Tristain had already been preparing for war against the Reconquista, but drafting and the higher taxes hadn't stopped yet, meaning that the council also suspected that conflict was coming. Something which aggravated her as they didn't say a word to her or the Queen.
Letting out a sigh, she opens Loutiel's letter and immediately scowls. This was the second time he'd requested this, and she'd actually listened last time, but it turned out to be a failure. He wished to grant clemency to the False-Familia. Loutiel had explained that he wished to use him as an assassin of sorts, though, he left it unsaid who would be the targets as both already knew.
Louise' old familiar had caused many problems, and the thought of bringing him back into the fold had struck her a few times, but she'd always ignored it due to the sheer amount of trouble it'd cause. General Gramont would immediately request satisfaction, and once that was denied, would rebel with his already prepared forces.
Obviously, the False-Familiar would be used to assassinate General Gramont to prevent this, but she hadn't allowed an attempt to make contact until she'd been engaged to General Gramont's son. She'd send Agnes and some of the more loyal Musketeer Knights to Albion to both make contact with the False-Familiar, and to assist the loyalists in any way possible.
Only to then have her gift thrown back into her face, when Agnes comes back and reports what'd occurred between the False-Familiar, her, Prince Wales, and the now-dead Baron Jargkon. What's worse is that if he did accept her offer, she'd have been forced to SOMEHOW find a place to keep an elf-girl safe without her being discovered and butchered on sight. The False-Familiars elf companion had thrown both her and Loutiel's plans out of the window.
The Chevalier had found the situation funny, but she didn't. Without the False-Familiar, her marriage was all but secure. Something she hated with all her being, especially now that Prince Wales was back to ruling Albion.
Wales had even sent her a letter that now sits under the floorboards of her room in a secret compartment, reaffirming his undying love for her. Such a letter brought tears to her eyes, as the man loved her despite the two official betrothals she'd been involved with while he was fighting for his life and country.
As for Louise' reaction to her familiar's actions? Well, Henrietta hadn't told her about anything the man had done. Not wanting her magical studies to be impeded by the news. They'd brought some time of peace now that Reconquista was out of the picture, but Gallia on the horizon meant that Louise' skills were still needed.
She shakes her head and stops herself from endlessly repeating such thoughts, as it wouldn't get her anywhere aside from a mean headache. Deciding to quickly get through the rest of this work
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elsewhere :
"My Lord." Sheffield says as she drops to a knee, lowering her head as her master, King Joseph Gallia sits on his throne. The man was tall, with average length turquoise hair and brown eyes. He had a goatee and a beard that framed his handsome face, and wore clothing only fit for a king, which was white, blue and gold to match Gallia's colours.
He had a wide smile on his face as he looked down at Sheffield, his Void Familiar Mjöðvitnir, The Mind of God. He'd been surprised when he first summoned her, and somewhat disappointed that it hadn't been a dragon, unlike his brother who 'kindly' teased him for it. But when he discovered his status as a Void Mage and her status as his Void Familiar, his attitude quickly turned around.
In fact, without her, most of his schemes would've fallen flat before they could even have an effect. A prime example of this was the Reconquista, which he used to weaken Albion and Tristain for is an eventual invasion.
"Sheffield, what news have you brought?" he asks, gesturing for her to be at ease.
"My lord, the loyalists have retaken Albion, and the Reconquista has failed with Cromwell dead." she quickly reports, no emotion in her voice as she awaits her punishment for her failure.
He just waves it off however, "That was to be expected, I was anticipating Tristain to have intervened much sooner, but it is better late than never."
Sheffield shakes her head, "My lord, it was not only Tristain who helped destroy the Reconquista. The Gandalfr also had a hand in it."
...
"Oh? It is truly Gandalfr then? Not just some rumour? Why then is he not under the control of his master? Or is that Valliere girl too weak to even do that?" he asks, curious of the Gandalfr and his master's strange relationship...
"I do not know, my lord. But you must know that this Gandalfr is strange... He possesses abilities that are different from what was written. And seems to be getting stronger faster than I thought possible... When he escaped from my control in Londinium, he was barely a threat. But he was far, far stronger when he returned." she explains, wary that Gandalfr's powers would continue to rise and eventually eclipse her own abilities.
Joseph lets a small smile show, "Impressive. Maybe Gandalfr will prove a challenge even without his master... Did you manage to retrieve the ring?"
Sheffield nods, displaying it to him, "I did my lord, I snatched it out of the Gandalfr's grasp just as he was about to acquire it." she says with a satisfied grin while remembering the angry look on his face as she left.
"Good. Keep the ring with you, you may need it for your next task... I need you to Tristain and make sure the civil war happens. It won't occur on its own now that the Reconquisa is gone, but it will not take much to kick-start it. Stay away from Valliere Void Mage, other than that, the board is yours." he says, waving her off much to her chagrin. She'd wanted to stay in Gallia and with him for a bit as she'd been in Albion for a considerable time already... But, a familiar's work is never done.
"By your will my lord, I will not fail you." she declares as she fades into the shadows, disappearing from the palace completely. Leaving Joseph alone as he rubs his beard, "I wonder if Gandalfr will finally be able to get rid of my annoying Niece... We'll see."
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*Swish!*
*Swish!*
*Swish!*
The sound of wind whistling echoes through the small forest clearing as a teenage boy absolutely covered in sweat continues his exercises as a stern-faced man watches with crossed arms from the side.
Michael swings the wooden stick for the one millionth time today... Or at least, it felt like it had. He'd discovered that while he possessed a ridiculous amount of Agility, his Strength and endurance was far from what he wanted them to be. But this isn't why he was torturing himself like this.
These sword swings were supposedly to ingrain proper sword etiquette and techniques into his body, so that muscle memory would take over whenever his mind was elsewhere, say battle, or being distracted.
Of course, his Gandalfr runes refused to work since he wasn't holding a 'weapon' but a wooden stick instead. After Ralf had accidentally learned of the rune's existence, he'd made sure that Michael never activated them, so that he'd actually learn instead of relying on the runes all the time.
And while Michael hated his guys currently, he had to say that the man's teachings worked. His footwork was now far better, instead of the weird mish-mash of reactionary stances he'd previously been relying on... As much as he didn't want to admit it, the stances he'd been using were the ones he'd seen in anime... Specifically, Naruto and Dragonball... Yeah, he'd take that fact to his grave.
As for his actual swordsmanship? Well... Without the runes, he was basically just untalented. Michael didn't want to acknowledge this before, but it made sense... Back on Earth he was what you'd call a 'Geek', not smart enough to be a 'Nerd', but physically inept enough to be ridiculed for it nonetheless.
So, while he was making progress in his swordsmanship, it wasn't anything impressive, and it make take centuries for him to actually master it. That is if he didn't gain a skill boost as he had with Riki and Daggers.
*Thwack!*
The clap of wood hitting flesh sounds out as Ralf slaps Michael in the arm with his 'teaching rod' as he likes to call it. Michael grunts, but more in annoyance than pain as he glances over to his teacher.
"Pull your arms in, you're spreading them out again! I've told you, you're not a bird or a peacock, you're a boy! So start acting like it!" he firmly states, stepping back again to allow Michael to continue.
"Hmph, I'll show you peacock." he whispers under his breath as he follows Ralf's orders and pulls his elbows in as he starts swinging again.
This continues for around thirty more minutes when Ralf finally lets him stop, "Alright, that's enough for today. Tomorrow we'll go over some techniques I think you may find useful."
Michael nods, dropping the stick since his arms felt like they were going to fall off. His Shadow Dance skill would slowly heal him, but things like muscle strain take far longer than any regular wound for some reason. Maybe something to do with issues removing lactic acid? He wasn't a scientist so he had no idea.
Ralf hands him some water and pats him on the shoulder, "Good work, shall we check to see how our lady is doing?" he asks, gesturing over towards where Tiffania should be training.
"Yeah, hopefully she hasn't set fire to the forest again." he says after taking a few mouthfuls from the flask.
The trio had made their temporary home near the southern cliffs of Albion, far from any cities but close enough to some villages that Michael could 'borrow' supplies when needed. Obviously, they had to change locations once already when Tiffania accidentally set fire to the forest with a new spell she'd learned, but things had been pretty calm since then.
The duo walks through the forest and come out onto a large rocky area at the bottom of a mountain. Tiffania was standing on a large boulder not far from them, looking at a cliff wall with a determined expression.
"Wall of Ash!" she chants while going through a few careful wand movements. Once done, smoke, or ash billows from the tip of her wand as if she'd opened a portal directly above a volcano. Not only was it hazardous to breathe, but Michael could see embers being emitted from it, clearly showing just how hot the cloud was. The grass under it wilted and dried before bursting into flames, the stone blacked and the moss growing on it charred before disappearing.
This was one of the spells she and Ralf had been working on lately. It was actually a new creation, made by combining Tiffania's natural Wind affinity with Fire, and the Void's strange proclivity to produce smoke. Not that Ralf was aware of the latter fact, they'd tried to get that under wraps for now.
The ash cloud continues towards, unabated by the rather tumultuous wind blowing through the area, eventually stopping directly in front of the cliff face, where Tiffania had been aiming. It was slow, and took time to both cast and reach its intended destination, but the crowd-controlling effects of it would undoubtedly prove invaluable in future. Even Michael, someone who had a litany of strange abilities, didn't want to imagine getting caught up in that.
*Clap, Clap, Clap*
Michael claps for the successful spell, causing the girl to jolt and turn to face them, "Good job, Tiff, soon even Osmond won't be able to beat you." he praises with a laugh, causing a blush to spread across her cheeks.
Ralf nods but his brows twitch slightly as a conflicted look flashes on his face, "You've done well..." he remarks, but seems like he has more to say, despite his continued silence.
Tiffania just gives a bright smile in response, "D-did you think it will be useful?" she asks after a moment.
Michael gives a thumbs up, "Deffinitely." he grins, but decides to not reveal his thoughts on what would happen to someone caught in it... She'd probably be traumatised if she cast it on someone... "Let's get back to camp and eat something, I'm starving." he says, Tiffania wrapping her arms around his elbow as the group slowly makes their way back.
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