Chapter Text
Shatter!
A woman, struck by a bullet, crumbled into reflective shards. Mirror substitution! Frye frowned. That meant that the woman had to have been a sequence 7 Witch at minimum. The reports collected had the Nighthawks suspecting that she was a sequence 8 Instigator.
Appearing out of the shadows, the Witch who had previously concealed herself enveloped a rather large dirk with Black Flames. Frye lunged away from the flaming weapon as Leonard recited another poem.
"Calm is the morn without a sound,”
Frye fired another series of bullets towards the woman as she concealed herself into the shadows once more.
“Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro' the faded leaf,”
Leonard ran towards the direction he suspected the Witch had traveled, signing Klein to follow behind him to serve as backup. Reaching into his suit’s pocket, the Seer prepared to throw a multitude of silver embedded tarot cards.
Bang! A bullet struck into the darkness, revealing the wild beyonder once more. The woman grunted and waved her hand, transforming the forest grass beneath them into ice.
Sliding on top of the frozen over vegetation, the Witch began to mutter an incantation and reached for a bag that was tucked under her lavender colored dress.
“The chestnut pattering to the ground!”
Klein threw the cards at the Witch’s arm in an attempt to halt her from drawing out another weapon. She lunged and skated on the ice, evading the cards which had landed in a tree behind her. She shut her eyes and grimaced, feeling an overwhelming urge to fall asleep.
Leonard and Frye flanked her from the sides. Luckily, Frye had less difficulty traveling on the ice due to his pathway’s resistance to cold.
The Witch grunted, forcing herself to resist the poem and flung black powder blindly around her. Finishing the incantation, ghostly figures began to appear out of thin air and surrounded the three Nighthawks.
“I can draw them away!” Frye remarked. A corpse collector's aura prevented them from being attacked by any undead creatures or spirits.
Klein and Leonard nodded. The seer quickly aimed his revolver and slid closer to the woman. Her movements became slower and more inaccurate due to the poem Leonard had sung.
Klein fired a multitude of shots at the Witch. Shatter! The ice that she had created served as another vessel for Mirror Substitution!
“Klein! Your left!” Leonard yelled in a panic. He hesitated to fire with Klein being in the line of fire in this position. Quickly, he sprinted across the ice, which had finally started to melt, leaving patches of frosted grass in its absence.
The Seer grunted and dodged backwards, using his Clown agility to evade the flaming black dirk. The woman, frustrated and worn out, reached inside her dress once more.
Frye, who had finished dealing with the spirits, ran back towards the other two Nighthawks to provide aid. The frost crunched beneath his feet. As Leonard and Frye drew closer to Klein, they were able to see a mysterious object in the hands of the woman.
She turned, obstructing the view of the object from the trio. A Corpse Collector, Midnight Poet, and Clown. The one with the weakest constitution here has to be that Clown! Hurriedly, she whipped around and aimed the object at Klein.
“Affliction!” The Witch shouted in Hermes. The object in her hand revealed itself to the three. A silver compact mirror?
As she shouted the phrase, the mirror opened towards Klein. “Look out!” Leonard yelled, urging Klein to back away from the mystical item.
A dense, murky fog with a small radius surrounded Klein. Luckily, with Leonard's warning and his spiritual intuition, he had backed up enough to only be at the edge of the fog. There, it was less dense. The fog smelled horrid. Klein stumbled backwards out of the mysterious cloud.
Bang, bang, bang! Frye and Leonard fired their revolvers at the shadow behind the dark fog, resulting in a dull thud. The woman gasped and panted before finally turning still. “Stay away until the fog disperses.” Leonard ordered, and made his way to Klein. “How do you feel?”
Klein, who was resting on the ground, turned and looked at the poet. “Lightheaded,” he answered. “But it’s nothing unmanageable. Do you know what that artifact did?” Leonard paused, as if thinking.
“Old man?” He whispered under his breath.
‘It’s in accordance to sequence 5 of the Demoness pathway, Affliction. You should keep your distance from your coworker, lad. He’s been infected by a Demoness’ pathogen.’
The voice echoed in Leonard’s head, causing him to slowly back away. “Ah, you just rest there for a moment then… I’m going to see if Frye has searched the body.”
“I’m alright. Besides, you need me to channel her spirit.” Klein responded, raising his brow. Why was the other man suddenly acting so avoidant? He felt fine, just tired.
Leonard nodded and offered his hand to help Klein up. After assisting Klein, he discreetly patted his hands clean on his jacket.
This guy… Does he think I didn’t notice that? What’s up with him, it’s not like I’m covered in dirt or anything… Klein sighed. “My current condition is fine…” He repeated out loud seven times after withdrawing his topaz pendulum from his sleeve. Opening his eyes, the pendulum was swinging slowly anti-clockwise. Not optimal, but it’s not saying I’m in immense danger either. Perhaps I wasn’t deeply affected by that fog?
—
Using the incantation to summon the Witch’s spirit, the three beyonders surrounded the woman’s fallen body. They learned that her name was Samantha Ver, originally Samuel Ver. She was a member of the Demoness Sect and had been prematurely ending the lives of vagrants to prepare them as sacrifices to the Primordial Demoness while on a mission to eliminate true female assassins.
“Why were you assigned the mission to target female assassins?” Klein questioned the spirit.
“The Demoness Sect cannot allow for true female demonesses to exist. You should know that the Primordial Demoness was once a man! To enlighten ourselves with her suffering, all demonesses should originate from man!”
Leonard’s eyebrows twitched. So the Demoness Sect is… All men… Interesting… “Ahem, Klein, ask her about that artifact.”
He nodded and spoke up again. “What was the artifact you used and its abilities?”
The ethereal spirit answered. “That mystical artifact is what we call the Mirror of Disease. It corresponds to sequence 5 of the Demoness pathway, Demoness of Affliction. It releases a cloud of airborne diseases or pathogens that can infect anyone in its radius. Typically, it will leave a beyonder sick for up to two or three days. Heh, I chose that small fry because he looked like he would suffer most.” The spirit snickered.
Although he had gained weight and appeared to recover from the effects of poverty, Klein was the smallest of the group. Not to mention he was offensively weaker than Leonard and far less intimidating than Frye.
“The Mirror of Disease will cause the user to have amplified negative emotions for a couple hours. The longer it’s used, the longer the effect and more potent the emotions. Unfortunately, this mystical item is rather old. Its spirituality had already begun to fade a few months before I was given clearance to use it.” Samantha sighed before continuing. “Originally, it was capable of giving beyonders symptoms similar to bronchitis or pneumonia. I’m not sure how awful the symptoms are now, but it’s enough for the illness to not travel, especially if the infected is a beyonder.”
Leonard and Frye sighed in relief, while Klein winced. “How long will it take for the symptoms to develop? How can we locate your superiors?”
“At this rate, ten to fifteen minutes.” The Witch paused before smiling triumphantly. “It’s useless. My lady must have already detected my death. She’ll have applied anti-divination through black magic already, and besides, I don’t even know her true name.”
After a few more seconds, her spirit became even more ethereal and transparent, signifying that it was about to dissipate. Frye turned to Leonard. “Assist Klein back to the carriage. I’ll carry her body to the back and drive.”
Leonard nodded in agreement. “Klein, you already look pale. Let’s hurry, we’re lucky that we aren’t too far from the company…” Klein looked at him with dazed eyes.
Shuddering, he agreed. “I am starting to feel rather cold.” Leonard wrapped his arm around Klein’s torso, stabilizing the Seer as they made their way to the carriage. Frye secured the body and led the horses to make their way out of the forest. The crimson light of the moon made it seem far too eerie.
—
Leonard set Klein next to him inside the carriage. “You’re shaking. Tell me how you feel.” He frowned, offering his coat to Klein.
Too tired to refuse it, Klein let himself be blanketed in the poet’s black jacket. It smelled lightly of night vanilla, allowing him to relax a bit. “Right now, I'm just tired and rather weak.” Leonard hummed in response. “Then rest. Frye and I will take care of it.”
Klein leaned against the window, watching the scenery outside passing by. “…Alright then. Wake me when we reach the company.” He muttered quietly, not having the energy to voice his commands loudly. Leonard nodded and let the man beside him sleep.
Around three quarters of an hour later, the carriage arrived at the company. Leonard looked down at Klein and frowned. He had become paler and even started to sweat. The poet rested his palm against the seer's forehead. Far too warm.
“Frye, I’m going to take him to the infirmary. Could you…?” Leonard opened the carriage door to allow Frye to hear him more clearly.
“I’ve got it.” Leonard smiled in response and picked Klein up, holding him in his arms. In this position, he couldn’t help but want to run his hands through Klein’s fluffy hair. His eyelashes looked so long and cute from this angle… Stay on task, stay on task! Leonard shook his head, carrying Klein carefully inside Blackthorn Security Company. He traversed down the hallway and made his way up the stairs, which drew out grunts of discomfort from Klein.
“Sorry… We’re almost there.” Leonard reassured the brunette in his arms, even if he really couldn’t hear his words.
After setting Klein on the bed, Leonard took off his hat, jacket, and shoes, allowing for more comfort. In his sleep, Klein coughed with a painful expression on his face. “He looks so exhausted… Old man, do you have any advice?”
’He’s just sick. You heard the demoness, he’ll be fine. Stop doting lad.’ Leonard sighed. Sure it was just an illness but it looked way too serious! Maybe Klein just has a weaker constitution? He did grow up in poverty… Leonard thought quietly beside the resting Klein. He didn’t want to leave the man there alone, but he had to report his experiences with the Witch as soon as possible. “Don’t worry Klein. The Nighthawks will nurse you back to health!”