Lucian T. Einar | Patreon

"What's going on here?" Joanne heard someone say as she approached the end of the hallway. The urgency in the voice pulled her attention like a magnetic force.

Joanne, seasoned in the art of stealth, halted in her tracks, quickly concealing herself behind a corner. Eavesdropping on the conversation unfolding ahead, she strained to discern the voices.

"Where is everybody? Where's Habondia? Where's Lady Sains?" The words cut through the air, voiced by Dana, Gisèle, and Maaya. The three apprentices, usually composed, now exhibited signs of anxiety. Dana, in particular, teetering on the edge of frantic, her tiptoeing and fidgeting betraying a sense of unease.

"Weren't we just supposed to introduce ourselves to Habondia and everybody else and then, I don't know... go home? Now, there's a bunch of people here who interrupted our meeting and want to kill us. I mean, what's going on here?" Dana's words conveyed confusion and fear.

The atmosphere tightened as the apprentices grappled with the sudden turn of events. Joanne recognized this as her opportunity to take decisive action. The mission to eliminate Dana, Flavia Sains' apprentice, was clear. DeVries, Sains, and Du Bellay were already dealt with—connections to Völundr that had become too perilous to ignore. She still needed to take care of the apprentices.

However, Joanne couldn't risk alerting Maaya and Gisèle of her plans. They were apprentices to some of Habondia's oldest and closest friends, untainted by association with Völundr. Marijke, Athéné, and the others would surely intervene. The delicate dance of alliances and secrets forced Joanne to tread carefully.

Summoning her resolve, Joanne emerged from her cover. The sudden appearance startled the three apprentices, and they jumped in fear.

"What are you doing here?" Joanne questioned, her tone steady and unyielding.

"We were just wondering why everybody left. We can't find anybody else. We don't know what to do. We don't know where to go. We are so afraid!" Maaya confessed, her voice trembling with anxiety.

"Where is Lady Habondia? Where did she go?" Gisèle interrupted, her worry palpable.

"I haven't seen my mentor either. Where is she?" Dana pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.

"Let's find out then, I'm also looking for Habondia," Joanne said. In a flourish of magic, she summoned a clone by her side. The subtle gasps from the apprentices echoed in the corridor.

"That's a sweet spell," Maaya remarked, her spirits lifting slightly. Joanne couldn't help but smirk at the comment.

"We might need to separate into two groups and cover a bigger area," Joanne said.

The apprentices nodded.

“Maaya, Gisèle, follow my clone and go right. Dana, follow me,” Joanne commanded, her instructions ringing through the corridor.

Maaya and Gisèle obediently followed Joanne’s clone, veering to the right at the end of the vestibule, their steps echoing in the empty hallway. Joanne, with Dana in tow, retraced her path going back to where she came from, determined to cover ground methodically.

Silence hung in the air as Joanne navigated the labyrinthine corridors. Shadows danced on the walls, casting an eerie ambiance, and the decay caused by growing weeds seemed to keep Dana startled. And as the apprentice struggled to match Joanne's pace, she finally broke the silence.

"Why are we going this way? Shouldn't we follow the others?" Dana's voice carried a hint of uncertainty as she trailed Joanne through the labyrinthine corridors for about ten minutes.

Joanne halted, turning to face Dana. The dim light revealed a hardened resolve in Joanne's eyes. "We need to be thorough, Dana. Trust me."

As they ventured deeper into the unknown, Joanne couldn't shake the weight of her secrets. The delicate balance of loyalties and hidden agendas danced in her mind.

"Where are we going?"

"There are intruders in the main conference room," Joanne answered, never stopping to face the apprentice.

"Won't that be dangerous if we engage with them?" Dana fidgeted, anxiety creeping into her tone.

"We won't engage in a fight unless necessary. I need to find out what they're planning." Joanne's response was firm, as she frowned and raised her voice slightly.

Dana simply nodded, realizing that Joanne was getting mad at the rambling of questions.

As they ascended to the third level of the conference room, which resembled more of a grand opera theater, Joanne peered down from a balcony. As she had anticipated, three figures rested on the stage below.

Two children, a boy and a girl, engaged in conversation while a man, three swords hanging from his hips, offered them what seemed like snacks.

"Are they the ones who attacked us?" Dana asked in a hushed whisper, anxiety etching her face.

"I still sense one more person, but I can't see them," Joanne admitted, her gaze piercing through the shadows. Dana nodded, her nervousness palpable.

Descending from the balcony, Joanne and Dana returned to the third-level main hall. An unexpected explosion shattered the air, prompting Dana to scream, her hands shielding her head as she knelt in panic, trembling.

"Shit," Joanne muttered, her eyes narrowing as a cloud of dust veiled their path forward. Emerging from the haze, a gray-haired man held one of Joanne's clones by the neck.

"So, you're Damon," Joanne remarked, a wry grin playing on her lips. Her clone struggled, gasping for breath, but Damon remained unfazed.

"Oh, have we met before? I don't remember ever meeting you or your twin right here," he said, shoving the struggling clone in Joanne's direction. The clone crumpled to the ground beside the weeping Dana, who remained knelt, covering her ears in terror.

The clone, rising with a fiery glare, faced Damon with unabashed hatred. "Dana!" Joanne's yell cut through the chaos. "Get out!" With determined urgency, Joanne forced the apprentice to her feet. Dana, nodding after regaining composure, fled the impending confrontation.

Left alone to confront Damon, Joanne's focus shifted entirely to the looming threat. "Not running away?" Damon taunted, his tone laced with a sinister edge.

Joanne, attempting to cast a spell, found herself outpaced by Damon's unnerving speed. In an instant, he closed the distance, striking her chest with an open palm. The force propelled her across the hallway, colliding violently with the wall at its end.

Gasping for air, Joanne struggled against the searing pain, suspecting that some ribs might have broken at the impact. The agony threatened to overwhelm her, but determination glinted in her eyes. Despite the excruciating pain, she summoned every ounce of strength.

With her clone diverting Damon's attention, Joanne dragged herself along the wall until she could regain proper balance. "Erigo," she whispered, casting a spell upon herself. A surge of adrenaline surged through her veins, alleviating the pain and allowing her to breathe more freely.

The spell did not heal her injuries, but it fueled her senses and bolstered her endurance. Even amid agony, a newfound energy coursed through her, clearing her mind and fortifying her resolve. The confrontation with Damon was far from over, but Joanne, strengthened by both her thaumaturgy and sheer will, felt ready.

Joanne swiftly descended the stairs. She found Dana, who stood in the backstage area trembling uncontrollably. “Erigo!” Joanne cast without hesitation, channeling a surge of energy toward Dana. The apprentice, visibly surprised, halted her shivers, regaining composure.

With newfound determination, they sprinted toward the stage, the echoes of the ongoing commotion on the third level reverberating through the air. The battle between Damon and her clone still raged.

Upon reaching the stage, new enemies waited before Joanne—a Japanese man wielding swords and the two children he protected.

"Stop right there," the swordsman grunted, hand on the hilt of one of his swords, ready to unsheathe.

"Fractus!" Joanne cast, a burst of red light shooting from her wand pierced the swordsman's right shoulder, and propelled him toward the rows of seats.

The two children were visibly panicked. "Mr. Narukami!" The young boy cried out nearly in tears, the teenage girl shielding him.

"Why are you attacking us?" the girl demanded. Joanne, silent and resolute, commanded Dana to apprehend them.

A second clone materialized next to the children, gripping their heads. The swordsman, recovering, shouted, "Don't you dare touch them!" Yet, a third clone appeared beside him, attempting to stab him. He deftly avoided the clone's knife, drawing his sword. The new clone engaged him, executing a mesmerizing dance of airborne slashes.

"Fractus!" Joanne cast at the swordsman repeatedly as she approached the children. Dana bounded their hands with a rope handed to her by the third clone. While Dana worked, the clone deftly removed both children's rings. “Non Iter,” the clone cast, a blue flash hit the children.

Once the task was complete, Dana turned to face Joanne.

"I've restrained them. What's next?" Dana asked.

Suddenly, the entire building shook, reminiscent of an earthquake. Joanne felt a strange force, defying gravity, lifting her slightly off the ground. It was as if the entire structure was in free fall.

"Father did it!" The boy beamed with an infectious joy that grated on Joanne's nerves.

"What?" Joanne scowled, attempting to maintain her balance.

"Father deactivated the flying core!" The boy's jubilant energy seemed to taunt her.

Dana approached, trying to assist Joanne as the disorienting sensation of falling pervaded the air. The ground beneath them quivered, threatening to upend their stability.

Joanne, grappling with the surreal situation, glimpsed at the broken windows on the right side of the conference room. The blurry clouds rushed past, and the realization struck her like a blow to the gut. They were descending rapidly.

The echoes of chaos and confusion enveloped the conference room as they plummeted. Joanne, Dana, and the restrained children became passengers on a perilous descent. The once-sturdy walls of the opera house now seemed to close in, as the ground shook.

Dana, realizing the dire circumstances, tightened her grip on Joanne's arm. The boy's earlier exuberance was replaced by a palpable fear, and the teenage girl's protective stance morphed into one of vulnerability.

The building continued its descent, the very core of its existence now disrupted. As they hurtled toward an uncertain fate, Joanne grappled with the weight of responsibility, knowing that she needed to take action now.

“Non Iter,” Joanne screamed.

“What?” Dana asked as a blue flash hit her.

Joanne's anger consumed her, transforming her into a relentless force. She bared her teeth like a rabid beast, her eyes gleaming with feral determination. With a swift and decisive movement, she plunged a knife beneath Dana's right breast, the steel finding its mark with a sickening thud. Blood spilled forth, staining the apprentice's clothes.

But Joanne wasn't finished. She didn't hold back, channeling her fury into every action. As Dana recoiled in pain, Joanne lunged forward, smashing her forehead against Dana's face. The impact echoed through the air, accompanied by a resounding crack. Yet, despite the violence of the blow, Joanne's focus remained unyielding.

In a seamless display of coordination, Joanne's clone joined the assault. Together, they exerted pressure on Dana and the two children, forcing them to kiss one of the rings. The metallic bands glimmered with an ethereal light, their enchantment binding the trio in a glimmering light, and little by little, they turned into golden ashes.

A thunderous roar shattered the air, piercing through the chaos. Joanne's senses heightened, and she turned her attention to the source of the sound. A formidable swordsman, his eyes blazing with fury, hurtled towards her with his weapon raised. His blade sliced through the air with lethal precision, aiming for the very essence of Joanne.

In one swift motion, the swordsman's strike connected, severing Joanne's head from her body. The world spun, a whirlwind of disorientation and fragmented consciousness. But Joanne's determination held firm. She had prepared for this moment, ensuring that her existence transcended the limitations of a single vessel.

Through her dismembered gaze, Joanne witnessed the swordsman's desperate attempt to salvage the remnants of Dana and the children. But it was too late. The dust they had become slipped through his fingers like fine grains of sand as it flew away.

As her decapitated head landed, Joanne's consciousness shifted, seamlessly merging with her many backup clones. Their collective will surged forth, reinforcing her resolve. She wouldn't succumb to death's embrace so easily.

In the wake of the battle, Joanne's emotions churned within her. She felt a mixture of triumph and sorrow, her heart heavy with the weight of her actions. The path she had chosen was one of sacrifice and turmoil, but her conviction remained unyielding.