The smell of the witch was not simply bound to his mention of the ability, but also to his emotional state. Though Lelouch was someone that planned ahead and could work in circumstances that surprised him nonetheless, that didn't mean he was entirely cool headed.
If anything, Lelouch wouldn't hesitate to say that he could become very emotional. There weren't many weaknesses to exploit with a man who had nothing to lose, but if there was something that'd strike a chord with him, then it'd be his sister.
Technically, his world being in danger was an ultimatum. As long as the ultimatum hasn't been spoken out, she would still attempt to speak to him, show him she's serious. Someone like Betelgeuse wasn't going to do that. Which means that avoiding to be taken was of the utmost priority.
The people at the table were tense. While only Roswaal and Lelouch knew what had happened earlier, Emilia and Russell were both quite capable of reading the mood. Lelouch's didn't improve even after he schooled his features into something less… malevolent.
Puck, however, didn't have any reservations about cutting through the tension with his words. He was seated on Emilia's head, his legs crossed and his stare towards Lelouch calculative.
"You know." Puck's words weren't an accusation. It was a simple matter of fact, and Lelouch would just look idiotic trying to deny it.
"I've known for a while," Lelouch said. "I've been cursed."
Emilia blinked. Russell didn't look particularly interested in a talk he didn't understand as a non-mage, but Lelouch could see that he wasn't letting this opportunity go waste to gather information.
"Cursed?" Emilia asked. Roswaal looked skeptic, before inclining his head. Lelouch assumed that the noble either accepted his reasoning or at least thought his reasoning made sense with the information that Lelouch had. The man knew more than he let on, anyway.
"You can't smell it," Puck said. "And I didn't want to worry you, but the last time I smelled a stench this strong, I was fighting the Witch of Envy."
Lelouch's eyes widened slightly, and even Russell looked a bit put off by the information. Only Emilia and Roswaal didn't look surprised. Emilia couldn't smell the witch, so she wasn't just being polite by somehow pretending it didn't exist. It was nice having confirmation about that, though with a bloodhound, or cat rather, like Puck, it didn't matter.
"I don't know the specifics," Lelouch said. The right kind of information might make Puck and Roswaal more likely to be open to him. "But it can often lead to great pain, and my mood worsens the stench."
Russell would no doubt report to Crusch Karsten or whoever else had him in their pocket or vice versa, just to see if he could make a profit out of it. It didn't matter. Lelouch wasn't going to survive this loop.
"Your mood?" Roswaal intoned.
"Intense emotions," Lelouch lied. "Happiness, grief, anger. The more intense, the worse."
"And what emotion spilled out when you stepped into this room, then?" Roswaal asked. He wasn't letting up. That was alright, Lelouch could use that.
"I remembered my sister," Lelouch said. "We used to dine in a hall like this, back before I came to Lugnica."
Back before he was fighting a war against her.
"So you were a noble?"
Lelouch shrugged. "My sister was sick and we weren't going to inherit, when my mother passed away, my father shipped us off and left us on our own."
"That's horrible," Emilia said, all but slapping her hands on the table. Lelouch could appreciate how easy she was to read, simply honest to a fault. Puck didn't look convinced.
"It's what it is. Me and my sister had a… falling out, so to speak," Lelouch said, internally cringing at calling the war and subsequent arrangement of his own assassination a 'falling out'. "I miss her, but I know I can't be with her. It's been a… long time."
A very long time since the old days at Ashford's. If anything, even though he was simplifying it, Lelouch wasn't lying too much. The memories of the old days and his sister were always going to leave him miserable.
"And the curse?" Puck asked, sounding uninterested in Lelouch's sob story. The young man gave him a crooked grin. Roswaal didn't look like a family man either, so going through a rather stilted version of the events that brought him here wasn't going to catch his interest.
"I've had it since arriving in Lugnica," Lelouch said. "The more in detail I go about it, the worse the pain."
Emilia looked uncomfortable. It couldn't be Lelouch's vagueness, then perhaps pity?
"We have a spirit in the mansion," Roswaal spoke up. "She's very competent and knowledgeable about curses. Perhaps she could help you?"
"No," Lelouch said, the words leaving his mouth a bit too fast. Roswaal took notice. "The last time someone tried, they burned their hands. I'm not going to risk that again."
Unless it was someone like the Witch Cult, nobody deserved to end up scarred because of him. Felix's hands weren't going to leave his memory anytime soon. And if the curse could be lifted like that, then dying would actually mean dying, and Lelouch couldn't risk that. Not now.
Russell leaned forward, giving Lelouch a hard stare. "Is something the matter, Russell?"
"I'm just thinking," Russell said. "A curse like that, pain or the witch's stench, it goes over the head of someone like me, you know? But hm…"
The man held his chin, leaning back into his chair again, and Roswaal spoke up. "If you want me to explain it to you, I could."
"No, no, I get the gist of it, I'm just thinking, besides the pain, what kind of goal would such a curse accomplish?" Russell asked. Lelouch glanced at Roswaal, not seeing a reaction and then turned his stare back at Russell. "It sounds like something to mark you by. It'd draw the attention of the wrong kind of people, and make people who are aware of it hostile towards you."
Lelouch's lips were a thin line. It'd make sense, if it wasn't for the fact that every noble he had met up until now hasn't been actively hostile. The only one who had made it an issue was the mage back when he first learned about this world.
"I don't think so," Roswaal said. "Rather, it'd draw the attention of everyone."
"How so?" Russell asked. Emilia looked confused. Puck was eating her food.
"Someone who's obviously not insane, helping people and nobles in Lugnica, but yet smells like the witch," Roswaal said. "If anything, it'd almost make it look like he's been marked so the nobles would pay more attention to him. Make him more important than he would otherwise be."
Lelouch's lips twitched slightly. Might that be what it was? The interest of the nobles came mostly from the stench of the witch, rather than his charming personality? A soft laugh bubbled up in his throat. The stench of the witch became less obnoxious. Lelouch became less tense.
"Is there no fear of the witch among the nobles?" Lelouch asked.
"As long as the dragon and the Sword Saint's bloodline are there for Lugnica, nobody truly fears the witch. What people fear are more… contemporary issues."
"Mabeasts," Lelouch concluded. "The White Whale."
"And the Witch Cult," Russell said. Emilia looked uncomfortable. Puck was finishing up her plate.
Lelouch's lips twitched downwards. "I might have a clue on who cursed me, but I only have a name and a general appearance. Perhaps someone here might know her?"
"Oh?" Roswaal intoned, his interest showing.
"She was almost otherworldly, a woman named Pandora."
Roswaal opened his mouth and closed it again. Russell just tilted his head, confused. When Roswaal finally found his voice again, he stood up, a look of utter amazement on his face, mixed with a fair helping of fear.
"How could you say that name?" Roswaal asked. Lelouch didn't think he saw the man this open and easy to read before in their very short time of knowing each other.
"What do you mean?" Lelouch asked. "It's a name, isn't it?"
"It's… you can say it!" Roswaal said, moving around the table. He was about to grab Lelouch's face before he noticed where they were. "The name has a curse on it, a condition that makes it impossible to mention or write! The only people who should know her name are people she spoke it to-"
"Who is she?"
"A…" Roswaal began, turning to Emilia and Russell. "Let us meet in my study later on. I'll explain it to you then. I apologize for my outburst."
"Don't mention it," Lelouch said. "I apologize for bringing up something so upsetting."
Lelouch could see Roswaal's fingers twitch. The man's emotions were going wild. He looked like he wanted to ask a thousand questions, but Emilia's and Russel's presence made it hard. Rather than worry too much, Lelouch embraced the fact that he finally had some leverage.
###
Eventually, Lelouch and Roswaal were seated in his study. The room was tidy, except for the large desk near the giant window that would be a security risk in any modern society with access of sniper rifles.
On the desk were various tomes and other kinds of books. Lelouch found some books with titles that sounded more or less like fictional novels, though something like that was rather hard to judge in a world where fantasy is reality.
But even in a world where magic is common, half-elves can become rulers due to a dragon's prophecy of all things, and maids swing flails around, there was an universal truth. Something that was clear for every fight one wanted to start.
Know your enemy.
Lelouch couldn't afford to work with incomplete information and take it step by step, returning to the past if he messed something up. Destroying the Witch Cult would need time. Absolute annihilation took careful planning.
So when Lelouch eventually resorted to demanding information from Roswaal about that monster of a woman so the noble could repay his favor, he didn't expect the man to be so eager.
"That woman," Roswaal said, his words sounding as if he was chewing on something bitter. "She's a Witch."
Lelouch blinked. "Which one? It can't be Envy, did one of the six others survive?"
"No." Roswaal shook his head, somehow sounding annoyed about the fact. It was as if a mask had slipped off, melting and revealing passion where there was none before. "She's the witch of Vainglory."
Vainglory, not pride. Lelouch had thought she might've been one of the archbishops, the leader of the lot. But instead, she turns out to be a Witch? A Witch who seeks to bring back the one that nearly destroyed the world?
The story as it is told would make Satella stronger than the other witches. Absorbing the other's powers, she became even more powerful than a being that threatened to attack his world and bring chaos and death to his friends and family? Lelouch drew a shaky breath.
If Satella broke out and destroyed everything, absorbing Pandora… would she turn her head towards his sister's world?
If so, if there's the remote chance, one chance in a hundred billion, he couldn't risk it.
"As you know, the archbishops hold authorities," Roswaal began again. "Those authorities allow them to use the powers of the witches, but even so, it's only a fraction of the powers. A Witch is on another level entirely."
Lelouch thought back to Betelgeuse's careless antics. The hands, used by the right people, would probably be a lot more dangerous.
"And her authority makes her name a taboo?" Lelouch asked. Roswaal nodded.
"I can't tell you what the authority of Vainglory is, but it's dangerous enough that it can affect the entire world for something like a name. Imagine she decided to make every known word a taboo."
Lelouch didn't need to be a genius to realize how bad that'd be, but it certainly helped. It wouldn't take too long until people resorted to sign language they'd somehow come up with, but the fraction of the first few weeks would make it a dangerous time.
"The curse," Lelouch said. "It might let me speak about her."
"But it doesn't make sense," Roswaal said, shaking his head. "If she gave you the curse, why would she allow you to use her name?"
"A side effect?" Lelouch asked. The idea that Pandora is responsible for the curse was far fetched, but Roswaal was at least willing to consider it now. "I cannot speak of the specifics, as you know, but perhaps the curse had a condition attached to it."
Conditional magic rather than direct one. Traps and the like could be created with such. In this case, the conditions were easy - Satella didn't want him to die. So if he died, the condition would trigger and send him back. If he spoke of it, the condition would trigger and hurt him.
Direct magic would be a curse that simply drained him. It had no condition. It kept going and going until he was dead.
"So the condition to apply a curse like that to you, which made you unable to speak of certain things, made you capable of speaking about something that's forbidden?"
Lelouch simply shrugged, giving the man a small smile. "I wouldn't know."
While Lelouch wanted to bring up the diary, he could play that card later. Roswaal knew a lot more than he was letting on, he always did. A man was entitled to his secret, just not from Lelouch.
"So what do you know about Pandora?" Lelouch asked.
"I've… met her once," Roswaal said. There was some reluctance in his voice. "She has ties to the Witch Cult, of course, you probably assumed as much already. Yet I somehow doubt that a spell that'd bring out the Witch of Envy's smell is within her power."
So he didn't buy it as much as Lelouch assumed he did. Nor was he entirely truthful.
"If anything, if she wanted you dead, she wouldn't do it like this." Roswaal waved his hand towards Lelouch. "You'd be a beacon for mabeasts. Most wind dragon carriages are fast enough that it won't be a problem, but if you were to wander into the forests of my domain, you'd be ripped apart within seconds."
"The smell draws mabeasts?" Lelouch asked. Roswaal nodded. "Even such things as the White Whale?"
"I'm… unsure, a mabeast is a mabeast, no matter how powerful," Roswaal said. "Perhaps the earlier deduction by Russell that the nobles would be hostile towards you was closer to the truth than we think. If the White Whale attacked wherever you are, it'd eventually become a recognizable pattern."
"That is to say, if I survived these attacks," Lelouch said, his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Perhaps my study of magic will eventually help me get rid of the curse myself. I have found something, maybe you know about it."
"What is it?"
"A book," Lelouch said, grabbing the diary from inside his clothes. "Specifically, a diary. It seems that only I can read it-"
"Where did you-"
"I believe Pandora left it for me, for a reason unknown to me, and someone as distinguished and famous as you might have some information for me." Lelouch smiled. "That's what I thought, to say the least."
"But there isn't supposed to be a book," Roswaal said, shaking his head. "Flügel never wrote one. It's not mentioned in… in my ancestor's diary."
"So you know it's his?" Lelouch asked. Roswaal blinked. "I haven't mentioned what's inside it."
"It feels like it," Roswaal said, as if waving his hand and implying that with magic, nobody had to explain anything. "If I had to describe it, I'd say it's the opposite of the Witch's smell. Instead of putrid, it's like a breeze. I know what the Sword Saint's and the Dragon's magic smells like."
Lelouch stopped himself from asking if every magic had a smell. He hadn't thought much about it, and in retrospect, he didn't actually want to know if he couldn't smell the distinction himself.
"Only you can read it? What does it say?" Roswaal asked.
"It's a diary that contains a few spells, but mostly ramblings about Flügel's first few days when he arrived… somewhere. He mentioned a village of elves."
Roswaal looked worried. Concerned? Not for himself, but for someone else?
"Don't mention that in front of Emilia, please," Roswaal demanded. "There's a lot going on, the elves haven't been there for a while, and Emilia has found her way to me due to that."
Concern for Emilia, then. The idea that Roswaal was mostly using Emilia for some political end wasn't off the table, but it seems that he grew concerned with his charge's well-being nonetheless.
"I understand," Lelouch said. "So perhaps this diary isn't by Flügel but by Pandora? Some ploy to fool me?"
He knew that wasn't true, but Roswaal's suspicion of the book didn't help him, so an excuse for its existence needed to be made up.
"Magic to tie a book, or any item, to only one person is rare," Roswaal said, staring at the white covered book. "But if it's her, I'm sure she should be able to."
The last time around, Lelouch hadn't shown Roswaal the book. He had mentioned it, talked to Puck about it, showed it to the spirit of the library. Lelouch doubted he could've gotten Roswaal's defenses down without Pandora's name, though, so it wasn't an entirely wasted effort to hide the book before.
"Do you have a pen and some paper? The spells inside the diary are not very impressive, but I could show you one if you wanted."
Roswaal had the utensils on the table faster than Lelouch could blink, and he picked up the pen, slowly drawing the circle and filling it out with Flügel's symbols. Channeling mana over the symbols, the white glow eventually engraved itself on Lelouch's hand, leaving the paper blank.
Roswaal blinked. "That spell…"
"You know of it," Lelouch said. "From your… ancestor's diaries?"
"Yes, but he never taught it to anyone, eventually he just made a bunch of toys people could recreate with a similar effect. Mirrors to speak to people."
"That's exactly what this does," Lelouch said. This loop, like the ones before, was a lost cause. He didn't have anything of leverage to kill Betelgeuse, unless he could convince Roswaal to do it for him, and that'd mean leaving more information in the hands of a man he didn't trust. "Mandillia. Pandora."
A window appeared. It slowly opened. As if something was trying to stop it, it made the sound of an unoiled door, and for a few seconds, Lelouch expected the spell to just die out. Instead, Pandora's face appeared, looking every bit as confused as Roswaal looked angry.
Angry? That wasn't what Lelouch expected, but still a point to leverage.
"Pandora," Lelouch said. She twitched. He could say her name. "You know who I am, don't you?"
"Lelouch vi Britannia," she said. "Or do you prefer emperor?"
"If that's supposed to surprise me, then you're barking up the wrong tree, witch," Lelouch said, the last word spat out as he felt his temper rise. Roswaal didn't even give him a glance when Pandora casually mentioned a different name. "I have something you want."
"I can see that," she said, looking at the edges of the window. "I've underestimated you. How do you know about me?"
Lelouch lifted the white book up. "Pandora, Witch of Vainglory," Lelouch said, knowing Roswaal wouldn't call him out on using the information he just received and pretending it was from the book. "Leader of the Witch Cult, and for some reason trying to revive the one that nearly destroyed the world. Stop me if I'm wrong. You can create a mirror to a different world, capable of affecting it."
At first, he simply wanted to point out she couldn't attack his world and hope she'd concede the point if he caught her by surprise. But the right kind of information could only be gathered if one showed vulnerability.
"He knew?" Pandora asked, raising one eyebrow. She looked delicate, as if she could break apart at any minute. Just like Elsa before, after getting over the first impression of a strange draw towards her, she became disgusting to look at. "Then you know what I can do to yours."
Roswaal was turning blue. Lelouch turned towards him, blinking. "Are you-"
"He'll not participate in this conversation, nor will he breathe," Pandora said. Lelouch felt a cold shudder move over his spine. She could do that? Simply use the mirror he created to stop Roswaal from breathing? "So unless you want to test how long he can hold his breath, I suggest you get to the point where you say 'I have something you want', and I say 'Bring it to me'."
"No," Lelouch said. Roswaal looked weaker. A feeling of dread approached. Something was coming. Betelgeuse? No. This magic was tangible. "This is the point where I tell you not to touch my home, and if you do, I will destroy you."
She looked amused. As if she wanted to laugh but had forgotten how to. "Then perhaps your sister would be more than willing to help me instead, perhaps if she could see her dear brother one last time…"
Lelouch closed the mirror with a swipe of his hand and turned to Roswaal, who began breathing again. When he managed to right himself and look towards the space where the window had been, Roswaal spoke up. "That… please… warn me…"
"I apologize," Lelouch said. "I didn't expect something like that to happen."
"Never underestimate… a witch," Roswaal said. Coughing a bit, Roswaal put his hand on his neck. "She is not going to let this go."
"She isn't," Lelouch said.
"Did you know that I knew?" Roswaal asked. Lelouch gave him a small smile. It meant nothing, but Roswaal assumed it did. The small twitch in his hand, and Roswaal frowned. "I didn't know who you were before, just where you come from. It's a phenomenon described in my ancestor's diaries."
Those diaries are the biggest lie Lelouch heard since he was told his sister died.
"I understand," Lelouch said. "And I'll not mention anything of this if you don't."
Lelouch still had a while before Betelgeuse would attack, and even then, his call to Pandora might have changed the circumstances of that.
"She's might be attacking me," Lelouch said. "Or send someone after me."
Roswaal understood the need for certain secrets, as did Lelouch. Both of them could appreciate the other's discretion.
"I doubt it will happen at the manor," Roswaal said. "I promise that no harm will come to you if you stay here."
Yeah right. That worked so well the last times. Lelouch just nodded, pocketing the diary again. He had some time to read.
###
"She's been happier," Lelouch read. The witch showed herself again when he began reading, but she was hesitant to stop him this time. "Whenever she feels lonely, she can use my spell to call for me."
"Mandillia… Flügel." Lelouch heard a whisper in his ear. Shaking his head, he continued.
"The more magic I learn, the more the world seems to make sense. The only thing that never makes sense to me is women. She found a box recently and hasn't let me see it. When I caught glimpses of it, she got angry."
For some reason, Lelouch felt sorry about something he didn't do. The witch's presence became weaker.
"Lately she's been calling me more and more often," Lelouch read. "To deal with that, I created a spell that'd let me transport myself quickly. It only works for places you consider home. It didn't let me transport myself back to my world."
Lelouch grimaced. A spell like that wouldn't help him. There was no home for him here. Even Reinhard's mansion was at most a temporary place of living, even with the friends he had there.
"I met a woman today," Lelouch continued his readings. "She said she was passing through, and when I saw just how tired she looked, I invited her to stay with us for the night. Satella refused at first, but the woman just went to sleep on her, not letting her stand up. It was too awkward, so I left them alone."
"Sekhmet."
Lelouch blinked when the feeling of affection bubbled up from within him.
The name appeared on the pages as she spoke it.
"Sekhmet is lazy. But she's still crazy strong. She even said that there was a dragon that was annoying her until she met us!"
Lelouch had the feeling he knew what dragon Flügel was talking about.
"Sekhmet is more than just lazy. She's slothful. At least, that's what she preferred to be called. Satella grew attached to her, and Sekhmet also seemed less slothful when Satella was around."
A strong person, slothful?
A witch?
"Sekhmet taught me magic today. The bell of sleep could make anyone fall asleep for weeks. Nobody felt hungry or thirsty, after a week, everyone woke up refreshed. I made her promise me not to use it again unless it was an emergency."
Making everyone sleep for a week with just one spell could spill disaster for a city, a village full of elves probably had fewer problems with that.
"Sekhmet declared that every day she couldn't fall asleep was an emergency."
The witch inside him laughed.
Lelouch read the information about the revealed spells and memorized them. The transportation spell needed another circle, while Sekhmet's spell needed an incantation that Lelouch couldn't read off the page.
"I am Flügel," the last visible page declared. "And today, I will marry the woman I love. Sekhmet seemed uncharacteristically happy about helping with the preparations."
A bit under it was the next line, and the rest of the page was blank: "A dragon interrupted the wedding in the elven village. Sekhmet left, grabbing him by the wings and throwing him over the borders to another kingdom. Satella wasn't happy."
Lelouch frowned.
He might have to keep reading to find something useful, but… the diary didn't give him more. Somehow, Lelouch felt like pouting. Satella's emotions bled over while he held the diary, so Lelouch put it down, clearing his head.
At least he got something out of it today. The name of sloth. And he would have to fight its archbishop.