The spectral gaze of Rattler’s stigma descended upon the forerunner within the group of guards, and the armored knight suddenly felt her joints lock up. As she fell face first into the carpet covering floors of cold stone, the knight closest to her stopped to grab her by the shoulder all the while lightly chastising her for bumbling about like a squire who was wet behind the ears. However, Lady Cozette’s expression turned odd. Eyes colored a tarnished gold locked onto the prone form of the fallen night before rapidly moving to nervously study the walls, ceiling, and floor of the corridor.
“This isn’t good…”
Spinel’s thoughts transmitted through his stigma was naught but a soft mumble—one that was swiftly drowned out by Vermillion’s orders and subsequent clean up of the trio of knights. For a brief second, it looked as if Cozette made a movement to reach into her sleeve, but the knight who held out an arm to push the young lady away from the fray triggered a full tremor to travel throughout her entire body. In the end two knights collapsed onto the floor, while the first hadn’t ever had the chance to pick herself back up in the first place.
When the man who’d brutally assaulted the knights addressed her, the youngest of the Balfours expectedly grew visibly distressed.
“I’m going-”
Once again, Spinel’s stray thoughts surfaced, though this time they’d be abruptly cut off when the effects of his stigma fizzled out. However, for those familiar with the redhead’s inner workings, it wasn’t difficult to roughly guess the rest of his unspoken sentence with one look at the nauseous expression on his face.
Taking advantage of the moment when Cozette suddenly buried her face in the palms of her hands, Spinel shoved the lantern into Magpie’s hands and slid out of the invisible shroud right beside Vermillion.
When Cozette raised her head and saw that a second man had joined the first, her eyes and the knife she now held in her hand shook.
“O-o-o-oh… oh no… he never told me there would b-b-b-be ghosts. Did he say ghosts and not not guests?,”
she muttered while holding up her weapon in front of her defensively. She tensed as if ready to pounce, yet her body betrayed her aversion towards conflict by instead taking one step backward.
“I need to to to to tell him I can’t do this anymore!”
“Who’s hi- no, um,”
Spinel interrupted the panicked woman before her gradually increasing volume evolved into full-blown shrieks.
“You wouldn’t want him to be disappointed in you, would you? You’ve already come this far.”
His words triggered her to shrink behind her dagger that was still pointed at Vermillion, and she glared at Spinel suspiciously.
“Did he send you? Wh-who sent you?”
Suddenly, she flicked her gaze downward to the floor and muttered,
“No… m-m-maybe this is a test by father… I’m doomed.”
Taking advantage of the extra time waiting for Cozette to finish talking to herself gave him, Spinel reactivated his stigma, linking all of the Arcana members present including Arum who’d been unceremoniously shoved into the noblewoman’s room. As soon as that order of business was complete, the redhead coughed once to bring the young lady’s attention back to him.
“Your… brother ordered us. You know. About the Duke.”
Though Spinel spoke vaguely, the mention of Cozette’s brother—whichever one she interpreted his words as—was enough to get her to lower her knife. Now that he got a closer look at her, the hint of the feral light in her eyes he hadn’t noticed prior also receded.
“O-oh…”
Cozette said softly,
“Then… you n-need this.”
The noblewoman reached into the well-hidden pocket sewn into the side of her nightgown and held out a silver pendant decorated with a tree inscribed within a circle.
“I um. Stole it like like he told me to. Father, he he uses a body double to meet the merchant… So, behind the door.”
Spinel blinked dumbly at Cozette, unsure if it was safe for him to claim the pendant or how exactly she expected him to use it. Though he could make inferences based on her words, he didn’t wish to move on without further information yet was rooted to the spot out of concern that he’d ask the wrong question and alarm the noblewoman.
Thus, he could only make a plea for help.
“Arum. Help. Or anyone good at twenty questions.”
In his rising panic, he completely failed to notice that Cozette’s eyes continued to wander, frequently flicking to the space behind Spinel and Vermillion. Her gaze never seemed to focus on a singular spot, however.
Arakan takes a moment just to watch his fellow Arcanum agents at work, admiring the show for a moment. He looks over to where Foxglove is, still nervous- She was a good person. The thought is striking him, at the moment, as he rests a light hand on her shoulder to pat her there reassuringly for a moment. The scientist just grins and winks at Foxglove, before he starts to casually walk into the fray.
"Don't you worry. Noone starts off competent. There's no manual or guide for this sort of thing. Just watch and learn."
The three guards had their hands full with the first two assailants- the arrival of Arakan tips the scale fully in Arcanum's favor. Arakan casually dodges their swings, delivering bone-crushing blows with his fists and legs as he almost dances around them. The billowing folds of his robes obscure his movements, making him seem almost like a laughing ghost as he appears ever where they would like him the least. Arakan's movements are just beyond the natural- his mana-enhancement allowing him to move like a storm. Bones crack. Skin breaks, and blood flies.
Within the first five blows, the guards are all but dead on their feet- Arakan simply sweeps their legs out from under them before knocking them unconscious with simple little kicks.
"I really should get out more often. This really is good fun."
Despite Cozette’s dainty appearance, she was strong. Unsurprising, considering she possibly just killed the maid with a single strike. Nevertheless, Cyrus was a little embarrassed when he stumbled and fell onto his bum when she shoved him into her room.
He got to his feet, feeling a little dazed as he came down from the adrenaline rush of witnessing a bloody scene. His heart had sunk when Cozette’s blade remained pointed at him despite his stigma’s influence, but he somehow managed to convince her not to impale him. How desperate must she be to stand against a dear “friend”?
There was the sound of clanging footsteps outside, but it sounded like Cozette was redirecting the guards. Cyrus took the opportunity to scan the room for anything useful. He could probably afford to rummage through Cozette’s belongings while she was occupied, but enemy or not, it would be terribly rude to go through a lady’s room without permission!
All in all, it was a fairly modest room. A tad small and… minimalistic, for a noble. He couldn’t see any fancy decor or cosmetics that he would expect someone of Cozette’s status to own. Even back when Cyrus was trapped in his parents’ home, he was afforded a spacious room, and he probably owned more than what Cozette had.
The only thing of note was an empty birdcage in the corner of the room.
Cyrus frowned and turned back toward the door. He could hear muffled commotion outside, but he wasn’t too worried. Auri was there, and he’d break the guards’ limbs before they could call for backup. He offered a quiet prayer to them and waited for the all-clear.
The reactivation of Spinel’s stigma prompted Cyrus to open the door and peek out. The leaders of the First and Third Divisions were out in the open, and Cozette seemed… not quite calm, but less distressed. In response to Spinel’s plea, Cyrus sidled up to Cozette and plucked the pendant from her hand, making sure to telegraph his movements.
“Thank you for your aid, milady,” Cyrus said, holding the pendant to his heart like it was a precious treasure. He made sure to hold eye contact, because that's how you convey earnesty!
As for how to get more information out of her… Cyrus wasn’t sure how. He’d always been a bad liar, and he was still within stabbing range. But Auri was a reassuring presence behind him, emboldening him to try anyway.
“I won’t betray your brother’s trust by abandoning the mission, but I must admit… I am a bit frightened by how quickly the guards came.” More like how quickly Cozette skewered the maid. Who, by the way, was still lying prone in a bloody puddle. “I would feel much more comfortable proceeding if you could tell us more about what to expect. Could you… please help us out? Help me out?”
Cyrus tilted his head, letting his bangs fall and frame his cheeks. Mustering his most pathetic expression, he blinked wide, green eyes at her and took her hand with a gentle squeeze.
This. This was his ultimate technique. The one that Daemon passed down to him, a “sure-fire way” to make maidens coo over him. The puppy-dog eyes.
(Oddly enough, the puppy-dog eyes never worked whenever Daemon used them on burly bar owners who wanted him to pay up. But that was neither here nor there.)
The members of Arcana stationed in the courtyard would be allowed a few moments of reprieve, vigilant yet armed with the knowledge that the next guard wouldn’t be passing through the area until another half hour. Those who inspected or peeled the armor off of the guards would find the stolen disguise a good fit, albeit a bit snug here and there. After all, their targets and those selected to take part in the separate dispatch were chosen carefully with their respective heights and builds in mind, though one of the five expected guards were missing.
Like a phantom, a sudden presence wove its way behind Pawn. A frigid hand cupped the left side of her jaw, while a second traced a line over the front of her throat. Unlike the gelid touch of the mysterious newcomer’s hands, the finger lightly rubbing against Pawn’s throat was far more welcoming, yet the threat it conveyed was in no sense diminished. The moment Pawn swung an elbow at the person crouched behind her, a soft laugh brushed past her ear, and it swiftly pulled away.
Within the span of a heartbeat, the presence blinked into existence a few meters away from the group. A figure familiar to Pawn and Samadhi but unfamiliar to the rest sat with one leg crossed over the other upon the edge of the courtyard’s fountain. Crimson eyes locked gazes with Pawn for a few moments before the white-haired woman turned to inspect the object in her hand. Having managed to snatch one of the guards’ helmets from right under the Arcana members’ noses, she gave it a brief look of disgust before tossing it at the group of five.
“Ugh, this one was sweating like a pig. You should clean that before you wear it,”
the woman spoke in a tone seemingly judging them for even considering the idea. Unlike their first encounter with the strange woman, her body language was relaxed and lacked any signs that she was planning on fleeing. However, her gaze remained sharp like a finely crafted knife, keenly aware of everyone’s movements and prepared to react at a moment’s notice.
Emersyn expelled a puff of relief once the knights, except one, were dealt with. She was eager to follow through with the next step in the mission until an impending sense of doom loomed over her. A red warning siren blared through her mind as a foreign presence appeared behind her. From their chilled touch caressing her face and neck and the breathy laughter brushing against her ear, Emersyn sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and swung her elbow sharply in their direction. Unfortunately, the instinctive action failed to exempt Song from its aggressive path and would knock her down.
An apology nor a glance was spared towards the poor Song. Emersyn was seized by the talons of her own panic and held under its unforgiving torment. There was a ringing in her ears as her mind raced in anguish and dread. It was heard through the rapid breaths tearing through her lungs and seen in the frantic manner as Emersyn pushed through the manicured foliage once she caught the intruder’s location once again at the water fountain. Amongst her frenzied state, Emersyn noticed there was something vaguely familiar about their movements. It was not until Emersyn stood a few meters away from them did she finally recognize her.
She was the same woman she and Arakan encountered in Arva’s observatory, but this time, Emersyn could finally see her without the illumination of torchlight. The moonlight casted over the courtyard shimmered the woman's pale hair like spider silk. When their gazes met, every fiber trembling in Panic’s tyranny halted for a moment. The woman’s gaze was as if red twilight descended its grace upon Emersyn who perceived herself as something akin to a dull, beaten stone. And when she looked away, Emersyn felt impulsed to follow her gaze and to remain in the center of it. Thump, her chest responded and her cheeks flushed in tow. Then, her mind cruelly recalled their closeness a moment ago. Emersyn could still feel the cool pads of her fingers and the path they took along her skin. The dangerous intimacy they shared led the heat along her cheeks to spread to the top of her ears. The back of her hand hid the tremble of her lips, and Emersyn averted her gaze from the strange woman — suddenly abhorred by her thoughts.
✦ ✦ ✦
Rubies— no, focus. Focus, focus, garnet, silk, FOCUS… Emersyn fought to steel her mind against such foreign notions and to trace herself back to the present moment. There was something else about the woman — something gravely important that one of their agents mentioned during their first encounter with her. Yet, Emersyn struggled to recall what it was. Emersyn glanced hard in Samadhi’s direction, not out of frustration with him, but as if his face had the answer written across it. Foxy and Dahlia weren’t there either and Emersyn doubted the woman would want to stick around for one of Nemesis’s interrogations. What she would do to have Spinel here right now, she sighed. The strange woman felt rather flighty to say the least. In the same hand, Emersyn would be greatly displeased to allow someone as suspicious as the woman of her ability to run free, especially after the stunt she pulled on her.
Somehow in some way, something clicked in Emersyn’s muddled brain and she stifled a giggle once her eyes found what it’s been searching for. Out of nowhere — “Flighty… like a bird,” she hummed audibly enough for the others to hear. I'm going to get beat up for this...“Birdy… Fly, fly away…” Emersyn swayed to her tune like a lunatic. “Fly away with HER RING,” she yelled out.
In the split second of performing a twirl, Emersyn unsheathed her scissors and aimed one of its blades at the woman’s finger adorned with a ring. Emersyn would immediately chase after the strange woman if she attempts to flee, leaving behind the others in the courtyard.
