insult to decorum was beyond my ability to fathom!
Pwooooosh.
Indeed!
As a ball of molten fury hurled, no, spat disgustingly past my shoulder, I could not even spare a glance at the explosion of parchment behind me. As the embers rushed past the archway and tickled my back, all I saw was the maddened glint of impropriety coming from a wyvern head's eyes.
I was horrified.
"I see you've learned how to tremble. A sight as sweet as the justice to come. Know that while I am quelled, I am undefeated. Even in hardship and strife, I persevere. A living talisman to the tenacity of elvenkind, I remain the greatest wordswordswordswords …"
And then … I saw the truth of it.
Perhaps another princess would have fainted at the wanton lack of shame. But beyond the boasts which failed to enter my ears, I knew that not even the greatest of weeds could survive if so withered and broken as this fallen schemer was.
Not unless it was permitted to by the newly sprouting vines around it.
"How … How dare you!" I said to the clockwork librarian. She smiled as she practically held up her hostage, no differently than a puppeteer in a circus. "To use a foe I've already defeated is both callous and cruel! This nameless commoner with no distinguishable characteristics clearly lacks the minimum requirements to be a recurring villain, yet you force him out of his corner of shame for his pride to be trampled once again!"
"Nameless commoner! I am Eucion of the Stars, and I will–"
"You will do as you're told," interrupted Fluer, her tone less sweet than her smile. "And that is to breathe fire. Now."
The wyvern head said nothing.
Instead, the golden eyes narrowed for a moment, before its maw obediently widened to a hint of flames.
I was aghast.
"Wha– I thought you were merely stepping on him! But to have trained this peasant into being a jester's flaming brand is to stuff him beneath the carpet first! His pride cannot even be seen!"
"This is simply an agreement! One I would have done freely if I knew vengeance would come so swiftly!"
I couldn't arrange my face to appear appalled enough. Lacking wrinkles or blemishes, there was only so much I could do.
"Look at this!" I said, gesturing towards the pitiable sight. "The commoner is so bereft of wits he believes an agreement with someone in the middle of kidnapping their own employer holds any merit! How could you possibly derive satisfaction from someone so hapless he could not even be trusted to spill wine over the correct dignitary's lap?"
The wyvern head shook with indignation. And yet with all the guile of a baron at court realising his very first betrayal, he slowly tilted himself towards his conjurer.
The librarian raised a brow.
"Could you please not overtly attempt to distract my portable flame apparatus? I've been told you are wholly responsible for his current predicament. It's outrageous to try to claim gall on his behalf."
"I am only responsible for guiding the commoner onto the path of humility. Why, it is an utter scandal that my hard work is at threat of being undone so carelessly!"
"Please. You did nothing. I was the one who had to process him. I had to invent an entire category for archdruids dispossessed of a body. And then I had to arbitrate between all the different departments who wanted him. My ears are still ringing from the complaints when I opted to study him myself."
"I ... I feel like I'm being spoken about while also ignored."
"What are you studying? Ways for him to degrade himself lower than he already is? Frankly, you've already outdone yourself. He no longer qualifies as even a wyvern, but a sub-wyvern."
"There is no such thing as a sub-wyvern."
"A sub-wyvern is one whose sense of worth can only reduce once he is inevitably betrayed. How will you take responsibility for the rise in sea levels from all the tears? A bucket, perhaps?"
"To be honest, these have been a few very difficult weeks and I haven't had anyone to talk to."
"There will be no bucket. I've no intention of betraying him."
I pointed at my eyes.
"Assume they are rolling. Because if a confession could come with a tagline, that would be it. Of course you intend to betray him. It's what he would do in the exact same situation. And if he had even an inkling of wits remaining, he would instead turn to betray you first in the certain knowledge that my passing amusement is the only thing which could see him released onto an island paradise where he may scheme in peace between heating soap mixtures. A significant improvement over life as a candle."
The clockwork librarian blinked. As did the sub-wyvern.
No recriminations or defence needed to be offered. It was a point which humoured no argument.
Slowly, a newly enlightened commoner turned towards his own jailer.
"The human is, at least, brazenly upfront regarding her wickedness."
The unimpressed frown which answered was without either surprise or remorse.
"You will be punished for this," she said simply.
The sub-wyvern's maw opened to a fresh bout of flames.
The window to the abyss shut at once as indignation lashed out in flame form.
The clockwork librarian huffed as a single strand of her luminous pink hair was singed. She batted the smoke away and sent an unamused glare towards me, her hair now having been harmed beyond measure.
"I hope that was worth it," she said simply.
"It was, yes. And not just for avoiding the threat of defeating the same foe twice. After all, if I only wished to preserve my dignity, I would have ignored his existence altogether."
Her lips parted to ask the most dangerous question.
She had enough sense to clamp them shut. But not enough to stop the clockwork doll who'd slowly sneaked her way over via the tail of a dragon.
Fleur swept around at once.
It was still too late.
"[Coppelia Lead Roundhouse Spinning Back Kick Triple Hit Super Combo]!"
Bwooomph!
Hurtling faster than any fireball spat in defiance of both hygiene and the lack of a throat, a blur of a chestnut pinafore dress mixed with a dash of pink was all I saw as Coppelia sent her errant co-worker into the newest hole in a cavern wall. It was covered at once by a veil of dust and shattering stone, a crunch filling the air as the younger librarian's figure was entirely lost within the hard stone.
My mouth widened.
"Coppelia … was that my sister's technique?"
"Sure was! I've been practising it! Mostly in bakeries! It keeps me and the queue moving!"
I hopped on the spot, clapping in delight.
My, I had no idea! To think Florella's delicate stress relieving exercise routine for both mind and body was being propagated! Here was the start of something fashionable!
"An excellent choice! Why, each backwards strike of the heel was the spitting image of my sister's kindness! Your colleague now appears to be so ashamed that she's hiding inside the literal mountain!"
"Ahaha~ it was only perfect," she said with a modest wave. "But even if it was more than perfect, that's still nowhere near enough to keep Fleur in place."
I blinked.
Then, I turned to the hole with my sword raised. Yet despite the illuminating glare, nothing could be seen within the deep recess where a clockwork doll had now scarpered.
"Are you certain? Because this is a rather larger hole than those you've made yourself. And even you couldn't immediately return to spring health after such an impact … right?"
"Well, it'd definitely mean a few squeaky cogs afterwards. But Fleur is special. She's really tough. Not even bonks to the head faze her."
"... Perhaps bonks to the head are the problem if that's the reason why she's now as she is?"
"True." Coppelia raised her Scythe. "Or she could just be dumb in her own way, which is why now feels like–"
Bwoomph!
A chunk of the wall came in answer.
Expanding the hole, a veritable boulder was sent towards Coppelia, only to be cleanly cleaved by a waiting scythe in two equal halves.
A warning which went unignored.
Before the dust could decide whether it wished to rise or settle, a librarian whose pinafore dress now boasted a single wrinkle leapt with a blasé smile.
"My turn," said Fleur, pink hair and frilly hem both billowing behind as her hands came together.
Clap.
The blackened window appeared for only the briefest of moments.
It was enough to tear an emerald pommel, an embossed hilt and a gleaming blade from the abyss. A sword so radiant it formed ripples in the inky surface as it joined Starlight Grace in ushering the darkness away.
Only the shadows surrounding the scythe coming to meet her were undiminished. Yet this was a point more to the ominousness of Coppelia's weapon than a slight against the sword.
Indeed, even I had to admit it was rather fetching.
A work which surpassed even elven masterwork. Steel which gleamed like purest silver almost as much as my own. This was no sword crafted for a commoner's hands.
In fact–
It was startlingly similar to the heirloom swords of my family.
Slim yet durable. Radiant even without the magic which ringed it. Elegant but practical.
Yes.
This sword was very similar to my own.
Because as my eyes widened and nothing but a gasp left my lips, I saw a sword which had last been used to shoo away a knight by batting him in the kneecap because his compliments did not rhyme.
Its name–
Dawning Summer.
And it was chosen as the replacement for the sword now in my care.
… By Grandmother.
And then I stepped back again.
Again and again, I sought to retreat until I'd found a path leading me to the sanctuary that was my kingdom. Or if not that, a patisserie which I've never once visited but where I can still ask for the usual and be served exactly what I wished. I wasn't picky.
Sadly, it was to no avail.
Despite taking as many as three and a half steps back, Ouzelia and its many horrors remained firmly in my sight. And currently, they were all the same thing.
A foe I never expected.
For even in my worst nightmares regarding this land of oddballs, I could never have predicted to meet an adversary so far beyond my ability to comprehend.
Yes.
It was this ...
"Heheh heh heh … hahahah hahahahah!"
A foe I'd already defeated before!
My knees quivered as my hands alternated between covering my mouth and my eyes.
I could have worn a blanket over my face. It wouldn't have been enough to hide the gall I was feeling, nor the horror I was currently seeing.
Such... Such shamelessness!
There was disregard to common decency! And then there was this!
Tactlessness beyond even what a knight left unsupervised by a wary father for 5 minutes in the countryside could do! As a gentle princess with a heavily armed battleship to my name, such a flagrant insult to decorum was beyond my ability to fathom!
Pwooooosh.
Indeed!
As a ball of molten fury hurled, no, spat disgustingly past my shoulder, I could not even spare a glance at the explosion of parchment behind me. As the embers rushed past the archway and tickled my back, all I saw was the maddened glint of impropriety coming from a wyvern head's eyes.
I was horrified.
"I see you've learned how to tremble. A sight as sweet as the justice to come. Know that while I am quelled, I am undefeated. Even in hardship and strife, I persevere. A living talisman to the tenacity of elvenkind, I remain the greatest wordswordswordswords …"
And then … I saw the truth of it.
Perhaps another princess would have fainted at the wanton lack of shame. But beyond the boasts which failed to enter my ears, I knew that not even the greatest of weeds could survive if so withered and broken as this fallen schemer was.
Not unless it was permitted to by the newly sprouting vines around it.
"How … How dare you!" I said to the clockwork librarian. She smiled as she practically held up her hostage, no differently than a puppeteer in a circus. "To use a foe I've already defeated is both callous and cruel! This nameless commoner with no distinguishable characteristics clearly lacks the minimum requirements to be a recurring villain, yet you force him out of his corner of shame for his pride to be trampled once again!"
"Nameless commoner! I am Eucion of the Stars, and I will–"
"You will do as you're told," interrupted Fluer, her tone less sweet than her smile. "And that is to breathe fire. Now."
The wyvern head said nothing.
Instead, the golden eyes narrowed for a moment, before its maw obediently widened to a hint of flames.
I was aghast.
"Wha– I thought you were merely stepping on him! But to have trained this peasant into being a jester's flaming brand is to stuff him beneath the carpet first! His pride cannot even be seen!"
"This is simply an agreement! One I would have done freely if I knew vengeance would come so swiftly!"
I couldn't arrange my face to appear appalled enough. Lacking wrinkles or blemishes, there was only so much I could do.
"Look at this!" I said, gesturing towards the pitiable sight. "The commoner is so bereft of wits he believes an agreement with someone in the middle of kidnapping their own employer holds any merit! How could you possibly derive satisfaction from someone so hapless he could not even be trusted to spill wine over the correct dignitary's lap?"
The wyvern head shook with indignation. And yet with all the guile of a baron at court realising his very first betrayal, he slowly tilted himself towards his conjurer.
The librarian raised a brow.
"Could you please not overtly attempt to distract my portable flame apparatus? I've been told you are wholly responsible for his current predicament. It's outrageous to try to claim gall on his behalf."
"I am only responsible for guiding the commoner onto the path of humility. Why, it is an utter scandal that my hard work is at threat of being undone so carelessly!"
"Please. You did nothing. I was the one who had to process him. I had to invent an entire category for archdruids dispossessed of a body. And then I had to arbitrate between all the different departments who wanted him. My ears are still ringing from the complaints when I opted to study him myself."
"I ... I feel like I'm being spoken about while also ignored."
"What are you studying? Ways for him to degrade himself lower than he already is? Frankly, you've already outdone yourself. He no longer qualifies as even a wyvern, but a sub-wyvern."
"There is no such thing as a sub-wyvern."
"A sub-wyvern is one whose sense of worth can only reduce once he is inevitably betrayed. How will you take responsibility for the rise in sea levels from all the tears? A bucket, perhaps?"
"To be honest, these have been a few very difficult weeks and I haven't had anyone to talk to."
"There will be no bucket. I've no intention of betraying him."
I pointed at my eyes.
"Assume they are rolling. Because if a confession could come with a tagline, that would be it. Of course you intend to betray him. It's what he would do in the exact same situation. And if he had even an inkling of wits remaining, he would instead turn to betray you first in the certain knowledge that my passing amusement is the only thing which could see him released onto an island paradise where he may scheme in peace between heating soap mixtures. A significant improvement over life as a candle."
The clockwork librarian blinked. As did the sub-wyvern.
No recriminations or defence needed to be offered. It was a point which humoured no argument.
Slowly, a newly enlightened commoner turned towards his own jailer.
"The human is, at least, brazenly upfront regarding her wickedness."
The unimpressed frown which answered was without either surprise or remorse.
"You will be punished for this," she said simply.
The sub-wyvern's maw opened to a fresh bout of flames.
The window to the abyss shut at once as indignation lashed out in flame form.
The clockwork librarian huffed as a single strand of her luminous pink hair was singed. She batted the smoke away and sent an unamused glare towards me, her hair now having been harmed beyond measure.
"I hope that was worth it," she said simply.
"It was, yes. And not just for avoiding the threat of defeating the same foe twice. After all, if I only wished to preserve my dignity, I would have ignored his existence altogether."
Her lips parted to ask the most dangerous question.
She had enough sense to clamp them shut. But not enough to stop the clockwork doll who'd slowly sneaked her way over via the tail of a dragon.
Fleur swept around at once.
It was still too late.
"[Coppelia Lead Roundhouse Spinning Back Kick Triple Hit Super Combo]!"
Bwooomph!
Hurtling faster than any fireball spat in defiance of both hygiene and the lack of a throat, a blur of a chestnut pinafore dress mixed with a dash of pink was all I saw as Coppelia sent her errant co-worker into the newest hole in a cavern wall. It was covered at once by a veil of dust and shattering stone, a crunch filling the air as the younger librarian's figure was entirely lost within the hard stone.
My mouth widened.
"Coppelia … was that my sister's technique?"
"Sure was! I've been practising it! Mostly in bakeries! It keeps me and the queue moving!"
I hopped on the spot, clapping in delight.
My, I had no idea! To think Florella's delicate stress relieving exercise routine for both mind and body was being propagated! Here was the start of something fashionable!
"An excellent choice! Why, each backwards strike of the heel was the spitting image of my sister's kindness! Your colleague now appears to be so ashamed that she's hiding inside the literal mountain!"
"Ahaha~ it was only perfect," she said with a modest wave. "But even if it was more than perfect, that's still nowhere near enough to keep Fleur in place."
I blinked.
Then, I turned to the hole with my sword raised. Yet despite the illuminating glare, nothing could be seen within the deep recess where a clockwork doll had now scarpered.
"Are you certain? Because this is a rather larger hole than those you've made yourself. And even you couldn't immediately return to spring health after such an impact … right?"
"Well, it'd definitely mean a few squeaky cogs afterwards. But Fleur is special. She's really tough. Not even bonks to the head faze her."
"... Perhaps bonks to the head are the problem if that's the reason why she's now as she is?"
"True." Coppelia raised her Scythe. "Or she could just be dumb in her own way, which is why now feels like–"
Bwoomph!
A chunk of the wall came in answer.
Expanding the hole, a veritable boulder was sent towards Coppelia, only to be cleanly cleaved by a waiting scythe in two equal halves.
A warning which went unignored.
Before the dust could decide whether it wished to rise or settle, a librarian whose pinafore dress now boasted a single wrinkle leapt with a blasé smile.
"My turn," said Fleur, pink hair and frilly hem both billowing behind as her hands came together.
Clap.
The blackened window appeared for only the briefest of moments.
It was enough to tear an emerald pommel, an embossed hilt and a gleaming blade from the abyss. A sword so radiant it formed ripples in the inky surface as it joined Starlight Grace in ushering the darkness away.
Only the shadows surrounding the scythe coming to meet her were undiminished. Yet this was a point more to the ominousness of Coppelia's weapon than a slight against the sword.
Indeed, even I had to admit it was rather fetching.
A work which surpassed even elven masterwork. Steel which gleamed like purest silver almost as much as my own. This was no sword crafted for a commoner's hands.
In fact–
It was startlingly similar to the heirloom swords of my family.
Slim yet durable. Radiant even without the magic which ringed it. Elegant but practical.
Yes.
This sword was very similar to my own.
Because as my eyes widened and nothing but a gasp left my lips, I saw a sword which had last been used to shoo away a knight by batting him in the kneecap because his compliments did not rhyme.
Its name–
Dawning Summer.
And it was chosen as the replacement for the sword now in my care.
… By Grandmother.
Last edited:
- Location
- Elsewhere
Uhh... is it just me, or is this sentence kinda nonsensical? Like, I think it's implying that the sword Fluer took out was given to the Juliette as a replacement after she was given her current sword? Meaning she was given two swords?
A very clumsy sentence. I've fixed it ... I hope!